Don’t flatter yourself, babe.
If he was getting paid, he’d kill you too.
I exhaled deeply, folding the note and tucking it into the envelope. Suddenly Hazel sat up and grabbed her phone. She jabbed in Christine’s name in the recipient slot.
“Wait,” I said, putting a hand on her arm. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“What do you mean?”
“Have you told Christine about the notes yet?” Hazel shook her head. “We don’t know if we can trust her.”
“But I can trust you?”
It cut through me, only compounded by her intense glare. I had proved myself, time and time again, and she still didn’t have full faith in me.
But that didn’t matter. She needed to be able to trust herself. I should have been proud of those instincts.
“You act like you’re so selfless, but maybe it’s all an act. Maybe you do want to kill me,” she said.
But I couldn’t let that slide.
“If my only goal was to kill you, why would I help you?” I barked. Staying in the clinic, taking her verbal outbursts, those random cheap shots. Going to lectures, waiting for her outside during tutoring. Why go through any of it, ifthatwas my only goal?
“To get me to trust you,” she said.
The words left unsaid burned inside of me, that everything I did was for my own personal gain.
She went up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door shut. I stared up at the ceiling, trying to figure out a way to convince her to be wary of Christine.
The tracking software on her phone could be manipulated. All it would take was a phone call to the right person, and I would be able to read her texts and listen to her calls.
No. The only thing that would make this right, was to be honest. I had kept the second note hidden. So there was truth to it. Zaid ordered me to kill, and I never questioned him. I trusted that these people had committed egregious crimes that couldn’t be undone. More lives would be lost if they were allowed to live.
But was Hazel worthy of that? If Zaid had ordered it, would I have killed her without a second thought?
That didn’t matter now. I couldn’t dwell on the past. I was her personal protector now, her guide to society.
She wasn’t a job. Not like that.
I called Zaid, and it went straight to voicemail. He was likely already on the thru-hike with Heather. I left a message.
“Hey. This arrangement with Hazel,” I paused, trying to gather the right words, “I quit. If you want the money back, I’ll transfer it.” It sounded lame saying it like that, but it was the only thing I could think of to do right then. “Anything I do from here on out is my own decision.”
It was unlikely that Zaid would do anything in retaliation. As long as Hazel was safe, by my means or his, it didn’t matter who took care of her.
I went down the elevator to the street level and walked to the nearest convenience store. I grabbed all of the sour candy I could find: hard, soft, chewy, gum and mints too. Without any question or comment, the cashier bagged all of it in three plastic bags.
I knocked on Hazel’s door, the peace offering in one hand. I wiped my forehead. I should have showered before I faced her. It had been hot outside and I was sweating. But before I could leave, Hazel opened the door. White shorts and a blue tank top that made her eyes deeper, stronger, like she had looked after she hit the stranger with her keys. Shock mixed with pure determination.
I lifted the bags. “These are yours,” I said. She tilted her head, looking at the contents.
“Is that an Extreme Kick?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Can I come in?”
She stepped aside, taking the bags from me. I took a seat in the mauve accent chair to the side of the room. She leafed through the bags, arranging them in piles on her bed.
“You really went all out,” she said. Her phone pinged, but she ignored it. “Thanks.”
