by Sarah Wynde
“You are a wonderful assistant,” Theresa corrected herself. “You’re not being fired. But—” She glanced at Amazing Voice Guy again. “Mr. Delmar has suggested, and I agree, that you’re in danger.”
“Delmar? That’s your name?” Fen scowled at him. She couldn’t be angry at Theresa, but hell, Amazing Voice Guy would be a fine target for her feelings.
“Do you dislike it?” He sounded only mildly interested in her answer but his eyes sharpened.
“It sounds very… American.”
He set his cup back in its saucer. “My first name is Kaio. You must feel free to use it.”
Kye-oh. Fen turned the sound over in her mind. “Are you Hawaiian?” she guessed. “Eurasian?”
“At a later date, I should be delighted to discuss my background in detail with you. But I’m afraid right now is not the time.” He shot back his suit jacket sleeve and glanced at the watch on his wrist. “As I’ve told your employer, I am removing my brother to a safer place while the crime against him is investigated. If you should care to join us, we would be delighted to host you until your assailant and his employers are incarcerated.”
“I don’t need a safer place,” Fen said. “I’ll talk to Zach. I’ll get him to call that guy off. He will. The guy even said Zach didn’t know.”
“Your neighbor is gone,” Kaio said calmly. “His home has been emptied of all personal possessions.”
Fen stared at him. Emptied? Gone? Numb with shock, she finally joined Theresa on the coach, sinking down into its comfortable cushions. “Gone?”
A glimmer of a smile crossed Kaio’s face. “At risk of creating another echo, yes. Gone.”
Had her assailant killed Zach? No, why would a murderer take all his stuff? Zach must have decided to disappear on his own. But why would he…
Maybe her thoughts showed on her face, because Theresa took her hand and interlaced their fingers, while Kaio leaned forward. “Someone shot my brother. That’s attempted murder. You’re a witness. The man who connected you to the crime has disappeared. It suggests he was warned of potential trouble.”
“That’s okay, though.” Fen swallowed. “He’s gone, so I’ll just get back to my life.”
“You’re the only witness to the attempted murder of my brother.” Kaio’s voice was gentle again as he repeated his words.
Fen’s nose twitched in annoyance. He didn’t need to talk to her like she was two years old or an idiot. “And? So? I tell the police what I know and it’s over. Besides, I’m not the only witness. Your brother’s a witness, too. He can talk to the police himself.”
Kaio’s face went still. “We certainly hope he can. But two witnesses are better than one.”
Fen stared at him. “Injured. You said he was injured. Is he—”
“He’s being taken care of,” Kaio said. His eyes didn’t meet hers. “We hope for the best.”
Fen drew in a long, deep breath. That boy saved her life. Was he going to pay for it with his own?
“You must understand, dear,” Theresa said, her voice quiet. “You can testify against the man who tried to kill you. He’s not likely to let that go.”
“I think it was a job for him.” Fen shivered, cold despite her layers. “He said that. Just a job. And that’s how he acted, as if somebody hired him to do it.”
“All the worse.” Theresa’s hand tightened around Fen’s, the squeeze painful for a moment. “He’s got a job to complete and a witness to eliminate.”
A soft knock had Kaio standing and crossing the room to answer the door.
Fen flopped back against the couch cushions and stared up at the ceiling. She blinked furiously. She was not going to cry, but her eyes were stinging. What would she do? What could she do? She sat up as Kaio rejoined them, laden with a tray.
He hadn’t been joking about the tea. The tray held a china teapot, white with flowers, three matching tea cups with saucers, and a plate of cookies. Not chocolate chip. Delicate little butter cookies in fancy shapes. He placed the tray on the table in front of Theresa and took his seat again.
Tea.
Fucking tea in pretty china teacups.
Fen wanted to pick up one of the cups, hurl it toward the window, and watch it smash against the glass, an urge so strong she clenched her fingers into fists and then slid her fists under her thighs.
Kaio caught the motion, but his face remained expressionless as he continued. “I’m unaware of the extent of your resources.”
The statement was gently phrased, but Fen glared at him anyway. “The hell you are. You were in my apartment, weren’t you?”
“Fen.” Theresa’s protest was soft, almost a whisper, but Fen pressed her lips together as Kaio tilted his head in her direction.
“Under the circumstances, I did choose to retrieve your belongings personally rather than send an aide. It seemed prudent given the uncertainty of the situation.”
“What’s uncertain about it? Some asshole wants to kill me.”
“Yes,” he agreed with infuriating calm. “And I would have disliked it greatly if he had been lying in wait at your apartment and one of my friends or employees had encountered him rather than me.” He gestured at the teapot and asked Theresa, “Would you like to pour?”
Fen stared at him. Okay, he was either crazy or… no, he was definitely crazy. He wanted to be the person to run into a killer? Sure, she got not wanting to let anyone you knew get killed, but if he’d thought that was a real possibility, why not get help? Like the police? Maybe a SWAT team?
“Are you a cop?” she asked.
He wasn’t as obviously amused as he had been when she’d asked him if he were a vampire, but his smile was genuine as he took the tea cup Theresa passed him. “No.”
“Don’t you think this is a problem for them?”
Why hadn’t she woken up in a hospital? How had he found her and his brother? Questions she hadn’t thought to ask began to bubble up in her mind.
“I have resources unavailable to a local police department.” He took a sip of his tea without adding sugar or milk or lemon.
Local police department? Chicago was a huge city, with thousands of police officers. Sure, crime was an issue—it’s not as if she’d ever thought the streets were safe—but a big chunk of the city’s nine billion-with-a-B budget went to the police department.
“What does that mean?” Fen demanded. “What kind of resources?”
“Suffice it to say that I believe my ability to prioritize our needs exceeds that of the local authorities.”
Fen stared at him as he took another sip of his tea. His words sounded so smooth, so elegant in that dreamy, not quite American voice. But what the hell was he saying?
“Speak English, please,” she said flatly.
He hid a smile behind his tea cup.
“Fen.” The name was a gentle reproof from Theresa. “Mr. Delmar is offering to help you.”
“I can’t just leave,” Fen said. “I have a job. I have rent money to make. If I don’t work, I could lose my place and—”
Shit. The incipient tears were back, prickling her nose. Yeah, her place sucked and the mice ate better than she did, but it was hers. She’d felt safe there for the first time in years. Missing a shift or two, okay, she might have to drop by the food bank or soup kitchen, but she could do that. More than that, though, and she wouldn’t be able to pay her rent.
“When I discovered that you were employed at the bookstore outside of which you were attacked, I stopped by to consult with your employer.”
Consult. Was that a euphemism for screw-up-her-life? Why the hell had he gotten Theresa involved anyway?
“Mr. Delmar hoped I could put him in touch with your family.” Theresa shifted in her seat, leaning forward to place her own tea cup on the table. “I let him know you didn’t have any relatives.”
Fen glared at him. “I told you my mother was dead.”
“Yes.” A flicker of some unreadable expression crossed Kaio’s face. “However, some o
ther family member—a grandmother, an aunt—might have been able to assist you in this situation.”
“I do fine on my own. I don’t need assistance!”
“You are in grave danger,” Kaio said patiently.
“You know I’ll do anything I can to help you, dear,” Theresa said. “I suggested to Mr. Delmar you join my sister in Ohio, but he pointed out…” Her voice faded.
“If your attacker searches for you, your employer is an obvious target,” Kaio said. “It would be best if she didn’t know the details of your location.”
“I’d take the risk for myself,” Theresa said hurriedly. “But Jenny’s got three kids. I can’t…”
“It’s all right, I understand.” Fen didn’t want Theresa to take any risks for her either.
This sucked.
“You must allow me to assist you,” Kaio said.
“I don’t even know you,” Fen said. “I can’t take your help.”
“Mr. Delmar owns Delmar Industries,” Theresa said, her voice low, her head turned toward Fen.
Fen didn’t recognize the name, but she got the picture—rich guy, big deal dude, head honcho. No surprise there.
“It’s a family business.” Kaio set his tea cup down on the table. “However, I do control ample resources to solve this dilemma. I suggest you join my brother in a safe location. Meanwhile, one of my employees shall replace you at the bookstore temporarily. He shall continue to receive his salary and you may keep the monies earned as he fulfills your obligations. Does that sound acceptable to you?”
Fen stared at him. No. It sounded ridiculous to her. “I don’t—I can’t—you have a bookstore clerk on your payroll, just waiting to leap into action when needed?”
His lips twitched. “No. But I have multiple bodyguards. I can spare one.”
Fen wrapped her arms around herself, squeezing tight. Kaio’s steady gaze told her he knew what he was offering.
A bodyguard.
For Theresa.
“Where would we be going?”
He nodded toward Theresa. “No details now, please. For your employer’s safety.”
Fen swallowed.
She wanted to go home, back to her apartment, the place that was hers, all hers. Sure, she got what they were worried about. She heard what they were saying.
But the hell with that.
She’d buy a big-ass gun and learn how to use it. Asshole came back, she’d blow a hole in him before he had to chance to do the same to her.
Except she couldn’t afford a gun. She could barely buy groceries.
And she might not have time to learn to shoot. What if she missed?
Reaching down, Fen picked up one of the delicate butter cookies and bit it in two with a snap. It melted on her tongue, sweet and slightly nutty and as delicious as any cookie she had ever tasted.
Kaio Delmar’s offer sounded too good to be true, but she couldn’t refuse.
Theresa would be safer with her gone. And a lot safer with a bodyguard covering her shifts.
Fen popped the second half of the cookie into her mouth, chewed, swallowed, and dusted off her fingers.
“When do we leave?”
A House of Cards
Fen’s heart raced.
Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God. What had she done?
She stared out the tiny window. The glass wasn’t as clear as it should be, not like normal glass. It looked thicker, layered. And was that a drop of moisture trailing down the pane? She peered closer. That water, it was inside the glass. That couldn’t be good. It had to be bad. Should she tell someone?
But they must know. It was their stupid plane. Didn’t they have, like, checks? People who climbed all over the plane making sure it was safe? Oh, God, this was so not cool.
She turned away from the window to look behind her. Two men in uniforms—maybe paramedics?—were carefully carrying a stretcher on board, angling and lifting to get it through the door and into the aisle. The boy from the alley was on it, conscious and wearing a look of strained pain. His glance caught hers for a few seconds as they moved past her down the aisle. He angled his head back as if to keep watching her and she heard him say, “Hey,” in a breathy voice before they reached the couch that had been converted into a bed and began strapping the stretcher down.
Kaio followed them onboard. He didn’t sit, but stood in the aisle and watched the process with a brooding air.
“Ah,” Fen started.
“Yes?” He turned to her.
“There’s water in your window.” She gestured at the glass.
He glanced at it with disinterest. “It happens. Thank you.”
Fen traced the pattern of the water on the glass with her finger. It happens. Okay, so that wasn’t saying the window wouldn’t shatter in mid-air, sucking the oxygen out of plane and killing them all from abrupt decompression at thirty thousand feet—did planes fly that high?—but maybe he thought that was implied. And if he was letting his brother fly on the plane and he was going to fly on the plane, then okay, maybe he at least believed it would safe.
She swallowed. Her heart was slowing, settling down as she adapted to the idea that she was going to fly. Fly. On a plane. Okay, yeah, that was fine. People did it all the time. Not her, but you know, other people. And they mostly lived.
So she’d probably live, too.
But she wondered about the boy.
She glanced back toward Kaio. His face was distant, not welcoming, but she asked anyway. “Is he going to be okay?”
A muscle flickered in his cheek and she recognized the lie when he said, “Yes. He’ll be fine.”
After a moment more, the man at the front of the stretcher turned and gave him a thumbs up. Kaio nodded, before seating himself across from Fen.
The brooding look on his face didn’t change as he gazed at her. It made Fen want to check her make-up, but she wasn’t wearing any. They’d come straight to the airport from the hotel. Instead, she tugged on the collar of her cardigan, drawing the sweater tighter around her neck.
“Are you still cold?” Kaio asked. “Would you like my overcoat again?”
“No, no, I’m fine.” Fen hadn’t wanted his coat the first time, but he’d insisted she wear it on the short journey from the car into the airplane. She’d given it back to him so he could supervise his brother’s arrival. “But I am going to need a coat.”
He raised a polite but questioning eyebrow.
“I don’t have anything with me. No toothbrush, hairbrush, extra clothes, coat.” She flicked her fingers up and down, indicating herself, top to bottom. “Clothed now, nice, yes, thank you, but tomorrow’s another day.”
“Indeed.” His lips quirked with half-hidden amusement. “An apt observation.”
It seemed like an obvious observation to her, but she didn’t argue with him. “I didn’t imagine we were getting on an airplane. I thought… hospital. Private, secure hospital. Near Chicago. A quiet room where I’d hang out for a few days, probably watching too much television.”
“Ah, I see.” He nodded as if her words made total sense.
Fen wanted to hit him. One little tiny punch, just to make him take her seriously.
She tried again. “I don’t have anything with me.”
“You don’t have a passport, do you?” he asked, reaching for his seatbelt and drawing it around his waist.
“What?” The word was a yelp, but the breathless torrent that followed sounded far more plaintive than Fen intended. “No, of course not. I don’t need a passport. I’m not leaving the country. I live here. I live here. This… No.” She reached for her own seatbelt. She’d buckled it securely around herself the moment she sat down. “This isn’t going to work. I’m sorry but I need to get off the plane. I’ll… I’ll… I don’t know what I’ll do. But I’ll do something else.”
He tilted his head to one side. “You don’t have a coat.”
“I know that,” she snapped. “That’s the whole point. I don’t have a coat. I can’t be on a plan
e when I don’t have a coat.” She was fumbling at the seatbelt. The damn thing didn’t work like real seatbelts, like car seatbelts. There wasn’t a button. It was some weird latch contraption, a piece that had to be lifted to separate the two halves.
Kaio reached forward and put his hand over hers. She stilled at the feel of the warm touch. It was the first time he’d touched her. Even when he’d placed his coat around her, he’d been careful not to brush his skin against hers.
The feeling in her stomach—that was queasiness. Fear. Panic from being on a plane, on an airplane, when she’d never flown on a plane before, never gone anywhere before. It had nothing to do with his touch. And the breathlessness—that was anxiety. She needed to get off this plane. Right now. Really quickly. Like ten minutes ago.
“Listen,” he said gently.
“Listen to what?” The seatbelt finally opened and she pulled the two halves apart with relief.
“The engine.”
She stilled. The engine was louder, much louder, and… she looked out the window. The ground was moving. Yep, the land was definitely in motion, sliding away beneath them as if they were on skates. And the feeling in her stomach? It was pressure, pushing her back against her seat. Oh, God, oh, God. And then it was too late. The plane was leaving earth.
Fen stared out the window as Kaio gently closed the seatbelt around her waist. That was the ground. Earth. And it was going farther and farther away. It was turning into an impressionist painting, blurs of color, grey and green and dirt yellow and blue, and she blinked, blinked, blinked harder, willing the tears away.
This was crazy. The whole thing. Twenty-four hours ago her life had been on track. All the broken pieces, she’d squashed them back together into a semblance of a life.
And it was working.
She was working.
The grey days outnumbered the black ones, not always by a lot, but they were definitely winning. And even on the black days, she held it together. Granola for breakfast, always. The safety and solitude of her own space. The store, grounding her. Customers who knew her name. Theresa, whose sharp eyes always recognized the moment when Fen needed a laugh or a cookie. The small pleasures. And at night, the focus—one class after the next, one set of readings following another. She was working.
