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But they’re both as resigned to it as I am, because I’m right. We don’t have another option.
“How many jobs is it worth, do you think?” Ransom asks, glancing over at Malice. “The favor X did for you?”
Malice growls under his breath. “I dunno. It’s been years already. If I’d known it was going to be this big of a pain in the dick, I’d have just stayed in jail.”
“No, you wouldn’t have,” I tell him. “We wouldn’t have let you make that choice. It’s better that you’re out here with us, no matter how long it takes us to repay the debt.”
He glares at me, and I just stare back at him. Whatever twin connection we have, I know it allows him to read my expression even when other people might not be able to, so I know he can tell how deeply I mean those words. After a moment, the harsh lines of his face relax a little, and he swallows and nods.
“It’s still fucking bullshit,” he mutters bitterly.
“Yeah, it is,” I agree. “We’ve paid him back at least two-fold by now, but…”
I trail off with a shrug. It’s been four years since X got Malice out of jail, and just under four years since we did our first job for him. He’s only ever communicated with us via encrypted messages that I’ve never been able to trace, and we all hope that one day he’ll consider our debt repaid and stop contacting us, but it hasn’t happened yet.
X has the power to send Malice back to prison if he wants to. He’s the one who pulled strings behind the scenes to get our brother out of what should’ve been a thirty-year sentence decades early, and he could take it all back if he decides we aren’t doing what he wants well enough.
He holds all the cards, so we do whatever he asks.
Whether we want to or not.
“Anyway,” Ransom says, getting us back on track. “Philly?”
“Yes,” I tell him. “I have a location, and I can get the exact coordinates for us.”
“We’ll have to drive up there, since flying leaves too much of a paper trail—plus, we’ll probably need to bring equipment. So that’s two days, there and back.” Ransom holds up one hand, ticking things off on his fingers. “Prep for the job, carrying it all out… that’s another couple of days.” He glances sidelong at Malice. “We’ll have to leave Willow alone while we do the job.”
“I fucking know how it works, Ransom,” Malice snaps. “It’s not like we can drag her up there with us.”
“Do we trust her enough to do that?” I ask. “To leave her without us watching her for a few days?”
“What’s the alternative?” Malice asks, shaking his head in frustration.
“We still have the cameras, at least,” Ransom points out, always the one to try to look on the bright side. “Vic can watch her from the road whenever he has time. It won’t be the same as when we’re here, but he can at least keep tabs on things a bit.”
“Yeah.” Malice purses his lips, staring at the car parts on the floor, although I get the sense that he’s not really seeing them. “I guess that will have to be enough.”
12
WILLOW
Gettingoff the bus to head to campus in new clothes feels… weird.
Not in a bad way, just in the way that I haven’t bought new clothes for myself in a long time. I was making do with clothes that were threadbare and stained and worn out because that’s all I had.
Even buying these clothes for myself felt like a luxury. For a while, I barely touched the money that appeared like magic in my account. I think a part of me was afraid that it was going to disappear overnight, or that it was some kind of trap that would spring the second I let myself buy anything with it. But the longer it sat there, untouched, the harder it was to ignore, and eventually I gave in and let myself use it, just a little.
In a way, it’s like taking a tiny bit of my power back. I have no control over the men invading my life, but at least I can better my own situation as long as it lasts.
That’s something.
When I walk past the quad where most of the students are gathered between classes, April and her usual group are there, holding court. One of her flunkies notices me and whispers something in April’s ear, making her turn to look at me. Her gaze flashes over me quickly and then slower, taking me in from head to toe and then back again.
“Wow,” she says. “You look good in that skirt.”
I can tell she doesn’t mean it, but I don’t feel like getting into shit with her today, so I just keep walking, ignoring her entirely.
“Huh. New clothes for Willow,” she continues, raising her voice enough that I can still hear her even as I stride away. “I wonder how she got the money to afford stuff like that.”
