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CHAPTER ONE
RILEY
This area wasn’t like the others. Not a trailer park in sight. “We’re going to have to step up our game,” I told Mom from inside the swanky grocery store where we had stopped to pick up a few things. We moved around a lot.
Based on the wary glances from the patrons, I would have to assume an identity other than the goth one I was sporting.
“This is the last of our money.” Mom swept her gaze around the high-end market. “I’m going to go out and get a real job this time.”
She seemed excited about this town and the opportunity she’d yet to share. I was going along with it. Maybe California would be fun. It was the first time we’d been in this state, and I might as well make the best of the weather and scope out places with the potential for cliff diving—my favorite pastime. It had never been something I could pursue publicly. No teams. I knew never to draw attention to myself from the media, either print or social.
I picked up an avocado, eyeing the price. These were expensive compared to where we usually shopped. I was almost afraid to touch anything. “Mom.” I called her over from where she was putting four apples into the basket slung over her arm.
She glanced back at me and winked. Her hair, dyed chestnut with chunky blond highlights, was piled on top of her head in a messy bun. Animal-print heels, a matching blouse, and tight jeans completed her Jersey look. “We’re getting the essentials. Grab four avocados, some spinach, and tomatoes. I’ll get the bread, broccoli, and some chicken. Meet you at checkout.”
I went for the giant avocados, gently squeezing to test their level of firmness until I found the perfect give against the skin. I selected four tomatoes before plucking a bag of baby spinach from an open refrigerated shelf. Juggling the produce, I made my way toward the front of the store, balancing everything in my arms while observing the other customers with their preppy, expensive clothes, jewelry, and natural makeup. On the other hand, I wore a black long-sleeved shirt with DIY holes strategically added, thick, black liner that extended into wings, and almost-black lipstick. My dyed-black hair was piled on top of my head. Chunky silver adorned every finger, and a black leather band with silver studs nestled comfortably on my wrist. Doc Martin–style boots completed the outfit. I looked dangerous with a side of “don’t fuck with me” that had served me well at the last high school I’d attended for a portion of my sophomore year.
No one had batted an eye at the goth emo chick I’d become to blend in at the gang-ridden town. It was very different here, and I was drawing too much attention. I noted the styles worn and would change everything soon, before the start of my junior year.
It was the middle of summer. I had time to make the necessary adjustments. My natural auburn hair would fit in perfectly. I hadn’t done the natural Riley look in years. Usually, Mom and I dyed our hair with each new town we planned to hit. This dye job was temporary, but it would take weeks until it was entirely out of my long strands. Returning to what I actually looked like would be an unusual and refreshing change.
We opted for the self-checkout. I bagged as she scanned. After we paid for our groceries, we walked to Mom’s car. It wasn’t in terrible condition, even though the Mustang had seen better days. My ride was back at the rental. We’d made do with one car for a long time, but when I turned sixteen, Uncle Ronan made sure I had wheels. It was a sweet midnight-blue Dodge Charger that he’d given me for my birthday, souped up to compete in NASCAR, if I had been into that sort of thing.
Once in the passenger seat, I turned to Mom, who was practically vibrating with energy. Something was up. “Why are we here? And what’s with the real job?”
We ran cons. That was what we had always done. So it had come as a shock when she said she was going legit. I couldn’t help but look at her as if she were someone I didn’t know, not my best friend and partner in the lifestyle we’d always lived.
“Nothing’s up. I have a good feeling about this place. If things work out with the job, I think it’s somewhere we can stay. Besides, you’re already a junior. I want you to be able to go to college. This high school is a good one. It’ll ensure you can get into whatever college you want.”
We pulled onto our street as dusk was settling. The house wasn’t on the edge of town this time or even in a run-down trailer park. It was in the middle of Santa Monica. And it wasn’t our usual falling-down, looks-like-a-crack-house kind of place. The outside had a few minor issues because of lack of upkeep, but I didn’t care. This rental was a brick duplex. It had shutters and high ceilings, and instead of sharing a room with Mom, I had my own.
The furniture was the bare minimum, but that was okay. We could find stuff if we were staying here for a while. The longest we’d been in any place was a year. Then things either went south, or Mom got nervous and itchy to move, so we had.
“What kind of job are you thinking about?” She’d worked before, but it was always to get close to her mark. I had assumed this would be the same type of situation.
“A large law firm is hiring personal assistants for some of the partners. The pay and benefits are fantastic.”
“What about the partners?” I put the tomatoes and avocados in a shallow bowl on the island while she put the apples and spinach in the fridge. “Are you targeting one of them?”
A big grin spread across her face, and her eyes sparkled with excitement—and was that joy? I leaned against the counter, confused by the entire situation. Where was the plan? The details about the people I had to get close to, gaining their trust and, ultimately, inside information that would help Mom with the score.
We hadn’t talked about any of that yet. Granted, we’d mainly communicated over speakerphones as we drove our cars to Santa Monica. Mom had mostly spoken about my diving and joining the school team. She thought I could get an athletic scholarship. But that meant attention and possible write-ups in the paper, right? I wasn’t sure. I knew I had to fly under the radar, so what was with the change in attitude?
“No, I’m not targeting anyone. I know one of the partners, the owner, from a long time ago. It’s just a great opportunity for both of us, where we can be ourselves in public.”
“That’s a first. I’m not sure I know how to do that.”
“Right?” Mom’s infectious, throaty laughter filled the kitchen. “It’s been a long time for me too. But it’s a fresh start, where you can make friends and do the things you haven’t been able to do before. I mean it, Riles.” She grabbed both my hands. “Things will be different this time.”
It was nice to see her so carefree for the first time in… forever. No matter where we’d been, she’d had one eye over her shoulder, watching for disaster to strike. My mind filled with an image of her face, bruised and beaten, and I barely suppressed a shudder of fear. What had changed that made her feel safe? Because according to her, we never were.
Eventually, I would get to the bottom of what she was up to, if only to make sure she wasn’t deluding herself into thinking this false utopia would protect us instead of leaving her—both of us—vulnerable to attack.
Something was up, but I kept that to myself. If Mom thought she could keep secrets from me, she was wrong. Raelyn may have started the game, but I’d perfected it.
CHAPTER TWO
COLE
