by J. A. Huss
He was beach-bumming, like me. His jeans were old and torn. His t-shirt a little too big, sporting a faded image of a mushroom on it. Vans on his feet. He was holding his hands up, like he was surrendering, but he was not surrendering. He just didn’t want me to shoot him straight away. He needed a minute.
He got it, because I was stunned.
“You look good,” he said.
“You look better than you should,” I replied.
He nodded and shook a hand in the air so I’d notice it. “I have something for you here.” He was holding a phone. “A message.”
Whatever message he had, it was not one I wanted to hear, but I said, “What message?” involuntarily.
“Take a look.” He held out the phone and I reached for it, thinking he’d use that as an opportunity to attack. But he didn’t. He handed me the phone and I took it, never taking my eyes off him. “Press play, Tet.”
I looked down at the phone and squinted at the girl on the still shot of the YouTube video. The still shot was a close-up of her face, her eyes wide with fright.
Green.
Her eyes were as green as mine. Her hair was as dark as mine. Her features reminded me of pictures of my mother when she was young. But there were bruises on her face. Not recent ones, which made them all the more ugly.
“Nicola?” It was a question in my head. A desperate, desperate question as I hoped against hope that what I was seeing was real. I pressed the play icon on the screen and her voice carried though the noise in the busy gas station. “James,” she said to the camera, her eyes filled with fear. “Help me. Please,” she begged that day on video. “Please, help me.”
How do you deny your sister when she returns from the dead and asks you to save her?
You don’t. You say, Whatever it takes.
Because blood runs thick.
That fucking blood sticks to your hands no matter how much time you spend in the desert.
That fucking blood makes you do things. Things that you never thought you’d do. Things like kill your brother to save your niece. Things like give up your future to save your sister.
I’ve been looking for someone to save my whole life.
Since the day I shook death’s hand and walked away from a dirty promise.
Since the day I decided I am damned and I’ll take them all to hell with me.
Since the day I realized blood might run thick, but revenge runs deep.
I did make a choice that day. But that was just hours before I met Harper. How could I have known?
I remember now. I remember what was hiding behind that black curtain of denial. I remember those missing hours I forced myself to forget to avoid the consequences.
I remember the dirty deal I made with death.
And death is coming back to collect.
Chapter Thirty-One - James
“Are we there yet?” Sasha asks from the backseat as I shake Nicola out of my thoughts.
“Almost,” I say absently.
Nicola is not that easy to shake. My debt is not small. My debt makes any future I wanted impossible.
I look in the rear view and Sasha catches me staring and smiles. “James?”
“What?” I say back as I study her face.
“Do you think we’ll have time to go to the beach today?”
I nod at her and then look over at Harper. She’s asleep. Or faking it, I’m not sure. “Yeah, I’m counting on a sunset tonight. We’ll definitely go to the beach.”
“Tonight?” she whines. “Can’t we go before that?”
“We’ll see, Smurf. You can see the ocean from my house, but I want you to stay inside. I’ve got some business to do first.” And that’s when Harper’s shoulders stiffen.
Yeah, she is faking it.
“Harp,” I say as I smack her leg playfully. “Harper? You awake? We’re back.” She pulls herself up and turns to me. Her smile is slow and just as fake as her sleep. She’s worried. As she should be. This plan is far from perfect, especially for her. And now I have a new player in the game. Fucking blackouts. “I’m gonna drop you guys off and then I have to go meet some associates.”
She just stares at me.
“OK?”
“Where are you going?” she finally asks.
“I’m not sure yet. I got a message about these missing files. So if I can get a hold of them, then I need to make the delivery.”
“Delivery to where?”
I force a smile. “Don’t worry about it, Harper. But it’ll be fine, babe. Just relax at my place for a few hours, then I’ll come back, we’ll grab some dinner and head towards the beach and have a nice night.”
She nods but I can tell she doesn’t believe me. “Hey,” I say, my hand going to her knee. She’s starting to shake a little. Barely noticeable, but it’s there. “You’re OK. We’re OK,” I stress. “Don’t worry, it’s all gonna work out fine.”
“What are we doing?” she asks in a low voice.
“We’re going to James’ house, Harper,” Sasha pipes up from the back. I have her, at least. She’s totally on my side right now. We’ll see if it stays that way.
“It’s a small job, Harper. No killing, I’m on leave, remember? This isn’t a job like that, so stop worrying.” All that is true. None of this is a job, not really. But while I am being honest, I’m not being forthcoming.
“Let’s go to Mexico,” she says with a bright hope in her eyes. “Let’s just… run away and go to Mexico.”
“I wanna go to Mexico, James,” Sasha says. “I’m ready to go anywhere. You guys just say the word. I’m there.”
“Harper,” I say in my serious voice. “Listen to me, we’re fine. We can’t run away, you know that. You can’t run away, because they know where we are.”
“Then why am I still with you? Why hasn’t my father come to take me back?”
“Because he knows you’re safe with me.”
“We’re being set up,” Sasha says from the back.
I nod to her image in the rear view. “We’re definitely being set up, Smurf. But look, you guys, just fucking trust me, OK?” I study Harper’s face and she’s not convinced, but when I turn my head to see Sasha, she’s smiling. I have her, and right now, that’s all I need. Harper’s trust would be nice, would make this job easier, but it’s not necessary.
“I just don’t…” Harper is clearly not on board. But I’m not sure if she’s really worried about the files I keep mentioning, or if it’s about something else. “I don’t think you should do this job, James. I think we can get away. I think we can sneak out somehow.” When I look over, her eyes are darting around like crazy. Like she’s desperate to convince me to do anything but this job.
“Baby, relax. Why are you so worried? This is no big deal.”
“But if we’re being set up, and we all know we’re being set up, then why the hell are we playing along?”
I turn off Superior Avenue and onto Pacific Coast Highway, using my merge into traffic to stall her question. “Look!” Sasha squeals. “It’s the ocean!” She opens her window and the sea air blasts into the Hummer. I flip the AC off and roll down all our windows. It feels so good to let the outside back in after being in the desert these past few days.
“I feel sick,” Harper says. “My stomach, James. I feel sick.”
I rub her leg again. “Relax, Harper. I told you, I’m taking care of things. OK?”
She shakes her head. “Pull over, I’m gonna throw up. Pull over!”
I pull into a restaurant parking lot and park in the shade. Harper opens her door and leans out. She waits, spits a little, but she holds it together.
“What’s wrong, Harper?” Sasha asks, worried.
I look back at Sasha and shush her with a finger to my lips. “Harper,” I say, rubbing her back. “You’re fine. OK? Just relax.”
She leans back in her seat and wipes the perspiration from her forehead. “I don’t want you to do this job, James, I don’t want to go back to HB. I don’t want
you to leave me alone. I’m not ready for this.”
God, I feel so fucking guilty.
“You won’t be alone, Harper. I’ll be there too. I have a gun if anyone tries to mess with us. James gave me one of his Five-SeveN’s. It’s kickass!”
“Sasha,” I say sternly. “Do not shoot that thing here, do you understand me? This is Orange County, not the desert.”
“I’m not stupid, James,” she says with an eye roll, like I’m her father and we’re talking about curfew instead of killing people. Fucking girls. They are so emotional. I’m just not used to it. I’ve never worked with so many damn girls. “Harper,” I say to get her attention back and take her mind off her worries. I get out and walk around to her side of the Hummer, slide my sunglasses up onto my forehead, and take her face in my hands. “Just fucking trust me.” I look her in the eyes. “If you give in, let go of whatever’s got you all worked up, and just let me handle things, I promise you. We’ll be fine.”
“And what if I don’t give in to you, James? What if I can’t give in to you? What then?”
“Harper, I’m here no matter what. You don’t have to trust me, but everything I do is for us. You got it? Remember what I said. If I ask you to walk through fire?”
“I’m fireproof,” she says back in a sad voice.
“If I ask you to take a bullet?”
“I’m bulletproof.”
“And if I walk away?” Her eyes are gathering tears but both my thumbs swipe the corners of her eyes before they fall down her cheeks. “What happens if I walk away, Harper?”
She swallows hard and shakes her head no.
“I’ll come back for you, Harp. If I walk away, it’s because I’ll come back for you.”
The tears stream out now and there’s nothing I can do to catch them. “I don’t want you to walk away.”
I lean into her ear and whisper, “I never said I was going to, you crazy woman. It’s a just-in-case scenario.”
She sniffs. “You won’t walk away.”
I shake my head. “I’d have to be torn away, Harp.” I smile at her. “They’d have to tear me away.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.” This eases her fears and I feel her relax in my embrace. “We’re like ten minutes from my house, wanna go check it out?”
“I do!” Sasha says. But I shush her with another finger to my lips.
I close Harper’s door and walk back around to my side, catching a suspicious look from Sasha as I pass her window. Great, I get one on board and the other is immediately suspicious. It’s like these girls are opposite forces, able to see through me, but only one at a time.
“You’re not walking away from me, are you, James?” Sasha asks with a desperate edge to her voice.
I slide my sunglasses down and glance in the rear view. “Never, Smurf. I need you more than you can ever imagine.” And then I shoot her with my finger in the mirror and she smiles.
Chapter Thirty-Two - Harper
I don’t believe him. I do not believe one word he says.
I’m not fireproof.
I’m not bulletproof.
And if he walks away, I will die.
Die.
That will be the end for me, because nothing feels right. My stomach is in knots. My mind is racing with all kinds of scenarios. My body is shaking with fear. If they have those files, then what? What happens to me? And if they don’t, what am I supposed to do? Nothing about this makes any sense. Where is Nick? He said he’d come back for me, just like James. But our year is just about up. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t live like this. And the farther we go up PCH, the sicker I feel. My stomach is all over the place. One minute I just want to hurl everything, the next I’m desperate to keep it all inside.
The pier comes into view on the left and Sasha squeals with delight. She’s so happy. But I’m not. I groan and put a hand on my stomach. “James, please, just turn around.”
But he can’t even hear me over the wind and Sasha. Besides, he’s not listening. We pass the pier and turn up Fifth Street towards my house. The little Mexican restaurant is busy because it’s lunchtime now. He slows down and turns left onto Walnut, then makes the first right into the alley.
My alley. I grab him by his upper arm. “I don’t want to go to my house, James!”
He ignores me, just parks the car in front of my garage, then gets out.
But he’s not going to my house. He walks up to the garage across the alley, flips open a control pad, and keys in a code. The garage door opens as he gets back into the Hummer. “I live right here.” He smiles down at me and I feel my worries lift for a moment.
“You lived across the alley from me that whole time?”
He pulls into the garage and cuts the engine. “All the better to stalk you, my dear.”
“Ha,” Sasha says from the back seat. “James, you really are the big bad wolf. He was gonna tell Merc wolves ate me out on the prairie if I didn’t behave, Harper. You better watch out.”
“All right, enough,” James says as he opens his door. “Let’s go inside and I’ll give you the tour before I head out.”
Ohhhh. My stomach does another flip and I have to swallow down the puke. I reluctantly get out and follow them over to the key pad by the inside door. James presses in the code and the garage door closes as the condo door opens. Inside there are steps leading up to a second floor. Sasha and I follow him up to a bright and open living area.
“You can see the ocean,” Sasha says.
He does have a very nice view. One block away, but looking down Sixth Street. When I follow them out onto the balcony, I realize you can even see sand from here. “That’s quite a view the Company pays for.”
I don’t know why I say it. To be a bitch. To hide my insecurities. To make him feel guilty for being here on their dime. Or maybe all of the above.
What’s he doing with me anyway? I get that he wants me to trust him, but why should I? He has never denied that this is a job. He has denied certain very specific things about why he’s here. It’s not to kill me. It’s not to kill Nick. But beyond that, he’s been very evasive.
“You should see the third floor,” James quips back as he takes my hand and leads me over to some stairs on the other side of the living room.
“I wanna see the third floor!” Sasha says excitedly.
“Stay here, Smurf,” James growls.
I know what he’s doing, but I follow him upstairs anyway. He takes me past a bedroom and an office, until we get to the end of the hallway, and then he opens the double doors that lead to the master and waves me in.
The doors close behind me and then his hands are on my hips. Lifting my shirt and caressing my breasts before I can even begin to protest.
I want to protest.
That’s a lie.
I want to fuck him. I want to suck him off so hard he forgets all about these files and stays in bed with me for the rest of the day. But that’s not gonna happen, so the best I can hope for is an hour of dirty pleasure.
I drop to my knees and begin unbuttoning his pants, but his hand grips my upper arm.
“No, Harper. That’s not why I brought you up here.”
“What?” He pulls me to my feet. My face is hot with embarrassment. “What’s wrong?”
He just smiles.
“James, please, you’re scaring me.”
And then he pulls me into an embrace. His mouth drifts to my neck and his hot breath is enough to cause prickles to stream down my spine. “Nothing is wrong. Nothing at all. I just… I just don’t want you to think I’m only here for that. I brought you up here to talk, that’s all. In private,” he adds quickly when he realizes my confusion. “Nothing bad.”
I’m not sure I believe him. Sex, that seems to be our new normal. It’s very obvious he’s been using it to get what he wants. To control things and keep me off balance so I’m more compliant. But talking?
“Why are you so nervous?” he says, cupping my face in that way t
hat allows his thumbs to caress my jaw.
I let out a long sigh. “I’m just not sure any words we say will be very comforting.”
He leads me over to the balcony and opens the slider so we can step out onto the terrace. The ocean hits me immediately, and it’s breezy today, so even though it’s probably not possible, I feel the sea on my skin.
I inhale deeply and then realize James is watching me. I smile, a little bit more at ease with all these familiar scents and feelings. “What?”
He shakes his head and stares. “You’re so pretty.”
Pretty.
It’s such a simple word.
Pretty.
It’s something kids say.
And yet it says so much more than gorgeous or beautiful or hot or sexy. It’s the implied simplicity of the word that make my heart swell around the echo of his voice in my head. “I wish we were Six again.”
He nods at me. “Yeah, a do-over. I wish we could have a do-over. But you know what I’d do different?”
Tears are suddenly running down my face. I wipe them away and swallow down whatever this new emotion is and answer him. “What?”
He closes the distance between us with one step, but that step changes everything in my eyes. That step makes me his. And when his arms come around me, the way they have so many other times, that changes things for me too.
“Why are you crying?” he asks me softly. “Don’t you want to know how I’d do it over?”
I smile a little and wipe my face. “I do, I want to know. I’m sorry, I just feel so sad all of a sudden. Like something is going to go wrong at any moment.”
“Hey,” he says, lifting my chin up so I have to look him in the eyes. “Nothing is gonna go wrong, OK? I’ve got it all under control.”
“All what?” I say, trying to stop the tears. “What needs to be under control?” My heart is racing so bad, I might faint. I reach out for the glass railing of the terrace, but then James has a hold of me. He leads me over to a chaise longue, sits down, and then pulls on me until I sit in front of him and rest back against his chest.
