by J. A. Huss
“Hmm,” West says, getting up and walking back to the window.
“What are you looking at out there?”
“I don’t know.” He gives me a sidelong glance over his shoulder. “But I feel like I need to be looking for something. I just have a very bad feeling about all this.”
I let out a long breath and get up to join him at the window. I look over at Katya’s window out of habit, but there’s nothing to see there. “What are you gonna do about your parents?”
“What can I do?” He shrugs. “Nothing. I can’t do shit unless I have a real reason. And I don’t really have a reason other than Tori’s gut instinct.”
It’s my turn to shrug. “Maybe that’s enough?”
“Do you think I should leave town?” When he turns his head to look at me, I can see fear in his eyes. I squint at him, incredulous that this, of all things—his parents coming to town for a visit—is something he fears.
“Leave town?” I ask.
“I can’t tell them not to come, right? They wouldn’t even listen.”
“But you want to actually leave town? Is there something you’re not telling me about them, West? Because maybe Tori is dramatic, but she’s not the one talking about running away.”
He’s quiet for a long time. Almost a minute. And then he says, “They asked me about the gold, Oliver.”
“That fucking treasure that no one can touch without going to jail for piracy? What did they say?”
“They asked me if I still knew where it was. But that’s not the part worries me. Because they asked me that question last week.”
I narrow my eyes as I think about this. “What’d you say?”
He looks at me with even more fear in his eyes. “I never told them there was more, Oliver. I told them the same thing I told Liam. That I gave him what I had. That was the end of it.”
“So why were they asking?”
He swallows hard. “That’s what I’d like to know.”
“You think they’re after that gold? Why? They have more money than God. They don’t need it.”
“Neither does Liam. And he still wants it.”
We stand there for a little while. Mulling all this information over in our heads. And then I say, “Tell me everything you know about that treasure.”
So he does. He tells everything again. Same story though. Maybe a few more details about what it looked like. But that’s it.
“What are you doing for lunch today?” I ask, when he’s done talking.
“Nothing, I guess. Tori has plans. I was just gonna hang out with you today.”
“Well, how about we crash that little lunch party? I’ve got some questions for my sister and I think they need answering sooner rather than later.”
Chapter Thirty-Two - KATYA
I walk slowly up the stairs after I hang up with Mariel. My stomach is in knots and I feel sick. Like I want to throw up. I push the stairwell door open on my floor and come face to face with my sister.
“Shit, you scared me!” I say, my heart beating so fast it might explode out of my chest.
“Where did you just come from?” Lily asks, a very perturbed look on her face.
“Sorry,” I say. “I took the stairs.”
“Where were you last night? I’ve left seven messages this morning but obviously you never came home, did you?”
I narrow my eyes at her. “I don’t owe you an explanation, Lily. I’m a grown-up.”
“So am I,” she sneers.
I laugh at her teenage moment. “Is this what I’ve been missing the past four years? Your entitled attitude? And technically you’re not a legal grown-up until tomorrow.”
“I’ve been on my own since I was thirteen, just as much as you, Katya. So don’t tell me what I am.”
“You,” I say, my anger building, “were under twenty-four-seven care of one of the most elite boarding schools in the country. You were hardly on your own.”
“How would you know what went on while I was here in school? You never once came for a visit.”
“And you know the reason why,” I growl back. The nerve of her. I did everything for her. I made her life fucking luxurious compared to what I had. “And fuck you for saying that. Really. Just fuck you.”
I push past her and go for my door. I unlock it, step in, and I really am going to slam it on her face… but she puts her foot in the door jamb and it just bounces back.
“You have something else to say?” I ask her, my anger overflowing now. She is so ungrateful.
Calm down, Kat. Just breathe and calm down.
I left to give her a different life. I left so she didn’t have to know the life I had. I left so she’d never have to think about the past the way I do.
“I’m sorry,” Lily says. “Seriously, I am. OK? It’s just… I was calling and calling. I just wanted to have coffee like we always do. And then you didn’t answer. So I came over and there was no answer at the door. And the doorman said he hadn’t seen you. And just… I got all these ideas in my head. Like you were gone. They came and—”
“Stop,” I say. I can’t bear to hear this. “Just stop. I’m fine. I was out with a guy. I have a boyfriend, OK? Are you happy now?”
“Since when?” She looks crushed. Like I just told her something horrible. “Who? You’ve been in town for like two weeks. How could you already be spending the night with a fucking guy? You’re not even allowed to—”
“I’m allowed to do whatever I want.”
“Yeah, OK.” She laughs. “Fine. And then they will come in and kill you. Do you think I want to lose you, Katya? For Christ’s sake. You’re all I have right now. And you’re treating me like I’m some nosey stranger instead of your sister.”
We stare at each other. At an impasse.
“Well,” she says, blinking first.
“Well?” I say, answering but not backing down. I’m in control here. She thinks she’s so tough? Please. She has no idea what it means to be tough. She thinks she’s so wounded? I don’t see a scar on her neck.
“I meant it,” she says, her voice soft and conciliatory. “I didn’t mean to come off that way. Do you want to get coffee?”
“I really don’t,” I say. A little surprised at my honesty. I just want to close the door and be alone. Think about what’s happening a little more carefully. Maybe take some of my own pictures of Oliver’s words, and then spend the morning lost in my head as I make it into art.
But her face crumples. Like she was just barely holding things together over this fight and my snub was the last straw. Her eyes fill with tears.
I sigh and roll my eyes a little. “Fine. OK. I’ll have coffee with you. We can go to the Fort Collins—”
“No, no, no,” Lily says, stopping me mid-sentence. “That’s why I was so upset. I got invited over to the Antimony house.”
“House?” I ask. “They have a house?”
But Lily shrugs me off. “It’s a dorm, not a house. It’s just small. Just them.”
“So… a house?”
“Kat, don’t be a paranoid freak. They’re having a brunch in like thirty minutes. And I want you to come. Please?” She bats her eyelashes at me. “Please, please, please? Everyone is bringing a boyfriend and I don’t have one.”
She doesn’t say the rest, but I can read her thoughts. I don’t have one… because of you.
Because I am a paranoid freak and I’ve been telling her since she was little all the bad things that can happen if she gets mixed up with the wrong guy. I’m the poster child for poor man choices. Not that mine was a choice, but it’s still a good lesson. One that should scare the ever-loving shit out of her.
I hesitate anyway. I do not want to go spend time with college kids. Least of all these Antimony girls.
“Come on, please,” Lily begs. “We can walk over right now, get there just in time, and then we spend one hour there. That’s all the time I have anyway. I have class at noon.”
“One hour?”
“Mmmm
-hmmm,” she says, trying not to smile because she knows she’s gonna get her way.
Well, maybe I can use this to my advantage. “OK,” I say. “Stop clapping like a three-year old.”
But she is clapping. That tiny little clap she’s been doing whenever she gets her way for as long as I can remember. The one where she keeps her palms pressed together and only claps her fingers.
“On one condition.”
She eyes me suspiciously. “What?”
“You have to take the day off classes tomorrow and spend it with me.”
I expect her to readily agree. We are sisters, right? She never gets to spend time with me and she’s always begging for more.
But she’s even more suspicious now. “Why? I think I have a test tomorrow. I can’t miss a test.”
“I don’t care,” I say, shaking my head to let her know I’m firm on this. “I want to spend your eighteenth birthday with you. All day. In fact, I think you should sleep over tonight.”
“Kat,” she says, dragging out my one-syllable nickname.
“I have a great surprise for you, OK? It will be worth it. I promise.”
“Well, I can’t promise. Not until I go to class and see what’s happening.”
“Then I can’t go to your brunch.”
She taps her foot on the floor, like she’s really thinking hard about her choices. Teenagers, is all I keep thinking. Finally, after almost a minute of this, she says, “Fine. It’s a deal. I might have to go to one class though. I can’t help it. And I can’t stay the night. I have a thing tonight.”
“What kind of thing? Not a boy.”
“No.” She sighs. “Not a boy. It’s just girl stuff, that’s all. But I’ll come by in the morning and we’ll spend the entire day together. My first day of my new adult life will belong to you. OK?”
She smiles that sweet, innocent smile I’ve missed so much over these past four years. And I melt. Just like I used to when we were small. It suddenly makes this whole day better.
“OK,” I say. “We have a deal. And personally, I think I got the better end of it. But I’m not going to gloat.”
“Are you going to wear that?” She eyes me with distaste.
“Oh, shit.” I laugh, looking down to my schoolgirl uniform from last night. “No. Give me five minutes.”
“Wear a dress, OK?”
And I suddenly see her too. She’s a little dressed up. A white dress, not short and skimpy, either. But kinda classy.
“Something like yours?” I ask.
“Yeah, but not white.” She has a dreamy look on her face. “We don’t want to match.”
“Got it.” I smile. “Be back in a sec.”
I walk into my bedroom and hit the closet. I don’t have a ton of clothes. I didn’t bring much with me. But I have one nice dress. It’s not white, either. It’s a pretty light green. Not short enough to be slutty. Not long enough to be a gown. Just… pretty. Kind of summery, but it’s the nicest thing I have, so it will have to do. I can just throw on my tan wool coat and my knee-high leather boots.
And when I’m ready, exactly seven minutes later—and after several ‘hurry ups’ yelled from the front room—I look at myself in the mirror.
“Hot,” Lily says, behind me. I smile at her in the mirror.
“We both look good,” I say.
“We look like sisters,” she says back. “We could be twins.”
“We don’t look that much alike. I’m three inches taller, for one.”
“And your hair is lighter. They do like the blondes.” She sighs.
“Who?” I ask, turning to grab my purse.
“Oh, the guys, you know. They all like the blondes.”
“Well, you’re blonde too.”
“Not like you, Katya. You’re the perfect blonde. Golden rays of sun to my dingy dishwater.”
“Well, thank you.” I don’t get a lot of compliments, so I take it gracefully. “But we practically have the same hair. I just spent more time in the sun this summer, I guess. Let’s go. I have an appointment at noon, so I really will be leaving your little tea party on time.”
“I’m the one who came ready.” It’s a little dig at me. But I brush it aside and twine my arm in hers as we leave the apartment. I feel guilty for not working on a project this morning. But I can afford it, I guess. I have her next semester’s tuition almost covered. I’m ahead. I can relax a little and enjoy the only family member I have left.
Chapter Thirty-Three - OLIVER
“What’s going on?” Pax says from the top of the stairs.
West and I both whirl around, taken by surprise. Jesus Christ, I really do need an office door. We are both huddled up to my computer, looking at the tracking app I have access to on Ariel’s phone.
“When did you get here?” West asks, recovering for me.
“What are you guys looking at?” Pax asks, walking over to us.
“We’re just trying to figure out what the girls are up to,” I say.
“They’re downstairs. Why don’t you just ask them?” Pax says.
“Because they’re having some kind of secret meeting today at lunch and we want to get in on that.”
“Hmm,” Pax says, taking a seat in a chair. “Victoria is looking for you, West. I told her I’d come see if you were up here with Oliver.”
“OK,” West says with a sigh. He looks at me. “Let me go take care of her and I’ll be right back.”
I nod as he leaves, but I’m looking at Pax. “What?” I say, after West’s footsteps fade down the stairs.
He props a foot on the opposite knee. Like he’s getting comfortable. “I just have a question or two about that ‘hack’ you showed us yesterday.”
“Why are you making air quotes for the word ‘hack?’ You don’t believe me?”
“I’m just confused,” he says, using a familiar overly patient tone. Which I hate. “I need some clarification. About all of it really.”
I don’t volunteer anything.
“So you said that Allen set you up and you had to go along with it because they made a forum which implicates you in some kind of hitman-for-hire operation?”
“That’s what I said.”
“And that’s it? Plus, you saw your sister?”
“I saw my dead sister, Pax.”
“Missing sister,” he corrects me. “Is she presumed dead?”
I just stare at him.
He waves a hand through the air like he’s clearing it. “Never mind her. That was just my opener. To let you know I’m not buying your bullshit. Because while I might not be as clever as you Shrike people when it comes to computers, I am not a stupid man.”
I know what he’s going to say. My explanation yesterday in the SCIF room was lame. So fucking lame. But it was all I could come up with without asking for Ariel’s help.
“They threatened you.”
“They did.” My tone is neutral. “Still are,” I add. Because all that’s true.
“Do they mine data from your site?”
Dammit. I really didn’t think he’d catch on to that. “Yes,” I say.
“Dating site data?” He scoffs.
“Credit cards,” I say. “Emails, addresses, phone numbers. You’d be surprised at how much personal information people share on a dating site.”
“Yeah,” Pax says. “I get it. It’s not totally worthless. But the threat to you is way too low, Mr. Match.” He narrows his eyes at me. “Hitmen? Really? I mean, surely you understand you probably have an alibi for every single hit—if, in fact, there ever were hits. They can’t possibly have covered all their bases. Your explanation…” he says, trailing off to think about his word choice. “While it doesn’t completely ring false, it doesn’t completely ring true, either. So why don’t we go into that little room of yours and you can show me the other half of the truth you’re hiding.”
I let out a long breath and take a few moments to think. “Look, Pax—”
“No,” he interrupts. “You look. I�
��m on your fucking side, asshole. I’ve had your back for ten years.”
“Eleven,” I say. “Did you even notice that another anniversary went by?”
He pauses and I know he didn’t.
“Neither did I,” I say. “Until today.”
“Go on,” he says.
I get up and motion for him to follow me with a nod of my head. “You wanna see? OK. There’s really no point in hiding it anymore. We’re already in the middle of it, Pax.”
“Middle of what?” he asks, following me over to the door on the other side of the room.
“The shit hit the fan some time ago, brother. It’s all over us and we never even smelled it.”
I open the door and we go through the ritual of entering the SCIF down on the third floor. When we’re inside, there’s just that one laptop sitting on the stainless steel table. I sit down on the stool, flip it open, and then log in.
The black command prompt box opens and I type in the code to bring up what I didn’t show the other guys yesterday.
“What am I looking at?” Pax asks, data scrolling, scrolling, scrolling.
“Code.”
“Obviously, asshole.”
“Just give me a second,” I say, my fingers flying on the keypad. A beep comes from a cabinet just to my left. Pax reaches over and tries to open the door, but it’s locked.
“That’s just the secure server coming online. It’s nothing.” I type for another three or four minutes, then press Y, to initiate the final command, and a website pops up.
“What’s this?” Pax asks, leaning in to get a better look at it.
“That,” I say, turning the laptop so he can see the screen better, “is the real Hook-Me-Up website.”
“You’re using Tor?” he asks. “An onion domain.” He looks at me. “You have another deep web marketplace? This is more than hitmen, isn’t it? That’s what you’re hiding?”
I sigh and shrug at the same time.
He points to the screen. That’s an advertisement for—”
“Counterfeit money. Yup.”
“So it’s real, then? You sell all this shit?” He points to another forum. They are all stacked neatly up into rows on the page. “All this illegal shit? Prostitutes, and drugs, and—”