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Somehow, as if being able to sense in the rare time my friend’s actually quiet, Madison’s head sharply rotates. Her disapproval made that much more known.
A peep of a noise slips past Hailey’s lips, giving her away.
Finn, whose focus has been on the murals, catches on hearing her cry and tucks her underneath his arm. He shoots Madison a dirty sneer in the process.
I’ll give him that, my brother’s never been shy about letting it be known when he disapproves of someone. A shiver skates down my shoulder. I should know.
Off in the distance, I hear a snort, and I swear it’s from Cole. Who else in the midst of chaos and illegal activities would find humor in this?
“What are we looking for again?” Madison asks minutes later. Hopefully, we’re almost there—wherever we’re headed—because this is taking forever. Who knew this place had such a large underground safekeep?
“Anything that has to do with my father, my last name, or Hardin,” Cole says, voice dominant as it always is.
“Right, let’s pretend that’s helpful,” she snorts.
I don’t have to see her face to know that ever-present foul expression is very much present. It’s never not.
“Can you narrow it down at all?”
“Not unless you know the specifics of what my father was asking your father to get him into? Then nope.” Cole’s help is artificial.
“Alright well, I guess we’ll start with personal. Any business withholdings we like to keep in a separate area.”
This place is even bigger?
Typing in a code, she steps back as the vault’s gears start to grind, clicking as each lock releases itself from its hold. The door unhinges itself and pops open.
All of us step inside through the weighted circular opening, staring at walls of metal boxes. I would hope they aren’t all full, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they are.
“I can’t believe we’re in the room that holds everyone’s personal holdings in the entire bank,” Hailey says with awe.
Madison smirks and for once it actually seems nonthreatening. “Don’t. Because this is only for the Kellets. The Caspers have a similar-sized one down the hall.”
If you’d taken me here months ago, I’d have had more of a reaction. I know these families now and understand money has no bounds with them.
How many personal belongings did one person need?
“You wouldn’t understand this because you’re new money,” Madison announces when no one asks. The old her back in full force within seconds. “But rich people tend to have a lot of assets and like to keep them protected.”
“That comment was uncalled for, but so would me secretly hoping you swallow a tooth, and it bites you in the ass later,” Finn taunts savagely.
“It’s not a secret if you share it.”
“For once, Madison, that’s correct.” Finn’s tone is as dry as her need for approval.
“Technically, is what we’re doing illegal if we’re in the vault with the person who also has the same last name?” Eli wonders, no doubt attempting to break up the tension.
“It’s after hours, and I’m not a deposit attendant so, yeah. It’s illegal.” Her emphasis on illegal more hostile than the question itself.
More conversation happens but my focus zones in on Iceman and how he’s been skimming each metal box. For what, I’m not sure exactly.
I doubt he even knows what he’s looking for, but Cole’s never one to go to battle without an idea of what he’s up against. I notice how he studies every last inch of the place.
Inconsistencies, missing or rearranged numbers on the outside of each box, a smudge, doesn’t matter. Whatever’s in here, Cole wants as much as his father.
Being here is a clue or an answer, or at the very least, a jumping-off point. The start of a solution to what happened with their holdings at Hardin.
“Do you have the keys to get into them?” I ask, spotting the keyhole below the numbers.
