Vantage Point

by Amy McKinley

  A smile played at the corners of my mouth, despite how much I fought it. I had no idea what I’d done in my screwed up youth to warrant these guys’ support. Jack had been the one I’d mainly gone to, and if he wasn’t there, then Mike.

  It was like that for the rest of the guys in our crew too. We looked up to Jack. He was a natural leader. Back in the days when we lived in the warehouse, he had assumed that role, even with the shit he’d faced on a daily basis with his girlfriend and her messed up brother.

  “Who all’s there?”

  I could hear the squeak of the chair as Chris leaned back. “Most of us. Jack. Mike is heading out here later today. Keegan and Hayden too. Just not Trev. He’s wrapped up in a job.”

  “On his own?”

  “Pretty much. Right now it looks like a glorified babysitting job, but you know nothing has ever been easy for us.”

  “Isn’t that the truth.”

  “Right, so I suspect some shit will hit the fan eventually. But for now, we need to concentrate on what’s going on with your end of things.”

  While I liked the thought of our core crew getting back together to face whatever we learned about the loan-shark network, our group had expanded. It felt a little weird not having everyone in on that one. I suspected it would explode sooner rather than later. “What’s up with Liam, Connor, and Matt?”

  “They’re working a small job for Rich and left early this morning.” Rich Stevens was our CIA contact. “All of us weren’t needed, so they’re handling it. It’ll be done in a couple of days, a week tops. They’ll jump at the chance to get their hands in whatever you’ve got going on, assuming the problem is still there when they return.”

  “Yeah, I know they will.” It was personal for me because of the gambling trigger. Whenever any of us had an issue that was a result of our past bullshit, we all rallied together, paid mission or not. I heard the running water from the bathroom shut off. “I’ve gotta go. Keep me posted.”

  “Always,” Chris said.

  Usually, I could handle whatever came my way, and Red’s situation had seemed relatively easy. It was the palpable anxiety I read off her brother that brought my past a little too close to the surface. The memories I worked hard to keep buried didn’t want to stay that way.

  The door to the bathroom opened, and Stella walked out. Her eyes were rimmed in red, making the blue even more vibrant than usual. She’d pulled her wavy hair on top of her head in a messy bun. The urge to protect her was compelling. “Pack up what you need for the next week or two. Include anything you don’t want to risk having stolen or broken.”

  Panic warred across her features, conflicting with the defeated slump of her shoulders. I felt a momentary pang of regret, but it had to be this way, at least until I figured out whom we were up against. Leaving her alone to face whatever may come would have been like tightening a noose around her neck.

  Family didn’t always do what was best for one another.

  I should know. I lived that way most of my childhood. There was nothing worse than going to sleep, thinking I would be safe and that I would make it through the night unharmed, then finding that notion to be false. As I stood in Red’s apartment, one such night sliced its way through my mind. I was a few years older than I’d been that night my mom had gotten me the pair of shoes, but I was still no match for him. It’d been quiet when I’d fallen asleep—he was out for the night, so there was no constant fighting. Or so we’d thought.

  I awoke with a jerk to a hand clamped tightly around my ankle, dragging me from under the open sleeping bag on the floor. Panic shot through me in a violent burst of lightning. I slammed my hands down, trying to gain purchase and stop what was happening. My eyes were wide, and the soft light from the living room illuminated Mom’s husband, Lenny.

  I’d stopped calling him Dad a long time before.

  I sucked in air, willing myself to take in my surroundings, to be alert, and not to let mind-numbing fear take hold. Everything would be over then. If I fought the fear, I stood a chance.

  “Where is it?”

  What? My brain raced to figure out what he was accusing me of. I caught the doorway and clamped my hand on it, using the leverage to tear my ankle from his grip. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about!” I scrambled to my feet, ready and watching.

  For an older guy, he was damn fast.

  Alcohol-laced breath hit me in the face as I stood inches from him. We were matched in height by then, just not width. He still had that on me. And muscle. Not for long, old man. I would keep growing, getting stronger. He would only get older.

  His fist connected with my shoulder too quickly for me to avoid. Grunting, I absorbed the blow. I had to learn to be faster. I’d seen it coming, barely, but I hadn’t moved in time. A dull ache throbbed there, but I blocked the pain. “What’re you talkin’ about?”

  “My money, boy.” He bared his teeth, and hatred flashed in his eyes. “Where is it?”

  His fist shot out. I weaved left. Knuckles grazed the side of my face. Again, I wasn’t fast enough. A former boxer, Lenny knew how to hit. Things could have been different if I’d looked like him, if I were his, or if he’d taught me how to fight. But he hadn’t and wouldn’t.

  I heard a small gasp. It was Mom, but she said nothing. There was no cry for him to stop.

  Mom watched from the hallway, her face a pale oval in the dim light. I recognized the way her lips pressed together and her body smashed up against the wall. It was her tell. She’d taken the money. It didn’t matter. She would never have my back. To her, it was easier if I took the fall.

  I hated them. What I couldn’t understand was why it still hurt so goddamned much.

  Stella

  Hawk flexed his muscles as he dropped several duffel bags on the floor near a small closet. I nervously glanced around his apartment. Through an open bedroom door, there was a king-sized bed. I hoped there were other bedrooms. Of course, I hadn’t walked through the two other doors that were shut on the other side of the living room. His place was much larger than mine.

  “This isn’t necessary. I can check in to a hotel.”

  He crossed his arms and settled the heavy weight of his gaze on me.

  “We may need to do that, but right now I’d rather be close by.”

  “Because of the cameras?” While I’d packed, he’d stuck several tiny little cameras in a few places around my apartment. I’d never seen anything like them. They were small and round, about the size of a dime and either black or clear to match their surroundings, and they blended in seamlessly wherever he installed them.

  “The cameras are there for us to monitor anyone breaking into your apartment, which we can do from elsewhere. I thought it best to stay close for now, in case your brother comes back.”

  Oh wow, I was a horrible sister. “Yes, I want to be near if he comes looking for me. But what’s the point of staying here, in your place?”

  “So that no one attacks you while you’re alone in your apartment. I have a camera on the building’s entrance too. We’ll know if your brother is by himself or not…”

  I stole a glance at Hawk. I didn’t know how to do what I was supposed to do. If he hadn’t introduced himself and offered his help… God, Max, what have you gotten yourself into this time?

  Chapter 6

  Stella

  Hiding out in my neighbor’s apartment while monitoring my own via video feed was so out of my league. But after the scare on my way home from work, I’d agreed to stay with him.

  I looked around Hawk’s spacious living quarters, which were done in a dark color scheme of gray and blue with tan couches that boasted pillows and a soft throw. There were a few scattered pictures of Hawk with other people. I made a mental note to take a closer look later.

  Across from me, Hawk sat in front of a laptop. Various images from the cameras he’d installed filled the screen. The ones in my place, the hallway, and the entrance to the building were displayed.

  My thum
b smoothed over the polished wood of a jewelry box that Oma had given me. It had been hers. This holds part of my heart, Stella, as do you. Remember, always. Her words whispered through my mind as I hugged the small antique treasure. It’d come with her when she’d fled with her family from Germany to America all those years ago.

  I shook off my thoughts and glanced again to Hawk. I didn’t like any of this. Not only that, but I’d involved my hot neighbor. This wasn’t how I’d hoped to end up at his place. I nibbled on my lip nervously and wracked my brain for something to talk to him about.

  “Do you expect someone to show up? Do you think they know where I live?”

  Hawk turned and settled his gaze on me. God, he was intense. My spine straightened from the weight of his focus. He saturated the space with his stillness. It made me feel like prey, and it was unsettling but comforting at the same time. Or maybe I was crazy.

  “In time, yes, based on what you told me happened at work with the men hanging around and how your boss sent you packing.”

  Ugh. I tasted blood and released my lower lip. I ran my tongue over it to catch any stray drops from my horrible nervous habit.

  His gaze flicked to my lip then back up. “Is there anything else you’re leaving out?”

  “No.” I pulled my legs under me and sat the jewelry box next to me. “They must have followed me when I left work. One of the men got a fistful of my jacket, but I got away.”

  “You didn’t show up here with a jacket on. Where is it?”

  I shook my head. “I slipped out of it to get away. They probably have it.”

  “Was there anything in the pockets?”

  “No. I’m positive there wasn’t.” I usually hung up my jacket with the rest of the staff at the restaurant. I wouldn’t have taken a chance by leaving anything of value in there. It was easier to keep my key and money in my pants pocket unless I brought a purse, which I always stored securely in the office.

  “That may buy us a little time, but whoever is after your brother will find you eventually. What do you know about who he has dealings with?”

  I shrugged. Max had been getting into trouble for a long time, but he handled it—sort of. I’d learned the hard way by losing the few expensive possessions I had owned. Anything of value was fair game. He’d taken those things and sold them.

  Oma had left her childhood jewelry box with me. I’d threatened him within an inch of his life, saying that if he ever took it, I would never forgive him. Even though he was a complete shit, we were family and loved one another, and there were some lines that even he wouldn’t cross.

  Oma knew what he was like—after all, she’d raised us. I remember her lovingly patting him on the cheek and telling him to get his priorities straight. But her mention of treasure that time or two had cemented in his head, and he’d asked her relentlessly about it for a while. After that, she’d referred to her hidden secret as “family heirlooms” only. I tended to believe that the locket she’d given me was it.

  Even with Max screwing up throughout school and getting into trouble, once for an underground gambling circuit, she’d never turned him away. She’d always known what Max was mixed up with, but one thing she’d made sure we understood was the importance of family.

  I should have kept closer tabs on who he dealt with. I knew better. But after a while, the shady men turned downright evil, and I wanted nothing to do with them.

  There were a few things I did know about Max’s situation, but… I worried my lip again and cringed. It was sore from where I’d bitten it before. I pulled out some lip balm and spread it over my lips as I checked out my hot neighbor. What if I’ve invited more problems for Max and me? Has my crush on Hawk blinded me so that I’ve added to Max’s problems? “Are you a cop?”

  A smile stretched across Hawk’s face, and I sucked in a breath. He was stop-in-your-tracks handsome before, but when he smiled, he looked like a model.

  “No. I promise. I’m in security.”

  “So what’s with the haircut and the job? Are you an ex-cop?”

  He chuckled, and my face heated.

  “The hair’s low maintenance, and I was in the military before. Now, I work mainly search and rescue.”

  “Oh, okay.” That’s good, right? He had skills. I had none. “Are you going to have my brother arrested? ’Cause if that’s what the cameras are for, you can count me out of this.” And I would tell Max too.

  “Red, it’s strictly for monitoring who comes and goes, to capture the images of any potential threat so we know exactly what we’re up against. You’re sure you don’t know what kind of trouble your brother is in or who those guys were?”

  Maybe. Can I trust him? I wanted to. I at least had to try. I didn’t know what else to do or who to go to for help. “My brother has been in tight spots before with owing money he doesn’t have. Then the loans come due.” I got up and started pacing. “Mostly because of his gambling debts.”

  “What type of gambling does he do?”

  I paused in my pacing when something in Hawk’s demeanor drew me close. Is he sad? Lost? Wait, that isn’t right. Maybe wary? “Um, he usually bets on fights. Sometimes, he’ll go to the track.” Had he flinched when I said “fights,” or did I imagine that?

  His features went back to a neutral expression so fast that I couldn’t be sure. “Anything else? Casinos?”

  I shook my head. I didn’t think so. “He parties sometimes. Cocaine, I think. I haven’t seen him strung out for a while. He could have the drug issue under control. The real problem is the gambling…”

  “Do you know who he associates with, maybe who he owes money to?”

  “No. He said it was better I didn’t know anything.”

  A tic pulsed at the corner of Hawk’s jaw, and my stomach clenched. Hawk’s quiet concern rocketed mine. “What’s wrong?”

  The tension I’d previously read on his features melted away. “Nothing yet. We’ll figure this out.” Movement on the screen caused Hawk to pause. His gaze flicked to the monitor. It was another one of the residents. No cause for alarm. “In the meantime, I need you to stick close to me. If you have to go anywhere, we’ll go together. It’s not worth the risk.”

  I tapped my fingernail against my thigh. Admitting I needed help was hard and not something I liked to do, but I was scared. He was offering to be a personal bodyguard of sorts, and it made me feel indebted to him. I didn’t like that. “I should pay you.”

  Hawk grinned, and I had to stop myself from sucking in a loud breath. I had to get used to seeing him smile. He needed to do that more often.

  “No, you shouldn’t. Honestly, this is… It’s something I’ve had some experience with before, and in good conscience, I can’t let you handle it on your own.”

  That’s all I was to him, a charity case. Noted. Heat infused my cheeks again. I had to keep a tight rein on my hormones. The attraction was one-sided and all on my end. I pulled the box back into my lap, sort of like a buffer.

  “What’s that?”

  I smoothed my hand over the surface, missing my Oma terribly. “A gift from my grandmother. We called her Oma. It’s the jewelry box that her mom gave to her when she was a little girl. It was one of the things that made it over here when she escaped with her parents from Germany.”

  “May I?”

  He extended a hand toward me, and I clutched the box tighter. He waited. I was being stupid. I handed it to him.

  He turned the box over, and I had a sudden, overwhelming urge to reread Oma’s words. Family was everything. Max tested the limits of what we could endure. It didn’t change the fact that he was my brother, and I would never turn my back on him. Oma and her parents hadn’t turned their backs on her brother. He was taken from them through death instead.

  Hawk’s phone rang, and he handed the jewelry box back to me. My brush was in the small backpack I’d packed, where it would stay and where I would safely return the box after I read one of Oma’s letters.

  While he talked on the pho
ne, I moved over to the opposite side of the room for some privacy. I should have waited to read her letter later, but with everything that had happened, I needed her. I got settled on the couch closest to the window and farthest from where Hawk was.

  With care, I opened the envelope on top of the pile of three secured by a ribbon. I knew them by heart but desperately wanted to feel close to her again.

  My Dearest Stella,

  I see so much of myself in you, from your penchant to test the waters around you to your love of art. I wish I could show you the world I came from before my country was infested with hate and genocide. As you know, my family fled our war-torn home as soon as we were able, sick for what had happened to so many friends and loved ones. While most of us fit the profile to remain untouched, we couldn’t stand by and support such madness. My family’s views were known by many, which resulted in our family being placed under the watchful eye of Nazi supporters.

  It has forever haunted me that my parents hadn’t found a way to leave earlier. Or that my brother, Stefan, hadn’t been able to reach the escape route they’d learned to plot before every endeavor. A large part of our personal tragedy could have been avoided. But I don’t blame them or Stefan and his friends for forming a band fashioned after the Edelweiss Pirates, led by another brave group of rebellious teenagers. Their protests began with expression through song, clothes, and growing their hair long. Peaceful protests soon led to confrontation and violence.

  At the time, the outlet was what he needed to rail against the injustice inflicted upon his fiancée and so many of our friends. Even through peaceful resistance of song, violence was sure to follow. One horrifying night, many of their group were caught and beaten, and it ended with their heads shaved. They were alive, and that’s what we focused on while planning how to escape undetected.

  When Stefan’s continued resistance against the German Youth Group resulted in him and several of their band being beaten and publicly hung, we fled, wracked with grief and guilt that we hadn’t left earlier and potentially saved my brother’s life. I’ll never forget the fear, the terror.