When he looked down at me, he smiled as if he was my friend. “Get arrested here or come with me. That’s your choice.” He opened his black jacket, exposing a hidden gun. “I suspect Noah could always use another injury.”
“Leave him alone,” I screeched as he laid more pressure on my ankle.
“Then, get in the car,” he growled.
I didn’t have a choice.
I nodded.
He grabbed my hand and yanked me up. When he pulled me across the parking lot, my leg limped, but he only sped up. The ground was moving beneath us. The air was impossible to breathe. I tried to look around, but I only saw a cloud of smoke. It wasn’t until the headlights broke through the darkness that I saw the car.
The man who had initially attacked me stood next to the truck. The black door was opened, revealing another man, but it wasn’t someone I recognized. I flinched, digging the back of my heels into the ground, but Anthony shoved my back.
“Get in, Sophia,” he ordered against my ear, and so, I did.
I Was Dead
I gritted my teeth as the truck skidded out of the parking lot, speeding onto the road. I didn’t have to look behind me to know that the Traveler’s Bureau had successfully gone up in flames, burning all of Topeka’s records as it fell, including Rinley’s. That is, if they didn’t have a digital copy somewhere, which I’m sure they did. But we didn’t. We didn’t have anything.
I closed my eyes, but they still burned. Every part of me burned. Even my memory burned. I could see Lily running and Broden getting arrested. Even worse, I could hear the gunshots as Noah screamed my name. He was shot. He was bleeding.
“Don’t cry now, dear,” Anthony cooed from the passenger seat. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I’m not crying,” I spat, opening my eyes, only to glare. The burn from the ash was worth it.
Anthony turned around from the passenger seat to look at me. As his eyes moved over me, he grinned maniacally. He didn’t have any soot on him. Not a single spec. For being so close to it, I couldn’t understand how he looked so collected, so calm, so untouched.
“You’re a tough one, aren’t you, Ms. Gray?”
I looked away, focusing my attention on the streets. If I knew where we were going, I could escape. Get back to Lyn, or Miles, or anyone that I knew from school. Anyone but Anthony − or Tony – or whoever he was. But the windows were purposely tinted too dark to see out of. I wouldn’t be able to memorize the streets. I had to find another way out.
“I know who you are, Tony,” I emphasized as I turned my attention back.
Anthony’s eyes lit up the same way Noah’s did when I defied him. “I’m glad my cousin had a chat with you,” he mocked. “He seemed to like you enough to protect you, but I didn’t think he’d tell you any of that,” he mentioned, his head tilting to the side. “You must be special.”
My cheeks burned. For the first time, I was thankful I was covered in ash. “He isn’t the one who told me,” I corrected carefully, refusing to bring up the twins.
Anthony’s smirk fell, but I bit my lip to prevent myself from talking. I could taste the ash, but my words would taste worse. Anthony had a gun on him. I wasn’t helping anyone if I was dead.
“I forgot to introduce you to my friends,” Anthony stated, trying to gain the upper hand in the conversation.
He gestured to the men next to me, one on my right, one on my left. The man on my right was the burly man that had tackled me. His nose was still bleeding, and his hands curled into fists as if he would strangle me at any moment. The other was a younger man – impeccably serious but strangely familiar now that he was close. He didn’t say a word. Instead, he kept his blue eyes locked on Anthony as if expecting more orders.
I eyed them, but I didn’t look at them too long. I didn’t want them to think I was planning an escape.
The truck drove on and on, and I refused to speak. Anthony stopped taunting me as the tomo cleared his system. He answered his phone a few times, but none of the calls revealed details of the incident. Was Broden in jail? Were Noah’s injuries fatal? Did the others get caught? Nothing was said, and Anthony was keeping it that way.
I ignored the searing pain in my ankle and glared at my hands. My palm was cracked and cut, but blood splattered over my fingers. My throat tightened, and I flipped my hands over to look for an injury that explained it.
The blue-eyed boy leaned into me. “I’d like to handcuff her, sir,” he said, watching my hands as if I had a way to attack them.
“Pierson,” Anthony scolded him as if he had been defied.
I stifled a gasp. Pierson. I hadn’t been imaging the strange familiarity. He was Miles’ friend who had watched the door at the Homecoming party, the one who had purposely called the cops to expose the tomo.
“She keeps moving them,” Pierson said, gesturing to my hands.
I refused to look at him. Was Pierson still Noah’s comrade? Why would he handcuff me? I needed to be able to escape.
When Anthony nodded, Pierson handcuffed me carefully, dropping my hands in my lap. Anthony’s smile grew. “We are nearing the mansion,” he said as if he were going to have me handcuffed anyway. “That blood,” he started, “it’s not yours, is it?”
My stomach lunged into my throat. Noah. I remembered how he grabbed my hands and pulled me down the stairwell. It was Noah’s blood on my hands. Noah’s blood.
I stared at the crimson color.
“Doubt he survived that shot,” Anthony prided as the truck neared a large iron gate with a twisting driveway. At this range, I couldn’t see a building through the windshield. Just a field and winding asphalt.
“I’m sure he’s fine,” I retorted, wincing at my emotional voice.
Anthony lowered his window to type a code into a black box. It opened the gate, and the silent driver raced down the thin road.
“Are you worried about him, Sophia?” Anthony interrogated.
My fingers curled against my pants.
“Because I think you are.”
“I think he’s out of the Topeka Region by now,” I responded, knowing how impossible it was to deny that I knew Noah.
“With his baby sister?” Anthony mocked. “I know that you couldn’t find her file,” he stated boldly, the truck nearing a giant mansion with an additional gate out front. “And I know Rinley is not what he’s really after.”
The truck rolled over a bump, and a man dressed in dark green waved us through. We parked outside the prosperous home. In seconds, Anthony stepped out of the vehicle, and the two other men pulled me out after him. Pierson held onto my shoulder, and Anthony looked at the larger man in disgust. “Go clean yourself up,” he spat.
The man glared at me before disappearing into the house. It was large. Four stories high and wider than a hotel. Windows spanned out over every floor, dark green shudders lining the brown exterior with frivolous decorations. A twisting rosebush filled the front lawn, and ivy grew up the left side of the house like a painting. It was beautiful, but I was in trouble no matter who lived here.
Anthony cracked his knuckles and stretched out as if he had been innocently exercising. “Shall we go inside, then?”
“It’s not like I’m making the calls, Tony,” I countered.
Anthony nodded at Pierson. “Watch her.” He walked inside quickly.
I tensed, and Pierson stood in the sun, sweat collecting on his brow. I looked at him closer now that Anthony wasn’t studying my every move. Pierson wasn’t much taller than me, but he was strong. The veins on his arms protruded out, callouses digging into my exposed skin where he held my shoulder. I hadn’t even realized my shirt had ripped at the shoulder, but Pierson wasn’t looking. He kept his bright blue eyes on the house, glaring against the sun. He was tan. The color of his eyes looked lighter against his skin, and made him look even younger. I couldn’t imagine how he worked for someone like Anthony or Phelps or whoever had collected me. I couldn’t fathom anything since he knew Noah.
“Lie,” Pierson whispered so hastily that I thought I was hallucinating.
“What?”
Pierson coughed loudly, gaining the attention of the guards around us. He nodded at them, and they mindlessly went back to work. Without hesitation, he repeated it out of the corner of his mouth, “Lie.”
“About what?”
Pierson widened his eyes at me, opening his mouth, and then, Anthony shouted from the doorway, “Bring her in.”
Pierson gripped my shoulder until I winced before pushing me forward. I stumbled over my twisted ankle and held back a whimper. The burly man had done more than twist it. I forced my mind to go elsewhere as I tripped over the front steps and entered the mansion. The tiles were pearl white, and they filled the entrance room. A secretary sat at the entrance, prim and proper, with her eyes focused on the computer as if she couldn’t see them dragging a helpless teenager inside the walls of her work. I gaped at her, unsure how she could ignore me, as Pierson walked me to the nearest suede couch. “Sit.”
When I did, I looked around. Just as the outside was beautiful, the inside was filled with riches. Golden frames held paintings, and silver bowls filled with candies sat on the desks. Glass vases filled with fresh sunflowers were on every mahogany table. The room reeked of their sweet fragrance, reminding me of history class. We had learned about the sunflower and how it used to be Kansas’ state flower before the United States was separated from an international economic collapse. Now that I knew we were actually in Missouri, I wondered what state flower we should’ve had.
I shivered.
Anthony spun around the entranceway as if it were his mansion we had entered. “Phelps likes to keep his house very cool for his flowers,” he said.
“I thought flowers liked heat.”
“Not once they’ve been cut from their stems,” he said, looming over me. “They’re more vulnerable when they’re by themselves.”
I ignored his childish threat as I glanced from painting to painting. The hallway to my left was filled with them, but the only one I could see clearly was at the end of the hallway. I saw a bridge. A long, dark bridge, lit up by thousands of lights by a sea − or an ocean − or a river. I couldn’t tell, but I had seen it before. The bridge that Lyn had tattooed across her collarbone. It was there, on Phelps’ wall as a decoration, alive and breathtaking. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from it.
Pierson followed my gaze. “The Brooklyn Bridge,” he stated.
I tore my gaze away from the painting. “What are you talking about?”
I didn’t want him to know I was studying it, but Pierson looked back at me like he already knew. His blue eyes were shining, and his lip twitched. Lie, Pierson’s voice echoed through me.
I gulped before looking back at Anthony, “I’m here to talk,” I began, “I thought that’s what you brought me here for.”
Anthony crossed his arms and leaned back. If he were anything like Noah, then I knew he was surprised. “You didn’t seem to want to talk earlier.”
I shrugged, “I’m not dying for this.”
A slow smile spread across his cheek as he sat down across from me. He was my height now. “What do you want to talk about?”
“What do you want to know?”
Anthony squared his shoulders. “We’re going to wait for Phelps.”
“Why?” I asked innocently, yet my heart pounded. If Phelps found me here, he would arrest my father. He might even kill my father. “If we kept this between us, you’d get all of the credit.”
Anthony glared back. “And what do you get out of it?”
“My name,” I answered quickly, deceiving him as best as I could. “I want to be able to have a job in the future. If I get incarcerated for this—” I paused, thinking of Miles, how he had been beaten and probably worse. I shuddered, concentrating on looking as terrified as possible. “You know what happens.”
Anthony paused for a moment, considering the idea, and I sat in silence, forcing myself not to overdo it.
“You said it yourself,” I noted quietly. “Noah is probably dead,” I stuttered over the words, trying not to lose myself in them. “I don’t know him. You must know that since you were around him as a kid.” For once, my lack of childhood relationships was a benefit.
Belief filled Anthony’s emerald gaze.
“I was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” I continued. “He thought my father’s connections could help him, but we refused. Noah used me for his plan.”
“And what is his plan exactly?” Anthony asked, biting my bait without further hesitation. “What is my cousin up to? What’s he after?” He didn’t know, after all.
“I want a deal first,” I responded.
A loud clang echoed through the house. I jumped, turning my torso to see Pierson picking up a pile of candies that had fallen off a counter near him. It was only then that I realized the blue candies weren’t candies at all, but a collection of pills. They had suns etched into them, just as I had heard about. Tomo. Phelps had tomo in his mansion.
Anthony cursed. “Clean that up and get out, Pierson.”
“Yes, sir,” Pierson mumbled, his face unreadable. He never looked back.
“A deal,” I repeated to Anthony.
“We already made a deal, Ms. Gray,” Anthony responded tersely. “I’m not up for playing games with you.”
“And you aren’t,” I said. “But I want to know where Rinley is.”
Anthony’s jaw opened slightly, and then, he covered up his surprised expression with laughter. “What could you possibly gain from knowing where that useless kid is?”
“What could you get out of knowing what Noah is up to?” I tested.
Anthony’s cheeks flushed with frustration. “I wouldn’t test me, Ms. Gray,” he leaned back, exposing his gun again. “I have other means of getting information from you than just deals and bets.”
“I was raised by one of the best investigators in the State,” I spat back. “I think I know how to hold back information, even in pain, Mr. Tomery.” I used the last name with little confidence, but Anthony flinched as if he had been slapped.
He moved his head as if he did it on purpose. Noah did the same thing when he was trying to gain control. They were alike, and I could use it against Anthony. “Noah cares about his family a lot.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Anthony spat. “His family − my family − was executed in Phoenix, and he let it happen.”
They even had the same weak spots. As much as Anthony was older, he was still a vengeful kid.
“Noah cares—”
“All I care about is revenge,” Anthony spat, his brow furrowing above his nose.
I swallowed my nerves, “So, make a deal with me,” I said, “and you can get it.”
“I shouldn’t have to make the deal.”
I fiddled with my handcuffs to keep Anthony from realizing how hard I was beginning to shake. “Then, Phelps won’t get the information he’s looking for,” I threatened, “and I’m betting you’ll be sent back to Phoenix. The records were destroyed under your watch, after all.”
Anthony’s hand shot to his gun, and he pulled it out faster than I was able to comprehend. He pointed it directly at my face, and I froze like an animal about to be killed. My palms filled with sweat, and I wondered if Noah’s blood would run down to my wrists from the condensation. The thought consumed me as I stared down the barrel less than a yard away from me.
I sighed like it was my last breath, like it had already happened, but Anthony lowered it. His high cheekbones caused shadows to drift down his face, but his eyes weren’t hollow. They moved from side to side, filled with thoughts I couldn’t guess. His emerald irises traced every inch of my expression. He was reading me, and I hoped that my face was unreadable, that I looked as if I had stared down a barrel a hundred times when my father taught me how to be silent. I hoped Anthony saw a girl who didn’t mind dying without a few last words. I prayed he would let me go.
“You have a de
al.” His voice dropped just like his cousin’s did. “Talk.”
Ignore the Blood
My hands remained cuffed. They didn’t even remove them when they put a sweater over me. Backwards, of course. The hood was pulled over my eyes, and the edges tugged at the back of my ears. The only thing I could make out was the strong fingers that dug into my right shoulder. Pierson’s grip.
After I had told Anthony information, he kept me in Phelps’ mansion in a backroom. Hours passed. Once the sun disappeared, he pulled me out and directed me into a car. Pierson drove us somewhere, but we had left the truck minutes ago. We were walking, and I had no perception of where we were.
The air smelled like oak trees, and my nose tingled at the familiar scent of a forest. My feet stumbled from concrete to a dirt path. Why Anthony was taking me into the woods was something I didn’t want to ask myself. I fixated on my senses instead – the cool air, the loose ground, the waving trees. If I had to run, I would. If it came down to it, I wondered if I would kill.
“Take it off,” Anthony’s whisper was hoarse.
Fingers grazed my nose through the cloth hood as it was grabbed and yanked down. My hair swished in front of my eyes as my pupils adjusted to the night sky. It was late − much later than I thought − and stars scattered across the atmosphere. We weren’t close to the city, but I recognized the large oak tree in the middle of the clearing.
We were on my father’s land. I was almost home.
Anthony walked forward. “We have a ways to go.”
Pierson pressed his fingertips to my back, and I sprung forward, following the blonde through the trees.
“Step over,” Pierson directed me, pointing at a pile of stones, but I already had lifted my leg. I knew the piles of stones. I had nearly broken my ankle on them when I was surveying the land last summer. I wouldn’t forget they were there, even though it was almost too dark to see them.
Anthony didn’t bring a flashlight, and I severely doubted the two boys knew the woods like I did.
Take Me Tomorrow Page 16
