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He pushed his chair until he rolled away a little, putting space between us. He pressed his palms to his forehead. “I’m sorry. Don’t…I’ll stop talking.”
“Don’t stop talking,” I barked at him. “Why are we not talking at all? That’s what’s driving me crazy. Brandon was okay with everything that’s happened. Axel was way too accepting. You…”
He breathed out his nose loudly and sat up. “Bambi…”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Kayli,” he said and rolled over close again until he could grab my chair like before. “Don’t make me talk about it.”
I glared at him. “I slept with Blake last night.” Shot fired. It made me so angry that he’d just sit there and pretend everything was fine and dandy. Maybe now he’d see it wasn’t.
The expression on his face shifted from pained to angry to depressed. I tried to tug my chair away so I could look at the monitors.
Why was I being so unkind? Why did I feel like I had to push him to be angry with me? Was the medicine making me say this stuff? Had the bump on my head broken what little filter I had for my mouth? Maybe I’d never had a filter, but I’d at least tried not to be mean.
At the same time, I needed to come clean. I couldn’t be like I was before, hiding from them. I had to tell them everything, and either they accepted it, or they didn’t and walked away.
“Do you…?” he began and then wiped at his eyebrows with his fingers. “Kayli, tell me, honestly.” He focused on me, held on to my chair, his knuckles turning white as he kept me close. “Please, I just need to know. Don’t tell them I asked. I wasn’t supposed to. It can be between us.”
I wasn’t supposed to. Wasn’t supposed to what? Wait, had they talked about me while I was gone? I gaped at him. “You all did talk about this, didn’t you?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Liam did. You sent him to us, remember?”
I did remember, but that memory came and went sometimes. Geez. “No one told me we weren’t supposed to talk about it.” At least, I didn’t remember that part.
“Just hang on a second,” he said. “I just need to know: are you telling me it’s over? You’re with Blake and not with…not with us?”
“What?”
“I won’t be mad, but I need to know.”
His question sounded like he was asking about more than our relationship. Was he worried about me leaving their team to join Blake?
I tried to focus on one thing at a time. “I told Blake I didn’t want to be exclusive and he said it was fine.”
Marc nodded and pressed his lips together. His mismatched eyes moved around parts of my face, neck, shoulders and hair—looking everywhere but into mine. He inhaled and let the breath out sharply through his nose before he spoke. “We did talk about you. We agreed that we wanted you to stay with us, and we were going to try extra hard to be nice to you and…”
“Why?” I asked. “Why be extra nice?”
“We didn’t want you to stay with Ethan Murdock,” he said. “Not like this. If you want to continue to investigate on his behalf, that’s fine, but we wanted you with us, not doing it the way Ethan and Blake are doing it.”
“We’re on the same team.”
“We can’t be on the same team,” he said. “We might be on the same side, but we’re not all together. I agree that we’re all working toward ensuring innocent people are saved and making sure any illegal or bad things happening in the city are shut down. We’re all interested in that.
“But Blake helps criminals get out from under messes. That’s what he does—we can’t be part of that.”
“Ethan isn’t a criminal,” I said.
“He’s probably ignorant of what’s been going on with his father,” Marc said, “but he’d be the one liable since his father is gone. Ethan could have hired people to figure out where all this money went and why. There’s professionals who do this sort of thing.” He pointed to his chest. “We, our team, we’re not financial analysts. We’re not the ones for this investigation.”
I groaned. It just felt like we had been so close before to getting answers that would have helped Ethan. I felt I’d made promises and just walking away was wrong. “I can’t quit. I’m not going to just give up.”
“You have to ask yourself why Blake wanted us here. Why he brought you along. Or even why he asked to do this in the first place. He could just as easily have brought in professionals. Why a taxi driver, an ex-bond enforcer, and a thief? No offense, but without Corey and Doyle, the best we could have done here is just what we’ve been doing: exposing the prostitution ring on board, stealing a cell phone or two, and copying hard drives. But then what do we do with all that information?”
I sat back in the seat, arms crossed over my chest. I didn’t care if he was right. I wanted to believe that we were on the right track and were here for a reason. Didn’t Ethan want me on this job?
Or was it because Blake had talked him into it? Marc was right that I didn’t know anything about investing. What was I doing here?
I waved my hand through the air. “You’re getting me off track. Why are you so worried about Blake?”
“Blake doesn’t like us, and we aren’t exactly friends. We can’t work split up like this. Are you going to follow him?” he asked. He reached out for one of my hands, but I had them tucked tight under my arms. He held me by the elbows instead. “Tell me we haven’t lost you already.”
My insides twisted so tight. “This isn’t about Ethan,” I said. “Is it?”
He pursed his lips tightly.
I was on the right track. “This is about…you don’t want Blake and…” I couldn’t find the words.
Marc turned from me and grumbled, “I can handle a lot. I can understand you were overwhelmed by us, and things got a little mixed up. I just can’t stand the thought of you and him…”
Time seemed to slow. He faced away from me, like he was shutting me out.
I looked at his back, at the shape of his body. I pictured the scars on his skin.
“Marc,” I said, but I didn’t know how to finish.
I was hurting them more and more, had been asking so much of them when I’d always done everything on my own. I couldn’t believe how much I was depending on them, wanting them to care about me. Needing them to let me care about them in return.
I didn’t know how Liam and Henry managed, but in the back of my mind, I’d already started picturing the same for my group, asking “what if?”
I was trying to figure out what to say when the handle shook right before the door opened.
Awkward Lunch
We both turned to see Brandon and Axel come into the room. Brandon seemed okay, in the same dark clothes and baggy sweater as before, carrying a food tray.
Axel brought a second one, loaded with a coffeepot and cups. He had changed into khakis and a Hawaiian shirt and looked like a tourist. His expression was dark, but his hair was wet, combed back and tied neatly in a ponytail.
As they came in, filling up the tiny room, I began to feel claustrophobic. I wasn’t sure I could handle all three of them in the same place, especially having just found out that they were plotting against Blake.
Uncomfortable or no, we needed to talk about it. Now.
I had opened my mouth, but I froze as Axel and Brandon got out of the way of the door, revealing more people behind them.
Kevin carried a jug of water and Henry had another food tray.
Marc raised his hands and looked up at the ceiling. “Thank God,” he said, motioning toward the food. “Someone feed her.”
I grumbled, tempted not to eat to make him uncomfortable, but the smell of salt and meat made me change my mind.
“Hey, it’s you,” Kevin said with a smile as he came right over and held up a fist. I bumped it with mine. “Good to see you back. Don’t go swimming without me next time.”
He seemed really upbeat, different from how he usually was around me.
I wondered if the others had talked to him, too: Pretend to be nice to her while we talk her into staying with us.
Then I caught it. There was a tightness in the corner of his eyes, and an edge to his smile. He was tense about something.
My heart pounded. The secrets were many among us, even after I’d wanted to open up. I didn’t have the nerve to say anything to Kevin, who shouldn’t have been involved. I avoided looking Marc, Axel, or Brandon in the eyes. I couldn’t trust myself not to say something I’d regret, like demanding they tell me their real thoughts and not just say what I wanted to hear in an effort to try to get on my good side.
“Avery made sure to get burgers from the good specialty restaurant,” Axel said, putting his platter on the cot, balancing it carefully. The computer table was too full of computer bits, ashtrays, and notes.
Henry and Kevin sat on the floor by the door, backs against the wall, sharing a plate of food.
Kevin was our age, but I rarely saw him unless we were in the middle of some trouble, like now. He was tall, with hair cut close to his head. He was cute, but I’d started to think of him as that older brother who was never home anymore. He was usually a little tense, even on normal days.
