Burning Through Gravity

by Addison Moore

  Her eyes shift to the street with the color draining from her face. And then I know. He’s already done it. He’s already touched my sister in that sacrilegious way. It’s clear his retribution deserves far more than a simple knifing.

  “Oh, my, God.” I shake my head. “Why would you ever stay with someone like that?”

  “Look—I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She practically pushes me down the stairs. “Stay in school—get your education. You’re a smart girl, Stevie. I want you to be able to take care of yourself if you have to.”

  “Is that what this is about? You can move into the dorm with me.” That’s not true, but I’d stack lies to the moon to keep Aspen from that monster. “Or Kinsley. They’ve got plenty of space.”

  “No, I’m fine. Trust me, I’d move in with my mother before I did any of those things. I’m here because I want to be. I’m safe. I promise.”

  I give a gentle kiss to her cheek and pull back to examine her beautiful face. She holds the same exaggerated arched brows, same wide eyes as me. A boy in school once told me that I looked like a villain. Had he added a misunderstood villain, I would have told him he was right.

  “You’re a lousy liar, Aspen. I don’t believe for a second you want to be anywhere near this place.” I run down to Lincoln’s truck and slam the door as we speed away.

  “S’up little sis?” He peels out of the neighborhood as if we just conducted a heist. “Heard you took off with the big cat himself. Let me guess. You let him use you as a scratching post again?”

  The city melts around us as he speeds down street after street, turning the hillsides into a kaleidoscope of color and light, tumbling and twisting as he navigates his way to the freeway.

  “No, I didn’t let him.” But I wish I did. “Lincoln”—I dig my shoulder into the seat to better face my buffed-out brother—“why do people end up with the wrong person sometimes?” I’m talking about Aspen and Henry, but a part of me wonders if Ford and I are in that number.

  “Because it feels good—like a rush. It’s like jumping out of a plane. It sounds like a great idea at the time, but the faster the ground starts coming at you—it makes you rethink things. In a relationship like that, the chute only opens about fifty percent of the time.”

  “Those are lousy odds.”

  “People get hurt, broken—gutted on the inside. That’s why I’m keeping it safe and sane. I don’t want anything to do with a commitment.”

  “So you’re just going to sleep around forever and let the STDs fall where they may?” Lincoln is a notorious womanizer. Daddy’s money is the ultimate aphrodisiac, and, at the end of the day, that’s what brings the girls to the yard. Lincoln is devastatingly handsome, but no woman in her right mind would want to be valued less than toilet paper forever—screwed in every way just to have their 24-hour relationship discarded like a used tampon.

  He cranes his neck my way. “Why are you always such a cynic? You should really try to find the silver lining in life more often. As much as you don’t drink, or eat the things you’re convinced are going to kill you, all that bitterness is just as toxic. Anger is worse than a pesticide, and you’re brimming with it.”

  “Thanks for the PSA.” I slouch in my seat because I hate it when Lincoln is right. It’s a terrible, terrible thing for my carnal beast of a brother to ever have the moral high ground over me. I wonder what he would have said to Claire if she were here, instead. I’m pretty sure he’d say she was a modern day example that all little girls should follow—that she always managed to see the silver lining in things. And she did. Claire would have seen the silver lining in my death. I try my hardest to harness my inner Claire. “I just don’t want to be alone anymore, and I thought you might feel the same.”

  “Hardly. But for now, baby sis, we’re going to utilize that beaten down, corrosive heart of yours and put it to good use. I need more ammo if we’re going to swallow Jinx like a goldfish at some frat house romp. All I need is a little more. I want you to go into his office and check out his files, his computer, hell—steal his phone. You can replace it on his desk the next day, and he’ll think he had a brain fart.”

  “He probably has a password.” A wave of nausea spreads through me at the thought of stealing anything else from him.

  “I’ve got software that eats through passwords like birthday cake.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then you’ll be locked and loaded and ready to show our father how far you’re willing to go. He’s been salivating over that damn cat since the fiscal report three quarters ago. But they’re just about to break, and if you don’t take him down, I can guarantee someone else will.”

  “Are you serious?” The thought of Ford losing his company makes my stomach turn—ironic since one of the people considering the takeover is me.

  “Yes, I’m serious. I sat in on Merlin’s board meeting a few days ago. Jinx is surrounded. The dogs are out. They’re baring their teeth. It’s just a matter of who pounces first.”

  We pull up to Rigby, and I wave as Lincoln speeds off into the night.

  Someone is going to take Jinx away from Ford. Now, do I tell him, or take it away myself?

  On Wednesday, Evilyn has us mining through bags of her personal receipts and sorting them into files labeled personal, work related, business expense, and travel. We’re to use our better judgment and allocate them to the proper slots. The IRS has slapped her with an audit, and I’ve been laughing for an hour straight on the inside.

  She strums her claws over the protective glass layer of the desk. “If you screw this up on purpose, I’ll know. I’m going over everything tonight as soon as I get home.”

  She paces to the door, and I take advantage of my brief window of freedom by leaning into Belle.

  “I hope when I’m her age I have more exciting things to do than file through receipts. But then I would have done them myself to begin with and not put my future IRS audit in the hands of two interns.”

  “What did you say?” She stalks over to her desk and plops into her seat.

  “I said I’m pretty sure Dr. Bennett would be pissed to high heaven knowing that Bella and I have been subject to your Draconian rule.”

  Bella gasps, and I offer her a weak smile. I keep forgetting that Evilyn’s wrath falls on us both. But the truth is, if I weren’t still considering swiping Ford’s company from him, I would have already ratted the Evil One out. She’s called Bella “Areola” twice this morning. Bella says it’s no big deal, that karma has a way of dealing with people like Evilyn, and maybe the tax audit is one of them, but I’m not eager to wait for a trumped up version of fate to walk through the door and bitch slap anybody.

  “I’m very busy.” Evilyn’s face curls with a wicked grin. She’s proving impervious to my thinly veiled threat. “Jinx is on the cusp of doing something very important.” She says those last two words as if they were each their own sentence. “The world has no idea what we’re capable of.” She jabs hard into her keyboard before pulling away from the monitor. “But in less than two weeks, the cat will be out of the bag.”

  A polite knock vibrates against the door, and the three of us turn around.

  “Is this a private party or can anyone join?” Ford steps in a little more jovial than usual. He greets the three of us with a smile, but his eyes linger on mine a few seconds longer than they need to.

  Evilyn hops over to him so fast she nearly trips on Bella’s shoe. I’m sure there will be a special hell to pay for the day Bella decided to don her bloated Ugg boots.

  Evil wraps her arms around him, and he glances my way, hesitating for a second before returning the favor.

  Beasts. I turn around. Get a room already.

  I’m so stupid. Who the hell tells someone they care about to make out with their ex-girlfriend? My heart sags. It burns like molten iron in my chest, heavy and hot. I’m not too surprised by my actions. Somehow in the short span of twenty-three years, I’ve managed to redefine self-sabotage—partl
y because I hate that I lived and Claire didn’t, partly because I’m a bad seed that constantly demands to fight the world. My feelings for Ford crept up like a shadow that tapped me over the shoulder and scared the shit out of me in the process. I’ve been avoiding people for so long the only logical thing—the only natural thing—my brain could think to do was run the other direction.

  He walks her backward until they’re in my line of vision.

  “You up for lunch?” His hands ride up and down her arms, molesting the hell out of her right in front of my eyes. He might as well have reached over and ripped my beating heart out of my chest, held it up to the Evil Queen as an appetizer.

  “Hell, yes, I’m up for lunch. I’m starving”—she purrs, and I can feel it coming—“but not for food.” She outlines his jaw with her finger before picking up her purse. “You girls have fun. If I’m lucky, my boss just might insist I take the rest of the afternoon off.” She smirks in my direction before they head to the door.

  Ford cuts a glance my way, and I’m quick to stare out the window. This is what I wanted, right? To push him away. Then why the hell do I feel like a fish that’s just been gutted? By my own hand no less.

  The memory of sitting in his lap yesterday comes back to me. I was cozy and carefree, exchanging half-hearted barbs while he warmed me with his body. Don’t I want that? Every part of me screams yes.

  The door clicks shut like the loading of a gun.

  “And there’s that.” I lean back in my seat. Before Bella and I can process what just happened, the door bounces open again letting in a crisp breeze that washes over me with all the hope of a lovesick schoolgirl. And as much as I hate myself for it, that’s exactly what I am.

  But it’s not Ford, or even the Wicked Witch of the West attempting to retrieve something she forgot—like my dignity—its just Carter, and my chest implodes with grief. I’m so appalled by my own ridiculous behavior, I roll my eyes.

  He nods to Belle. “Jener wants to see you in his office.”

  “Right away!” she sings, skipping her way into the hall. I take it back. I’m appalled by Bella’s ridiculous behavior. I fold my arms across my chest like a pouting toddler. Okay, not really. I’m happy for Belle. I wish I were Belle. There. The agony of admitting that I actually want Ford is almost as painful as the thought of losing him.

  Wow, only in my screwed-up world.

  Carter settles his body against the door as if trapping me inside.

  “I want to talk to you, and I want you to be completely honest with me.”

  My stomach pinches because, for a brief second, I think he knows what I’m up to. But he doesn’t. This is about Aspen because it’s always about Aspen with Carter. That’s what true love does—it inundates you until you can’t breathe. Ford flashes through my mind explosive as fireworks, and I try to push him right back out.

  “I’ll tell you everything I know,” I say as he takes a seat next to me. “I think he beats her. In fact I know he does, she all but admitted it to me last night.”

  “What?” He looks stunned, angry and grieved all at once. “Are you talking about Aspen?”

  “Aren’t you talking about Aspen?”

  His mouth falls open. Carter rakes his fingers through his hair and drops his head like he might vomit.

  “God, I’m going to kill him.” He’s lost in a daze I can’t seem to pull him out of. I’m pretty sure I don’t want to. I’d much rather cheer him on. I don’t care who offs Henry so long as my sister is free from that matrimonial bondage.

  “It should have been you with her.” I swat him over the arm. “She loves you.”

  He looks up like a deer about to get walloped by a Semi.

  “Did she say that?” He’s curt again, all business.

  “Not in so many words, but she does.”

  His affect flattens again. “That’s not what I came to talk about.” His voice breaks as if he were sorry for both himself and my sweet sister. “Did you tell your dad about Gravity?”

  My body flushes with heat. Every last inch of me vibrates with embarrassment at the thought of getting caught.

  “No,” I whisper. Oh, God, I’m so stupid! “Does Ford know who my father is?”

  “No.” He spits it out so fast I believe him. “And I suppose you like that. What is it with you two anyway?”

  “I guess we’re allergic to the truth.” In the mother or all ironies, that alone is the one honest statement between us.

  Carter leans into me. His eyes lock over mine like steel traps, and I can’t look away.

  “Are you helping your father steal my brother’s company?”

  The room sways. My body pulsates in one big heartbeat, getting ready to detonate and take this whole damn digital empire with me.

  “Somehow the Gravity files were given to Merlin,” he continues, his eyes still hard over mine. “Your father premiered a nightclub last week that we were slated to open and stole every detail right down to the monogram as a big fuck you.”

  The blood drains from my body. Could I have done that?

  “I didn’t.” I shake my head confused.

  “Save it.” He wipes his face down, looking far more fatigued than pissed. “I want you to stop. Let this be as far as it goes.”

  “I swear on all that is holy, I wasn’t the one who gave that information to my father—to anyone for that matter.” Lincoln floats through my mind with his shit-eating grin. He couldn’t come to friends and family day because he was out clubbing all night.

  Oh. My. God. I handed him the proverbial keys to Gravity that night at the Trattoria.

  Carter examines me with all the scrutiny and caution you give a slithering viper.

  “Don’t do this.” He glides his hand over my hair, and it feels as if he’s looking right through me and into Aspen. “I know there’s something between you and my brother.” A look of grief crosses his face. “I watched you grow up. You were isolative. You were mean as they came to any boy who even looked twice. You deserve to be loved, and you and I both know your father is incapable. He’s not worth throwing away something that can be special. You and Ford can have that.” His gaze dips past my shoulder. “There’s nothing worth losing the one you love for, least of all pride.”

  “So that’s what happened between you and Aspen?”

  “Something like that.”

  “You have to get her back, Carter.” Tears come, and I’m pleading now. “She’s so sad, so alone. I’m terrified he’s going to kill her. How could you let her end up with him?” I smack him over the arm. “How could you have just left her all those years ago?” My voice rises a little too accusingly as if any of this could ever really be Carter’s fault.

  He presses his lips together hard as if to keep it together.

  “I don’t know, Stevie. Things got fucked up so fast I couldn’t see straight until I had a kid on the way.” He gives a hard sniff and comes to. “You need to tell my brother who you really are.” He opens the door. “I’ll give you a week.”

  I watch as he walks down the hall, and I close myself in the room.

  A week.

  I head over to Evilyn’s desk to where her laptop is still opened haphazardly and pull out my phone. I take a picture of every file I can find—all of them regarding something called Jeneration Jinx. It looks like some hybrid file sharing system that links all of your social networks into a streamlined feed. It’s genius. I sit back in the Evil One’s leather throne. The slight hint of her perfume clogs up my senses, and my chest bucks with a weak laugh. I bet that’s what’s happening to Ford right now. She’s attempting to suffocate him with her hair, her mouth, any part of her body that he’ll allow. For a second I imagine his head locked between her thighs and cringe.

  Her phone sits on her desk, red like a siren as if to spite me.

  I pull it forward, same make and model as mine. It blinks to life. No password required. A dull laugh thumps through me. I head to her recent calls, several from “Mom,” a smattering from
someone named Magic, and two from Ford last week. I head to her texts and it’s a laughable bore—she’s becoming more like me by the minute. No text messages from Ford. Not even one from her mother. An entire slew of recent messages to and from Pepper, her show pony. Just your standard, do this, do that, commands that Evilyn is used to barking out. God, she even makes a lousy friend. I go to put it down, and it vibrates in my hand sending a mild feeling of electrocution up right through to my shoulder.

  A text from Magic. Payday.

  It’s payday. I stare at the words far longer than needed before scrolling upwards to read the older texts.

  Evilyn, I’m one hundred percent yours.

  Magic, Good.

  Evilyn, Done.

  Magic, Payday.

  Then today: Evilyn, Sent.

  Magic, Payday.

  Cryptic. I set the phone back on her desk and swivel in her expensive lambskin chair until I have a full view of the Jinx landscape outside the window.

  What exactly is the Evil Queen up to?

  Ford

  A week thumps by with Stevie avoiding me at every turn. I’ve texted her several messages, my desperation to see her is a little more obvious in each one. At the office, she’s elusive as a shadow. I’ve brought up the interns to Evelyn to see how she’s faring, but she offered nothing but a generalization. Evelyn hasn’t said one nasty thing about either of her interns, and that’s not like her. Suddenly she’s all business—ethical where before she was ruthless, always ready with an idea that could undercut the enemy. The two of us were this close to getting back together last summer. That night at the party, I almost fell into the mouth of a relationship with her again. But that’s not who I landed in bed with that night.

  A dopey smile flexes across my face.

  Stevie. She’s all I think about from eyelids open. I can’t brush my teeth without her infiltrating my thoughts. I took Evelyn to lunch each day Stevie was around just to get a reaction, but it’s been nothing but silence and cold shoulders.

  I step into Evelyn’s office. I’ll give it one more try. I scan the area, but Stevie is nowhere to be found. Her friend Bella glances up for a moment before returning to her work.