Текст книги "Meet Me in the Dark"

Автор книги: J. A. Huss

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

“When you find yourself alone with no options… lie.”

– Sydney

I only get two steps towards the stairs when she hurls herself at my back. I lurch forward, grab the railing, and just barely stop a fall that could’ve broken my neck. I reach behind me, grab her upper arm, and swing her around. She hits the floor hard, her head cracking against the banister, and growls out something unintelligible.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

She’s back on her feet the moment it takes for me to say those words, and I get another direct hit. This time she charges me like a bull. I stumble backwards again, lose my footing on the stairs for real this time, and we both fall over sideways. I break her fall, and a sharp pain travels down the nerve that leads to my hand. But there’s no time to think about that, because she’s on top of me, her fists swinging wildly for my face. She connects once, and then I snap out of it.

Girl or not, I’m gonna end this now.

I sit up and grab her hands, then give her a head butt that would knock almost anyone out. She sways backwards, stunned. Blood runs down her face where I cut her forehead open, and I swing my legs up. She is propelled forward over my head and crashes on the landing a few stairs below.

I catch my breath for a moment, sitting sideways on the stairs, to see if she will get up. I stand, jump down the stairs, and straddle her limp body. Her eyes are open though. And she’s not dead.

I’ve been a soldier, a mercenary, and I’ve fought my way out of more bars in more countries than I can count.

That is a look of enough.

“You done?” I ask her, my chest still rising and falling, betraying how unsettled this has me. “You gonna stop? Because I can go all night, bitch.”

I can. I just don’t want to. I’m fucking sick of this girl.

She pulls herself up into a sitting position. Her back rests against the wall made of stacked logs. She’s breathing heavy too, and she looks just as pissed off as I do. But the longer she stays silent, the clearer this all becomes.

She’s mad, yeah. But she’s more than that. The tears well up in her eyes and she presses her lips together, like she’s trying to keep the words inside.

“Speak up,” I yell. Loud enough to make her jump and angry enough to make her afraid. “Because that was it, Syd. That right there? That was my line and you just crossed it.”

A trickle of blood seeps out of her mouth and I wonder, just for a split second, if she bit her tongue or if that’s a sign of something more serious. But she wipes it away with the back of her hand and then spits on my goddamned floor.

I take a deep breath and ask for patience. And then I turn and walk back up the stairs. I grab her coat and snow pants and throw them down at her. The zipper on the jacket catches her lip and she yelps.

“Take the shit I gave you. Get out of my house. Get your ass back in that Cat. And take the path I spent all damn day plowing for you until you get to the end. There’s two trucks there. One is yours. One is mine. Take yours. Leave mine. And never come back here. Do you understand me?” I hurl her boots next, and they hit the wall on each side of her head. Not by accident.

She stays still.

“Now!”

The tears fall down her cheeks before she can bow her head and hide them with her hair. “Just tell me why,” she whispers. “That’s all I want. One answer. Why?”

I hold up my hands with the urge to strangle her. “Why? What?”

“That night. Back at that cabin. The night you came to save me—”

“I never came to save you, Sydney. Let’s get that clear right now. I came to get you, yes. Because I got some information earlier in the day about you, Garrett, and your father. But it wasn’t anything good, Syd. In fact, I’ve never heard such disgusting filth in all my life. I thought—” I stop and thread my fingers through my hair. “I thought you were a victim. That you needed help. That Garrett was controlling you. But you proved to me tonight that you’re not. You don’t need help. At least not the kind I thought. And he isn’t controlling you, Sydney. You do his bidding because you want to. You’re in on his plans because you like it. And let me tell you something right now. I saw you, Sydney. I saw you. I watched you and Garrett after all that shit went down. You weren’t hard to find, either of you. Those two years you spent with him before he ‘disappeared’ should make you as sick as it makes me. And the fact that he kept you close, like a submissive dog, just made it all so much easier. I saw you.”

She stands up, grabs her coat and snow pants, and hugs them to her chest as she looks me in the eye. “That wasn’t me.”

“Right.” I laugh. “Let me guess. You have a twin?” I laugh again, then stop. Because hell, they all have twins, don’t they? Harper has one. James has one. Why can’t Sydney have one? Shit, maybe Sasha has one? I spin around and scrub my hand down my face as I consider this possibility.

“No,” she snarls. “That’s not what I meant.”

I spin back, relieved. “Then what the fuck are you talking about?”

She grabs her boots and walks across the landing, then jumps down the stairs two at a time.

I just watch her go.

Let her go, that small bit of sanity left in my head tells me. Just let her go.

I do. I sit my ass down on the stairs and count the number of steps it takes her to get to the bottom. I’m still sitting there when she stops and then I listen to her pull on the snow gear. Two minutes go by, and then a rush of air through the house and the slam of the door down below tells me she took my advice.

But my curiosity is up now. I know this girl is not what she appears. I know she’s had a lot of fucked-up years. Before I showed up in her life, and after. And I know that everything about her is a wildcard. She represents everything that could go wrong with my last mission. But I can’t stop myself.

I follow her. I jump down to the next landing, and then take the stairs that lead to the first floor, hoping she’s still outside when I get to the foyer.

I pull the door open and… she is. The way she parked gives me a side view of her face. Her cheeks are already red under the interior dome light of the Cat, and she’s cursing under her breath as she presses the ignition button.

Her head spins towards me, then she drags her attention back to starting the Cat.

I grab a coat and gloves from the mudroom off to the right of the foyer and slip my feet into a pair of boots before pulling the door closed behind me and going outside. “Let me do it.” She slams the Cat’s door closed before I can get there and flips me off through the ice-covered window. I pull it back open. “Locks are broken, genius.”

“You want me to leave?” she growls. “Then back off and let me leave. I’m done with you. I’m done with all of this.”

I pull her out of the cab and throw her down into the snow so I can take her place, and then check the choke and press the ignition.

It whines.

I look over at her and she’s still lying down in the snow, her arms and legs spread wide, like she’s a kid about to make a snow angel. “What’d you do to it?”

“Just go back inside, Case. I can take care of myself. You want me to leave, I’ll leave.”

I try the ignition again. Same shit. So I get out and slam the door. “Look, I don’t know what you think is going on here, but you’re crazy. Why didn’t you leave? Huh? Why didn’t you just follow the fucking path and go?”

“Because I need answers.” She says it so softly, I almost miss it.

“I don’t have any answers, Sydney.” I cross the short distance between us and stand over her. “You’re the one with the answers. You people—”

“I’m not one of them.”

“The fuck you aren’t! You’re all the same. And I’ll tell you something right now, I’m not falling for this act you’ve got going. I’m not falling for this pathetic girl thing you’re pulling anymore. I told you. I know you. I’ve been watching you for years. I’ve seen you do so many despicable things. I’ve seen you at your worst.”

“Well, I guess you have it all figured out then, don’t you.” She props herself up on her elbows so she can see me better. “You have nothing figured out, Case—”

“Quit fucking calling me Case.” I can’t stand that name. “No one calls me Case.”

She considers this for a moment, letting me fume internally. “That’s why I call you that. Because to everyone else you’re Merc the killer. But ever since the day my father told me you were coming, I made you into Case the savior.”

“You’re sick.”

“Yup,” she says, getting to her feet after a few moments of struggle in the thick winter clothes. “I’m definitely that.” And then she turns her back and starts walking towards the woods.

I wait it out. Wait for her to turn back so I can call her bluff. But she doesn’t. She keeps walking. Right into the darkness.

And now what? I’m gonna let a girl walk out into the woods at night? Even this girl? I’m gonna let the wolves get a whiff of the blood running down her face? Let her fall in the snow and break an ankle?

An ankle, Merc?

I huff out a small laugh. I’m crazy. I’ve always been a little bit off, that’s no secret. All the anger, and the violence, and the revenge. All the planning, and the waiting, and the watching. It’s all crazy.

But this girl is far, far beyond any kind of crazy I’m used to dealing with. She’s gone, man. Gone.

And yet I walk to the garage where my snow machine is. I’m gonna go get her ass. I’m gonna give this one more shot before I give up. I’m gonna suck in my pride and bring her back.

Because this is it. Eight years have passed since we took down the Company. Eight years since Harper was freed, Nick was taken into the jungle never to be seen again, and James quit being one of the hunters.

I am so filled with envy for that guy. How does he get to walk away? How does he sleep at night knowing we never figured out the final puzzle? How do I live with myself if I don’t finish the job?

I can’t.

I can’t live with myself. Because I know it’s not over. And there’s only one target left.

Not me. Fuck, if this was just about me, I’d be out. Just like James.

This is all about Sasha. And they’re still coming for her, I know it. She knows too much. She’s seen too much. And even though her father did his best and her mother gave up her life to protect her from this shit—she didn’t escape her fate.

She just postponed it.

“She lost her mind in the dark that night. But she carried that seed of hope like it was gold.”

– Case

Even though it’s been fifteen minutes tops since Sydney took off on foot, her bootprints have all but disappeared. It’s not really snowing, but the wind is blowing, and that’s all it takes to cover up her tracks.

Still, I have a snow machine with a headlight. So she cannot have gotten far enough away to avoid me.

I tell myself that, anyway. Because while I have my suspicions about Sydney Channing’s many talents, I’ve really never seen them in action. Tonight on the stairs was just a sample, of that I’m sure. Garrett made her do his dirty work. I watched her approach people. Women. No, I laugh. Not women. Women are too smart. Girls. He needs them weak and dumb. He needs them helpless and scared to get them to participate in his sick sexual fantasies. Sydney was part of his trap. She looks innocent and sweet. She looks vulnerable and honest.

But she is none of those things.

And she knows what she’s doing out here too. They spent a lot of time in the woods. But the secret to success in the snow is a shovel. A shovel can save your life out here. Dig a hole in the snow and make a shelter that hides you from predators and keeps you warmer than you ever thought possible when surrounded by ice. And she does not have one.

I go slow as I enter the woods, concentrating on what’s left of her footprints. This goes on for a hundred yards or so, and that’s when the doubts start creeping in. No way did she get this far on foot.

The trail is still lit up from the stars and the moon. The white snow is the perfect reflection, making it almost bright. But on either side are the woods. And they are very dark.

I turn the machine around and backtrack. I’ve covered up her trail, so that’s no good. I cut the engine and sigh into the night. The wind is chilling and I’m not dressed for this. I just want to go home and forget this stupid girl. This stupid life. This stupid bullshit with these stupid fucking people.

God, how awful to grow up with these people.

The Company is not a corporation. It’s not a business. It’s a secret shadow world government with thousands of people in very high places. Think world leaders, billionaires, mega-charities, religious leaders, manufacturing, healthcare, water treatment—hell, space exploration, these days. Those are the kind of people who work for the Company. It’s like the Mob, only bigger.

Or it was.

James is a former Company assassin who fell in love with the Company princess, Harper. Sasha was the Company mistake. Raised by her father, a former Company assassin trainer, to shoot straight, think clear, and listen carefully, she is the only living member of the Company who knows certain secrets.

The problem is, Sasha doesn’t know she knows these things until something jogs her memory. Like we’re on the road in the Mojave Desert and we stop at a restaurant-slash-seedy hotel. Sasha pops off an offhanded comment like, “Yeah, the guy who lives up in room 17, he’s a Company asset. My dad and I used to come here for—” Whatever. It doesn’t matter who they were, the fact that she spent her childhood rambling around in an RV with her father as he did his Company business puts her squarely into the needs-to-be-eliminated category.

Or—and this is the part that terrifies me—the needs-to-be-activated category. Because that’s what these people do with the girls. They brainwash them. They use them. Just like Garrett used Sydney.

I place my hands on the front of the snow machine and drop my head into them. I’m so tired of thinking about this shit. Why? Why do I have to spend my life chasing these assholes down? Why do I have to care? James and Harper don’t seem to give a shit. Sasha doesn’t give a shit anymore, either. She went to live a new life after we killed all those Company people. And since I convinced her a few years ago that things were OK, she never brings it up. Ever.

But me? No, this is all I’ve thought about since I met the kid eight years ago. I can’t take it anymore. Why? Why do I have to be the guy who gives a shit?

Because, asshole. She’s the little sister you never had. She’s the only family you really got, man. She’s the only one who counts.

I lift my head and sigh again. “Sydney!” I yell. “Where the fuck are you?”

I need her. I hate this so much. But I have to admit it. I need her.

I get off the machine and walk on foot, backtracking the way I came, searching the darkness of the trees on either side. I have no gun, no flashlight, and if the wolves decide to show up, I’m fucked. And so is Sydney.

So I turn around and walk back up to where I stopped the machine earlier. She’s got to be here. It’s a long distance to cover in the fifteen-minute headstart she got on me. But she has to be here.

I spot what’s left of a footprint going off into the woods on the right of the trail, and follow it in and find more. They get clearer the deeper they go. Less wind in here. “Sydney!” I call again. I move on in the direction of the prints and I’m just about to yell again when I see her. She’s sitting down on the ground, her white coat and snow pants a stark contrast to the dark bark of the massive pine tree she’s leaning up against. “What the fuck are you doing? Let’s go. You’re not staying out here. If you want a ride up to your truck, I’ll take you in the morning.”

She sits still, looking down at something in her hands. I squint at them, trying to see what she has. And I have a little moment of panic thinking she has a weapon or some secret Company shit.

But she doesn’t. It’s an acorn. I stuffed it in the pocket of the coat she’s wearing before I left the little cabin, just trying to get rid of her and everything she represents. She’s twirling it in her fingers, staring at it like it’s important. “You know why I keep the acorn, Case?”

I cross the distance between us and grab her by the arm, pulling her to her feet. “Good luck?” I venture, tugging her a little, to get her feet started. She gives in without a fight and walks, so I let her arm go.

“No,” she says. “That’s not why.” And then she laughs. But she’s still walking. I stop for a moment and let her pass me, so I can keep an eye on her from behind. This girl makes me nervous. She’s not entirely sane. And she’s dangerous in ways I’m still not sure of yet.

“Why then?” I ask, more to take my mind off how I will get this girl to give up the information I need.

She doesn’t answer me, just walks.

We get back to the snow machine and she stops and waits for me to get on. I scoot back on the seat and nod my head, indicating she should climb on the front. She’s tiny and I’m huge. I can reach around her and drive no problem. I don’t trust her to sit behind me.

But she doesn’t climb on. She stares at me. “What?” I ask.

“It’s a seed.” She holds up the acorn. “This little thing will grow into a huge tree if all goes well. If it has enough water and sunlight. And good soil.”

“Get the fuck on the snow machine.” I do not have time for existential musings right now.

“But I’ve had this acorn for—” She stops, looking up at something, like she’s thinking. “Ten years?” And then she smiles. It catches me off guard. I’ve been watching this girl for eight of those ten years and not once do I ever think I’ve seen her smile.

I smile with her.

“I picked it up the day Garrett came into my life.” Her smile drops and so does mine. “A seed.” She looks at it. This is when I notice she has no glove on. Her hand is a very pale white.

“Jesus, Sydney. Your hand.” There’s a glove poking out of her pocket, so I grab it and hold it open so she can slip her hand inside. She fists the acorn, never opening up her fingers, but it’s good enough. The hand is definitely on its way towards frostbite and it needs to be warmed up immediately. “I gave you gloves for a reason. You know better than to take them off in this kind of weather.”

She stares down at her newly gloved hand and then looks up at me for a moment. But it’s like she missed everything I just said. The confused look on her face softens and then she looks away, switching gears. “I needed to feel that acorn.”

That’s her explanation for risking amputation?

“It has so much potential. I had so much potential. That’s what Garrett said. And if I would just…” She smiles again. But this time there are tears in her eyes. One rolls down her face, freezing in the cold wind before it can complete its journey. “Just trust him, right? If I just gave into what he was asking, I’d become the oak tree. He was making me the oak tree, Case. But this?” She pokes herself in the chest. “I’m just dead wood, that’s all I am. Dead wood.”

I can’t move. I’m fixated on her. Her sadness runs so deep. Her confession is more of a surrender than an admission.

“Do you know what he did to me?” she asks, slipping her hand out of the glove and dropping it on the ground so she can see the acorn.

I pick up the glove and tug it back over her blanched skin. “I know.”

“All of it?”

“Most of it. I wasn’t there ten years ago, obviously. So I missed that acorn shit. But I watched you after the cabin. For two years. On and off,” I add quickly. “I wasn’t there all the time. Just between jobs.”

She nods and steps forward, lifting her leg to straddle the machine and take a seat in front of me. “It was always you, Case.”

I’m about to start the machine, but I stop myself. “What was?”

“The person in my head who told me to keep going.”

I have nothing to say to that. I talked to this girl once before I took her the night before her wedding. At that cabin eight years ago on Christmas Eve. I punched her in her sixteen-year-old face and threatened to kill her. Told her I owned her and I’d be back to finish the job. I’m not proud of this. I don’t get off on hurting girls. But it was a fucked-up job. My whole life changed that night. Sasha’s whole life changed that night. Hell, I can probably count two or three dozen people whose lives changed that night because of Sydney and her fucking boyfriend. And if she thinks that was me being affectionate and encouraging, she’s more insane than I thought.

“I know what they did to Sasha.”

I freeze as her words sink in.

“I know what they did. Because they did it to me too.” And then she twists her body and gives me a glance over her shoulder. Her tears almost break me. They frost her eyelashes and freeze on her cheeks. It’s started to snow in the last few minutes, only I just now notice it because her dark hair is dotted with flakes that sparkle in the moonlight. She looks like sadness. She looks like a sad, winter princess. “It’s not over, Case. And if you help me, I’ll help you.”