by C. L. Stone
He was giving me advice on how to encourage the others to come along. Sacrificing my portion of ten percent of billions of dollars? My body ached at the thought of it. I didn’t even know how much that would be, really. “Do you know what I could do with that much money? I may not need to work ever again.”
“What would you do?” he asked. “Would you buy some house somewhere? Settle down?”
I shuffled in my boots. I hadn’t really gotten that far. Simply knowing I wouldn’t need to struggle seemed like enough. I needed clothes, food... what would I do with my time if I had that much money? Before meeting the boys, I’d needed every penny to pay for a roof over my head and food. I never had enough to even think about saving for the future.
Raven’s lips twitched into almost a smile. “I don’t know either,” he said. “I used to do things for money I thought I needed, and it put me in very bad places.”
“What sort of bad places?” I asked, getting a feeling for what he was talking about but wanting to be clear.
He was quiet for a long moment. His dark gaze moved from my eyes, to my chin, to my hair and back to my eyes. He touched his chest, about where there were three towers in the tattoo underneath his black shirt. “Three years,” he said. “My life was gone for three years.”
I recalled the details Blake had discovered about the boys about their criminal records. While Raven’s history had been obscure, Raven had told me himself a bit about this past. “Money doesn’t mean you go to jail,” I said. “This isn’t the same thing.”
“I made bad decisions based on thinking I needed more money than I did,” he said. “It changes when you do it for so much money.”
“We all work for money,” I said. “It’s how the world goes ‘round.”
He grunted and shook his head. “Not when you’re trying to help someone else. Not like this. Just trust me.”
I wasn’t sure if he was right. What was I supposed to do? Turn it down? My portion would most likely go to Avery and the others. Would the money change them?
I wasn’t totally convinced by Raven’s words. I’d have to ask Corey or one of the others about it. Wouldn’t they like to get out of the apartment? Maybe into a nice big house?
“Consider it,” he said. He leaned in a little, close enough that I could feel the heat from his body. “Little Thief, don’t become blind by money.”
“It’s a lot of money,” I said.
He leaned in further now, his dark eyes penetrating my brain, as if he could see all my desires to gain independence and that would take money. I gulped a little, afraid of what else he might see, including how alluring he could be to me. Russian, strong, and—in spite of the tattoos and piercings—there was a fuzzy corner in his heart. Somewhere.
“The more money, the worse it gets,” he said. He put his palm over his heart, and then breathed in deeply, his chest expanding before he let it out slowly. “See? Fresh air. Freedom.”
“Huh?” Did he mean free from prison?
“Free from money, or wanting lots of money.”
“You need money. For paying for bills. Or they send you to jail for not paying them.”
“Tell me your bills,” he said. “I’ll take care of them.”
I clenched my teeth together, unable to explain to him. Sure, I would probably have an easier time of getting a normal job now, if I let myself use their generosity of living with them and went out and looked for one without being desperate like I had been before I met them. I was more available now and I didn’t have to support a home with my father drinking away most of the money and a brother to feed. Still, there was this job right here, and I could do it.
“Hey!” Marc called to us.
Raven backed up a step, still looking at me but creating a respectable distance between us.
I turned to Marc; he was waving and jogging toward us. I was grateful for the reprieve. I hadn’t been so sure about how to get out of that conversation. I didn’t want to imagine what Raven might ask for in exchange for paying a bill. What kind of work would he make me do? Or worse, would he ask for a commitment? “Are they going to come along?” I asked Marc.
“With you wrapped up in trouble and unable to get out? Of course,” he said, winking.
Was it worth mentioning again that I could walk away at any point? Maybe not; if they were going to need to go into this with some sort of half-truth reason for being there, that was their business. “Okay, so what else can I dig up before they get here to convince them to stay?” I asked.
“Do you still have that photo of the lady?” Marc asked.
“Michelle?” I asked and pulled the picture from my pocket. “Sure.”
“Find Avery and dig up more information. The more details on what we’re looking at, the simpler we can make it, the more likely Axel will agree to this. He’s the one you have to convince.”
“Convince Corey,” Raven said.
Marc blew a raspberry. “Like that’s difficult. Just ask him politely and say please and he’ll come along for anything. It’s Axel who can tell us no.”
“Corey makes Axel say yes,” Raven said. “He does it to me.”
It was actually a brilliant idea. Corey was friendly and open minded. I might be able to talk him into staying, and possibly get him to accept that Blake was on board and ready to help. Maybe he’d convince the others to let him do so. Or at least help me figure out how to explain it to the others.
Marc grinned at Raven. “Just exactly how does Corey make big ole Raven do anything?”
Raven shrugged, unaffected by his mocking, possibly not understanding it even was mocking. “Don’t know.”
Marc waved him off and focused on me. “Do you know where Avery is?”
Probably listening in. “I bet he’s back in that foyer, or close by there.”
We headed that way and Marc held open the door for us to enter in. The brighter lights of the foyer sparkled off all the shiny surfaces and hurt my eyes before they could adjust after being outside in the dark. I was in awe again of the large lobby desk, the marble, the large dome overhead.
As we came in, Avery was coming down the stairs. It was proof to me that they were listening and that Avery could actually be summoned at any point if I were to hint that I needed him. That might actually be useful.
It was how much he might overhear while we were onboard that bothered me. And would he be able to listen in when there were more guests around?
He smiled when he saw us and hurried the rest of the way. “Is everything okay?” he asked. “Can I get you all anything?”
“What are you doing here anyway, Avery?” Marc asked. “Are you the assistant or something?”
Avery shrugged and rubbed a palm over his chest, causing the material of his shirt to slide down a bit, causing the tip of the tattoo on his chest to poke out. “Not sure,” he said. “I guess assistant might be the right word for it. I don’t exactly have a title.”
“And you’re helping Ethan find the missing money?”
He glanced at me, and then nodded slowly. “I’m not sure what I can do, but I’ll do what I can. I’m really relying on Kayli.”
Marc smirked. “On her?”
I put my hands on my hips, narrowing my eyes, daring him to make a joke about a woman being in charge or some other sexist remark. I’d put a boot to his crotch.
“She’s been put in charge of the team,” Avery said. “We don’t make a move without her saying so.”
Marc shifted his gaze between Avery and me and back to Avery. “Are you sure you want to do that?” he asked. “You know she’s a little crazy.”
I karate chopped Marc in the arm. “Shut up,” I said.
He landed a gentle return chop on my shoulder. “Well, you are.”
“We can use all the help we can get,” Avery said. “And she’s pretty well qualified. She utilizes resources, asks opinions of other people. She can see the whole picture out of the details she finds and puts it all together. Plus, she cares. That’s
a big trait Mr. Murdock wanted in someone in charge.”
I grimaced, feeling like Avery was going over the top with trying to convince them. Had they really discussed this? And if it was Blake who’d wanted to bring me in, was it Blake who had said all those things? He’d known me longer than the others, so it was more than likely him.
Marc only nodded quietly at this. No complaints? No arguments?
“Anyway,” I said, wanting out of the awkwardness. I held up the photo for Avery to see. “This is Michelle, right? Can I get a few more details? Since she’s our only lead for the numbers right now, let’s put a lot of focus on her. I need to know more about her and more about Nightingale.”
“I can show you some material I collected,” Avery said.
“And we’d like to talk to Ethan if he’s available,” Marc said. “I need to get him to clear Axel and the others with security for coming aboard. And then we should probably meet Axel at the dock.”
Avery turned toward the stairs. “I believe Ethan’s in the main dining room or the kitchen...sorry, I mean galley. I’m not really used to the nautical terms yet. It’s on the first floor, down the hall. My notes are upstairs on the fifth floor.”
“I’ll go with Avery to look at his notes,” I said. “Do you two want to go talk to Ethan?”
Marc nodded. Raven shook his head at the same time. It was amusing seeing them disagree like that. When Marc caught Raven’s motion, he tugged at Raven’s arm. “Come on, Raven.”
Raven pulled his arm away. “I’ll go with her.”
“She’s the boss,” Marc said. “You have to do what she says.”
Raven’s gaze shifted between me, Avery and Marc. I almost felt bad about it.
“I’ll be fine, Raven,” I said. “I’m just going to grab a few notes. I’ll be with Avery. I’ll meet you back here when Axel and the others come aboard.”
Raven shifted on his feet but then started slowly toward where Avery had said Ethan was located. “Ten minutes,” he said.
I doubted I could walk up and down five flights of stairs in that amount of time. This place was huge. “Thirty or sooner,” I said and lifted my palm in a gesture of promise. “Depends on how long it takes to get info. Promise.”
His shoulders relaxed at this and he started toward the doors. Marc followed him. They both disappeared beyond the bottom of the staircase and on down the hallway.
It was an odd parting of ways. They hadn’t left the ship, but a heaviness remained inside my heart. It was difficult to deny Raven going with me when he clearly wanted to. He was the one helping me, after all. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was asking them to get into, either. I didn’t really have any sort of plan. They were coming along without even thinking about that, it seemed. They simply said they’d stay if I stayed. Was I forcing them into doing something they really didn’t want to do?
What would that Academy have done if I wasn’t here? Just watched from afar and waited? I thought maybe I should ask Marc that, if he knew.
“This way,” Avery said, heading toward the stairs.
I stole one more look at where I’d last seen Marc and Raven and then followed Avery to the stairway, almost slipping on the marble in the boots I wore. I should have told Marc to tell Corey to bring a few of my own clothes along. Hopefully Axel would tell them we’d be gone for a few days and Corey would think to bring some along anyway.
ARROGANT IRISH
We passed through a narrow hallway on the second floor, twisted around a corridor and then followed a trail that lead to an elevator, then up to the fifth floor. Even there, we crossed hallways and rows of rooms.
“This boat is huge,” I said. “We’ve been walking forever.” My eyes were dazzled by bright wall sconces, polished wood tables and the blue and white flower patterned woven carpet in the hallways. Every door had a plaque beside it, either with a number or a specific room function like Study or Day Room. What is a Day Room?
Avery shuffled along beside me, occasionally checking out a gold framed painting hanging on the wall or a crystal vase filled with roses sitting on a tiny table. “Like I said, it’s a lot like a hotel. Or a resort, since it’s got spas and game rooms and all kinds of extras. There’s even a stage and a movie theater.”
“It’s really crazy,” I said. I couldn’t help but feel a little lost, even if I was following Avery. It was one of the fanciest places I’d ever been in and oddly surreal. “I tell you what happened to all the money. It ended up in this big thing.”
“No,” he said. “That money’s accounted for. We’re looking for unaccounted for money.” As he walked past another little side table, marble topped and with just an empty vase this time, he swiped his fingers across the surface. “Although if you’re implying there’s a lot of wasted money that could be doing good elsewhere, I’d agree with you.”
At least someone understood. “Did you tell that to Ethan?”
“Ethan says the things they buy and build with the company—the legitimate things—employ people as well, like the maids and cooks and the captain of this ship. Yes, Ethan and those good CEOs make a lot of money, but a lot of that money goes to other people.”
That sounded familiar. Blake had once made a similar point. “It’s odd that his father kept collecting more and more, and in secret. When is enough, enough, right?”
Avery shrugged. “I don’t agree with his methods at all, but not everyone who has money is like that. I do understand why people like Ethan would keep working and building. I mean, what are you supposed to do once you’ve got, say, a million dollars? Do you roll over and do nothing? Or do you continue to work and build? Up or down?”
“Good point,” I said. If I had the ten percent of two billion dollars, would I just roll over and do nothing? It was tempting, but I’d done nothing for a few weeks and felt restless. Maybe I’d have money after all this was over, but I couldn’t imagine I’d sit by and not do anything at all.
He came to a door near the end of the hall. It was marked Storage, but the door was wider than others we’d passed by. He knocked at it quickly and then opened the door and walked in.
I followed, only to be met by a wall of smoke greeting me in my open mouth. I coughed, gagging. Cigarette smoke. Oh no.
The room was dimly lit, and my eyes strained to adjust, watering at the smoke floating around in the air. There were shelves with medical supplies, first aid kits, boxes of flotation devices marked off as spares. There was a set of three folding tables set up in an U-formation, and they were covered in computer monitors. The only real light in the room was the glow from the screens, and the open door behind us. A thick cigarette smoke trail rose from behind the monitors.
I stepped forward. Doyle’s mop of brown hair was combed away from his eyes, although strands continued to float around his temple. He had a pale face and tired, red eyes as he glared unblinkingly at his monitors. He read without moving his lips, without much expression at all. He wore a black T-shirt with some green binary code on the front that I assumed meant something, but I couldn’t make sense of all the ones and zeroes.
“Doyle?” Avery asked. “Do you want me to throw on a light for you?”
“What for?” Doyle’s voice drifted to us, a little gruff. He coughed several times, clearing his throat, and then swiveled a monitor sideways to look at Avery. “You’ll just ruin the mood. I don’t work well in the light. It hurts my eyes.” His head turned my way and he blinked. “And what, may I ask, dear boy, is that thing doing here?”
I knew Doyle must have been around somewhere and I should have figured that he would be holding checking details for Avery, but I kind of put him out of my mind. I rubbed my fingers along my nose, as if that would mask the heavy cigarette stench. “I’m not a thing,” I said.
“You knew she was coming along,” Avery said.
“Yeah, but I thought you’d put her in her place, like the kitchen or with the maids.” He flicked his cigarette, the ashes landing in a paper plate next to him on the desk.
>
“She’s in charge of the team now,” Avery said.
Doyle blinked at him, staring. “And?”
“So we need more information on Michelle,” I said. “And Nightingale. Like who is coming on board that we need to look out for.”
“Listen, sweetheart,” he said in a long sneer. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t exactly play well with others.”
“How hard is it to give me a name and some data, Doyle?”
He sat back in the chair quickly and folded his arms across his chest. The cigarette hung from his lips. “Last time you just wanted ‘a little bit of information’, I ended up in a broken down building with spiders and hobos, looking at a dish that didn’t even work, breaking into a Catholic church, kidnapped at gunpoint, and forced to do all kinds of unthinkable things. Helping you isn’t helping me. It’s more like a gateway for torture.”
“Aren’t you here to help?” I asked, looking at Avery.
“Well, I don’t have to help you in particular,” he said. “I didn’t even get an apology.”
“I’m sorry about the spiders,” I said, making a face.
“And the hobos,” he said.
“I’m sorry about the hobos.”
“And the kidnapping.”
“I didn’t kidnap you.”
He grabbed the cigarette from his mouth and stamped it out on the paper plate. “I don’t think you take me seriously at all. Do you know how many hours I put in just so you can run around and pretend you’re doing something useful while getting everyone else in trouble?”
“Is this the negotiation part?” I asked. This was going to get frustrating quickly. How was I supposed to work with someone who fought me constantly and took forever to relay even the tiniest bit of information? I’d rather deal with Corey. “Do I have to bring you a puppy next?”
He waved his hand at Avery. “Take her away. I can’t work under these conditions.”
