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He doesn’t like leaving his routine, even though he can do it when he needs to, but he has all these little habits and mini routines to help him cope with it. To keep him feeling like he’s in control.
The usual stab of guilt hits me as I think about that.
I know Vic’s issues come from the shit our piece of trash dad did to him when we were younger. Vic got the worst of it, but dear old pops was a monster to all of us.
We all have our own scars from that, and we all would’ve protected each other from those things if we could’ve. I know Vic and Ransom feel guilty that they’re not the ones who went to prison for murdering the bastard, but I wouldn’t have wanted either of them to go in my place.
“Fucking hell,” Ransom says, shoving his door open and getting out with a groan. “You know I love cars, but road trips suck ass.”
Vic and I follow, stretching our legs and working out the kinks in our muscles. I agree with Ransom. It feels good not to be on the road anymore.
Before we can even unload the car, Vic is heading up to his room. I already know he wants to get back to his computer and all his screens, something routine and familiar for him.
Ransom rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck with a little sigh. “I’ve got to get ready to work on that car the Donovan gang is bringing through soon. We probably didn’t lose too much time.”
“Good,” I say. The last thing I want is for other shit we need to do to fall through because we had to fuck around playing X’s errand boys. “When I get back from doing the drop, I’ll give you a hand.”
“Nah, I’m good,” Ransom says. “I’ve got it under control. And if I need help, I’ll drag Vic down from his computers and put a wrench in his hands.”
I snort at that, already picturing the sour look on Vic’s face if it comes to that.
“Help me unload the car first,” I tell Ransom.
Between the two of us, we get all the shit unloaded, piling it into a corner for now.
“Vic’s gonna be pissed if we leave that there, you know,” Ransom warns me as he starts to grab a few tools from the rack on the wall.
“I’ll deal with it when I get back.”
There’s only so far into our home Vic’s influence can spread, and the garage where we do our work is harder to keep in line. Ransom and I have a theory that the reason Vic keeps his room so immaculately organized is to make up for the fact that the rest of the place sometimes falls into chaos.
With a groan, I get back in the car and drive to the drop point. X’s latest task came with instructions to leave the file we stole in a designated spot—somewhere out of the way and remote—so that’s what I do.
When we first started getting jobs from this fucker, Vic did everything he could to track down X’s identity. But he didn’t have any luck. Whoever the hell this mysterious man is, he managed to pull strings to get me released from a thirty year prison sentence after serving only four. On top of that, he has enough resources that he covered his tracks completely.
It’s almost fucking impossible to hide from Vic when he really puts his mind to finding someone, but despite all his hacking skills, he couldn’t figure out who X is.
It eats at me a little, owing something to an unknown person. It makes me feel like I’m still in jail, in a way, even though nothing is as bad as that shit was.
I reach up as I pull to a stop near the drop point, absently rubbing at the scar just below my ear as a phantom pain shoots through my neck. The shiv I was stabbed with never managed to get deep enough to kill me, but the memory of it still makes my stomach clench and my skin feel too tight.
Shaking off memories I’d rather not dwell on, I pull the key out of the ignition and slide out of the car, glancing around as I take in my surroundings. We’ve never gone to the same drop point twice, and just like always, there’s no one here. No hint of X at all.
Just the way he likes it.
I grunt and stride toward the bench with the large metal trash can beside it, surreptitiously dropping the files into the trash can. Then I turn around and head back to the car, done with this shit.
I start driving back to the warehouse we live in, thinking about helping Ransom get set up for the next job or cleaning up the bags in the corner so Vic doesn’t flip out.
But instead, I find myself heading off course, driving toward the campus where Willow goes to school. There’s a feeling in my chest that’s like… fuck, I don’t know what to call it. It’s a want, and it’s tied to Willow, but I figure it’s just me wanting to make sure she didn’t get up to anything she shouldn’t have while we were gone.
It’d be smart to check on her, just to be safe.
Thanks to Vic’s hacking abilities, we all know her entire school schedule, and I reach her campus just before she should be getting out of her midday class. Leaving my car parked in the nearest lot, I scan the building she’s supposed to be in, waiting for her to emerge.
But as the other students come out in a rush of bodies that eventually slows to a trickle, there’s no sign of her.
I narrow my eyes, my shoulders tensing.
