I slump a little lower, feeling stupid. “Right.”
“Better?”
“Yes.” But there’s a pang beneath my ribs and I can’t pry it apart. Is it from homesickness? Worry?
Or something else?
As Hart eases the town car onto the interstate, he outlines the plan for Joe’s house. Long story short? Now that they have the computer setup, they’re going to watch for anyone to return. It’s reasonable. In his place, I’d do the same thing, but honestly? It’s a waste of time.
“You won’t catch him,” I say at last. “That neighborhood has eyes even when it looks empty. There’s no way your car wasn’t noticed. There’s no way we weren’t spotted. It would be stupid for whoever was staying there to return.”
And somehow it doesn’t feel stupid. Why use Joe’s house to send the viruses? Why not some Wi-Fi hot spot? Why not somewhere less conspicuous? Honestly, the whole thing feels calculated.
Except the part with Griff. That part feels . . . off. Wrong. He didn’t know what I was talking about. He didn’t have a clue.
“Well,” Hart says, changing lanes. “It would also be stupid not to have someone there.”
I nod. “Yeah. True.”
It’s just after four when we reach the parking garage again. Hart swings into the space nearest the elevator and we all pile out, Milo following close on my heels.
“You seem off, Wick.” His fingers climb across my arm and I string up a smile.
“Sorry. Just tired.” I lean against the elevator wall and close my eyes. It’s kind of to prove my point and kind of because I can’t look at Milo for a second longer.
Too bad I see Griff in the dark. The last time I saw him was supposed to be the end. Why does this feel like a beginning?
Why does this feel like the start of something worse? And because my brain’s already on overdrive it kicks into all the things worse could look like: What if he returns to the house? What if Hart’s people catch him?
What was he doing there?
I clench my teeth together. He won’t get caught. He won’t. Griff would never be that stupid. He knows the house is compromised now.
Right?
“You don’t look okay.” Milo again.
I open my eyes. “Headache.”
Now they’re both watching me. I look away—look at the elevator buttons, the floor, the wall. The wall. That’ll work. There’s a glossy steel handrail and Hart’s palm is wrapped around one corner. But as I watch, his fingers begin to drum.
Is he irritated? Or thinking hard?
I don’t wait to find out. The elevator stops, the doors drag open, and I bolt, heading for my bedroom. I swipe my key card, and inside, it’s blissfully quiet and totally empty. Alex must still be upstairs. Technically, I should be upstairs too. After today’s field trip, I’m behind in schoolwork and in computer work. I should try to get on top of things before dinner and group therapy, but I can’t quite bring myself to do it. Too many nights of insomnia plus seeing Griff and not finding Michael equals . . . yeah, it’s all a bit much.
I kick off one sneaker, reach for the other, and stop. Listen. What was that? I turn and—there. There it is again. Whispering? Or is it hissing? Whatever it is, it’s so soft I take a step toward our window, stare into the air vent. Nothing.
Except there’s another hiss. This time, it’s louder, closer to a murmur. It is someone whispering, and for the first time, I notice our bathroom door is closed and there’s a shadow behind the frosted glass.
Alex is in there and it sounds like she’s talking to someone. One of our teachers? I stand on the other side of the bathroom door and study her outline. Maybe she’s doing some sort of Skype session. But why would she do it in the bathroom? And why would she be so quiet?
Alex’s shadow moves, twists, and we both freeze. Damn. If I can see her shadow, she can see mine.
“Wick?”
“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “I just got back. Are you okay?”
Alex’s arm arcs toward the handle and there’s a click as she opens the door. “Course.” She braces one shoulder against the frame, looking like this is any other day: same hoodie, same bored expression. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”
“Just being nice.”
Her eyes narrow like I am anything but and I ignore her, drag off my other shoe, and collapse onto my bed. She’s still watching me and I’m still thinking about who she was talking to. Herself? God?
Or someone else?
“Where were you?” Alex asks and I hesitate. Alex was already upstairs when we left. She probably waited for me all morning and I feel bad. Thing is, Norcut wanted this kept private—but how private can you keep anything when we all live practically on top of each other?
“My dad escaped.”
There is the slightest, almost imperceptible beat of hesitation before Alex says, “No shit?”
My mouth goes dry. Slight hesitation. Almost imperceptible, but still there. I push myself up, bracing on my elbow. “You already knew.”
18
“How would I know?”
“You can’t lie to a liar, Alex.”
“So tell her the truth.” The voice is tinny, far away, and definitely not one of us. Alex and I stare at each other and seconds pass before she tugs an iPhone from her hoodie pocket, tilts it so I can see the dark-haired woman on the screen.
“This was going to happen sooner or later,” she says, and I shoot to my feet. The words are slow, deliberate, like she’s talking to an animal she’s spooked or an addict on the edge. “Alex has told me all about you, Wick, and I really like what I’ve heard. We want to make you an offer.”
“Who the hell are you?” I back up and my legs hit the bed. My brain’s stuck on ridiculous loops about how Norcut said we’re not allowed to have contact with the outside world, how we’re not allowed to have cell phones.
How this is bad. This is really, really bad. Has to be.
And yet . . . I could call Lily with that phone. I could call my best friend, Lauren. I could check my bank and email accounts without Looking Glass tracing my keystrokes.
“She’s one of my contacts,” Alex says softly. “I’m not here because I got myself in a bind—well, I mean, I did get caught, but it was on purpose. I needed a way into Looking Glass.”
“You were hired for a job,” I say softly, watching for Alex’s flinch. She doesn’t. “And here I thought you were Looking Glass’s biggest fan. You told me I was being ridiculous.”
“I had a job to do. You know what that’s like. What would you have done?”
Same thing and we both know it. That’s what makes this whole thing so very sad.
“I want out,” Alex continues softly. “I want you to help me. The payout for this job is serious—plenty for us to split. All we have to do is pull files from the main system and get them to my client. It’s a victimless crime. We get paid and no one gets hurt.”
Except, possibly, for me. And then my sister. And Bren. Looking Glass is funding their protection. If we were to steal from them, what happens to my family?
My head goes light and I swallow.
“Wick,” the other woman begins, but there’s a faraway shout. Her side of the phone drops, showing us a terrific view of her feet and the pavement. Another shout.
“I have to go.” Her voice is still hushed. It’s a bit hard to separate the words through the sound of her sneakers scuffing against the ground. She’s running, fast. “Alex, you have to tell her. Tell her about the cameras and tell her about him.”
Alex flips the phone around before I can see the disconnect. It’s the same old Alex looking down at the screen and yet she’s different too. It’s in the way she lingers on the final image and pulls at her lower lip. She’s worried. Scared.
That makes two of us.
“What kind of job takes over a year?” I breathe.
“The kind where you have to navigate Kent.”
“Who else knows about this?”
“Just
the three of us.”
Just the three of us? Can I believe her? “Alex, all those promises, all that stuff—”
“Yeah, yeah. College degrees. Job futures. You can do all of that or you can take your share of the payout and do whatever you want for the rest of your life.”
Escape, freedom. The words squirm under my skin and grow.
I force myself to inhale. “You’re crazy. Even if we did get away with it, they’ll hunt us. Forever.”
“So? Not like they’ll find us. You know how this works, Wick. With enough money, anyone can disappear.”
Absolutely, and the idea fills every inch of me. For years, I did computer work for clients and banked the money in offshore accounts. I was always ready to run. Until Bren, the foster homes never lasted. I had to be prepared, and if you have enough money, you can be prepared for almost anything.
“My people know about their clients, their technology,” Alex continues softly. “We just need the right help to get through Kent. You’re that person. You could do this.”
I stare. I don’t even know where to begin.
“Hart and Norcut engineered your arrival, Wick. You don’t owe them anything. They used your mom. They used her to get to you.”
“There’s more to it than just my mom.”
“Oh, you mean that accident? Those people who are after you?” Alex’s picking up speed now. “How do you know that accident wasn’t arranged? How do you know it wasn’t created so you would trust them? Face it, Wick. You’re nothing more than a tool.”
I stiffen. “And what’s that woman to you? How do you know you’re not a tool to her? How can you trust her?”
A pause. “You don’t have to be related to someone to make them family. So. Are you in?”
“I don’t . . . I can’t . . .”
“You can. In fact, I think you’re already in.” Alex fiddles with her phone screen. I can’t tell if she’s actually doing something or pretending so we don’t have to look at each other. “I think if you weren’t, you wouldn’t be whispering. You’d be yelling. By now, everyone would hear us.”
Alex’s eyes flick to mine, and I know she can tell she hit bone with that one.
She’s right. I am still whispering.
“Face it, Wick, there’s more to Hart and Norcut and you know it. You’re like us. You’ve felt it from the beginning.”
“I feel that about everyone.” I half mean it to be funny. Too bad, it surfaces sounding serious. Worse, my legs suddenly give out. I collapse on the bed in a heap. Everything is sinking in now. Maybe that’s how it works. First comes the burn, then comes the pain, but there’s always a space in between.
I cannot afford to be involved in this. Not when I have so much to lose. There’s Milo, my future . . . forgiveness. The path back to my family is through Looking Glass. I promised Bren I would try.
“Tell me if you’re in. With or without you, this is happening.” Alex is going for hard, but her eyes are baby-animal soft and round. My answer means something to her. I mean something to her.
It makes the whole thing hurt that much more. We will never be the same after this. Whatever friendship we have won’t survive, and in some ways, now I wish I had never found her because this one’s going to hurt.
“I’m not,” I manage and scrub one hand across my face. “I can’t be. I can’t take down the one thing that stands between my family and my father. He should be running and he isn’t. That scares me. Seriously. I don’t know if that means he’s looking for me or for my sister or for something else, but Norcut says she’ll help me catch him.”
“And you believe her?” Alex is pissy, edgy now, and I get it. Of all people, I so get that and telling her no hurts more than I ever expected. I’ve drawn a line now. She’s on one side and I’m on the other. It won’t be the same anymore.
“That’s where we were today. Thanks to Looking Glass’s resources, they’re safer.” Possibly. Maybe. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. There’s so much you can fit into a maybe. More than I like.
“Those resources include all the cameras in your house?”
My eyes pop open. “What are you talking about?”
“You heard. She wanted me to tell you about the cameras.” Alex jerks her head, making her ponytail bounce. “Explain to me how Hart and Norcut are protecting your family if they have more cameras on the inside of the house than the outside.”
I don’t say anything, but then again, I don’t have to. We both heard my exhale. It was hard, sharp, like I’d been punched.
“That’s right,” Alex continues and there’s something round and satisfied leaking into her voice. “There are at least six different camera angles and I don’t think Bren and Lily have looked at any of them. Ever. Do you think that’s because they don’t know they’re there?”
My skin goes cold. “How do you know that?”
“Because I helped order the cameras.”
“And you’re telling me now? Why? Because I’m finally useful?”
“It’s not like that. I didn’t know if I could trust you.”
I’m shaking now and I can’t decide where to begin—where Alex didn’t tell me this until now or where my family’s being spied on. Unless they’re just being protected. Maybe Looking Glass is covering all their bases. I would.
Still, I have to force a noncommittal shrug. “You and I both know indoor surveillance isn’t that unusual.”
“Don’t try that on me. If you’re going to make excuses at least come up with something decent. Why would they need to watch your sister and mom?” Alex brightens, points at my chest with the cell. “Think it’s because they’re perverts like your stepdad?”
Nausea slithers through me. “No, I don’t.”
If Hart and Norcut are watching Bren and Lily, it’s for another reason. Because they think my dad will contact Lily? Another twinge of nausea. Could be, but there are better ways of tracking that. So that leaves . . . no idea. I don’t know what they’re hoping to gain here.
I do know that, without my family, Norcut and Hart don’t have leverage on me.
Stop it. I lift my chin, glare. Don’t think like that. Stop letting her goad you.
“I’m sorry, Alex. Truly. I wish I could help.”
“You can, you just won’t.”
I start to argue and stop. She’s right. I do know something about Looking Glass feels off. I do know it’s weird for them to have more cameras inside than outside, but they’re also standing between Michael and my family. I’m not jumping into this on just Alex’s word—and I’m damn sure not going to be someone’s teammate or weapon without knowing her angle. “Why are you doing this?”
“We all have our reasons, Wick. You should know that better than anyone.”
Yeah and that’s the thing: I do. I also know how it can be used against me and maybe she’s doing that now and everything before was just a lead-up to this: getting me on their side.
There is something seriously wrong with my life that I have to consider each person’s angle before agreeing to help. And suddenly, it’s like Griff is right there with me, a whisper rushing down my ear as he says, “Once you prove yourself useful to the wrong kind of person, you’re never free.”
Is this just another round of it?
“Did you send me those messages? The viruses?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No, but it’s great luck for us. Kent’s so busy chasing his tail and Hart’s so worried about you, it’s the perfect distraction.”
I glance down at Alex’s hand, and watch how her fingers tighten. “That cell secure?”
“Of course.”
I dig my feet into the carpet, press until my legs hurt. I can’t believe I’m going to do this, but I will. “I’ll keep quiet about whatever you’re doing as long as you let me use it.”
There is no coming back from this and the knowledge makes my joints so heavy I feel like I’ll get dragged through the floor.
Alex’s shoulders slowly straighte
n. “Why do you want it? To check my sources? Make sure I’m not lying to you? I don’t have to lie about Hart and Norcut—”
“I need to look for someone.” My heart double thumps. A mistake. A horrible, horrible mistake, and as soon as I say it, I know I should’ve said something—anything—else.
Alex goes very still. “Someone like who? Your sister?” She pauses. “Or maybe a partner?”
“No.” But it’s half-assed and we both know it. In another life, I would’ve had a better lie. But in this moment, Griff is so close to the surface, my surface, and I need to know he’s safe. “I just need to do a little work off record. There’s no partner.”
Alex’s eyes go flat, dull. “Maybe not a partner like Kent thinks, but there’s definitely someone.” She waits and I say nothing.
“Fine,” Alex says at last. “Be like that. You ready for the other secret?”
“I don’t want to know.” I press both hands into the mattress, struggle to my feet. I want a shower. Or maybe just a break from this, from all of it. “I don’t want to know anything else you two are doing.”
“Oh, you’ll want to know this one. Trust me, it’s good.” I start for the bathroom and Alex follows me. “Has your pretty boy been honest with you?”
I grab a towel from the rack and turn, ready to shut the door in her face. “I’m guessing you don’t think so.”
“Still not interested?”
“Nope.” Yes.
“Has Milo told you the deal with his mom yet?”
No, actually. We talk about a lot of things—mostly computer related, yes, but I know about his dad. I know all about Milo’s fascination with explosives, the run-down restaurant his uncle left him. And he knows all about my biological mom. He even helped me find the real truth about her.
But his mom? We never really talked about it.
Alex smiles. “That’s what I thought.” She puts one hand on the door handle and the other on the frame, leaning closer and closer. “That’s because he doesn’t want you to know.”
Trust Me Page 10
