Chapter Seven
“You say Henry and Joel are the only two people you can trust. But you have other people in your life, your mother, father, your sister.”
“It’s not the same with them.”
“Why not?”
“Because I have to hide a part of myself, a big part of myself, around my family. It upsets them too much.”
“And Henry and Joel are different? You don’t have to hide from them?”
“No. They’re just as dark as me.”
“Meaning, you’re all complicit?”
“I told you I didn’t want to talk about that-“
“This is therapy, Jack. Nothing’s off the table. Are you still having the nightmares?”
“They’re different every time. My memories are all jumbled together. I don’t know what’s real, what’s not. Why can’t I just forget it?”
“Trauma leaves an imprint on the brain. It changes its chemistry.”
“It wasn’t my trauma. It was hers. I think.”
*
When they drive into Queens, Amber gawks out of the window, her mouth agape. The streets are buzzing with people and energy, even though it’s nighttime. It gives her a strange high knowing this is where she’ll be living. Jack hunches forward over the steering wheel. Amber has dyed his hair and beard again. This time the color is closer to a natural looking red than orange. His beard is trimmed close to his face. His hair is two inches longer than it is on his wanted poster. He’s bigger, beefier too. Anyone not paying much attention would never realize he’s Jack Larsen.
Amber tries to count the many lies she’s living under, but she quickly loses track. She quit her job at the diner by leaving Victor a voicemail. She told Meg and her father that she’s met a man, Pete Shepherd, and she’s going to stay in New York with him for a while. Meg was excited for her, but her dad was suspicious. He kept asking questions, and Amber kept avoiding them. In the end, his happiness that Amber had a prospect for the future outweighed his apprehension. Amber wondered how long that scale would tip in her favor.
She doesn’t enjoy lying. It makes her feel slimy, dirty. But it’s for a good cause. She can’t tell anyone Jack’s real identity, what she’s really doing. Once they find the killer, and her name is in print, everyone would know the truth. Until then, she’d have to sidestep their questions as well as she could.
The apartment is on the top floor of a three story building. It’s fully furnished, and has a small sitting room, a kitchenette, one bedroom and one bathroom. It’s quaint and comfortable. It feels like a genuine starter apartment that a young couple would rent. Only Amber’s seen the rental prices here. This is no starter apartment. She walks onto the balcony, which is only large enough to fit two people maximum, and tries to forget about the monthly cost of this place. After a few moments, Jack comes out to join her.
“We need to act as normally as possible. Don’t get too close to any of the neighbors,” Jack says. He holds his hand protectively on her lower back.
“We’ve been over this,” Amber says, turning to him. “No one knows you in Queens. You’ll be safe.”
“They could’ve seen me on the news,” Jack grumbles. “It makes me nervous being here, this close to people.”
Amber lays her hand on his bicep in an attempt to console him. But she’s nervous too. One wrong move, someone recognizes him, and poof, everything’s over.
“We’ll be careful.” She wraps her arms around his waist, laying her head against his chest.
How normal we must look, Amber thinks. Just a regular couple, embracing on the balcony. She looks down at the pedestrians on the street below. If they only knew…
*
Jack neglected to tell Joel he was coming back to New York. He knew Joel would only try to talk him out of it. Jack understands the practicality of this, don’t take risks, don’t get caught. But playing it safe isn’t going to get him his life back.
Now that they’ve settled into the new place, Jack decides it’s time to contact Joel. He needs his friend’s help, Joel’s knowledge of the law, and not to mention Joel’s contacts at the NYPD. More than that, he needs as many people he could trust as possible.
Jack calls Joel from Amber’s phone. Before Joel even says hello, Jack blurts out the address. Joel answers him with blunt silence, then quickly hangs up. Jack knows he understands.
Forty-five minutes later, there’s a knock at the door. Jack tells Amber to wait in the bedroom. Joel enters quickly, then closes and locks the door behind him. He stands in shocked silence for a few moments, his boyish face flushed red. Jack figures he ran all the way up the stairs. Joel blinks slowly.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Joel asks. He finally allows himself to look at Jack. His eyes widen as he studies Jack’s muscles. “And what happened to you? You’re massive.”
“It was a nice vacation, but I got sick of it,” Jack says, cockily. Here in the city, with his old friend, he’s feeling more like himself, not the brooding monster frozen in White Oak.
“You have to go back. Now,” Joel says.
“That’s not going to happen,” Jack says. “Sit down, Joel.”
They sit at the table in the sunny breakfast nook. Joel’s face is pale, his shoulders are stiff. He resembles frail glass that threatens to shatter to pieces at any moment.
“You’re risking your life,” Joel says.
“You don’t have to remind me.”
Joel leans forward, cocking his head at him. “Then answer my question, what the fuck are you doing here?”
“I want the truth. Do you have any more details about the investigation?”
“No.” Joel sighs into his hands. “They’re spending all of their resources looking for you. And you came right to their doorstep.”
“I think I was set up.”
“Is that what you think? Come on, Jack, all that time in the wilderness, and you didn’t do any introspection?”
Jack slams his fist on the table between them. “What the fuck are you trying to say?”
Joel fans his arms out. “Look, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so blunt. Why do you think I told you to run? Innocent people don’t run.”
Jack sits back, processing this. He cocks his head, studying Joel, who fidgets under his gaze.
“All this time, you thought I was guilty.”
Joel shrugs. “What can I say, man? Look, you need to go back to White Oak, or somewhere else far off. Start a new life. Be a new person.”
“But I’m not a new person. I’m Jack Larsen. My place is at the head of Larsen International.”
“I’m trying to be a friend, to help you.”
Jack grinds his back teeth, a result of the anger twisting him into knots. He imagines grabbing the back of Joel’s head, and smashing his face into the table. Before he’s able to do that, the bedroom door creaks open.
“Can I come out now?”
Amber appears in the doorframe. She’s nervously playing with the hem of her shirt. Joel jumps from his chair in surprise. He turns to Jack.
“Who is that?”
Jack raises his arm, gesturing for Amber to come closer. When she does, he pulls her into his lap. He enjoys the look of utter confusion on Joel’s face.
“Joel, this is Amber,” Jack says, sweeping her hair away from her neck. He glares at Joel over her shoulder. “I kidnapped her in a diner, held her hostage in the cabin.”
Joel smirks. “Cute story,” he says, then, under his breath, “Fucking idiot.” He opens his legs, and doubles over, putting his head between his knees. “I tried to help you, Jack, but you’re bent on self-destruction.” He stands up slowly, not looking at the two of them. “I can’t help you anymore.”
Joel turns towards the door, but Amber speaks up.
“It was your contact who told you about the cell phone video, correct?” Amber asks.
Joel straightens his back, then turns towards her with a cold stare. “You discussed this with her?” he asks Jack. “How much does she know?”
“It was in the papers,” Amber answers for herself. “Who shot the video?”
Joel stares at her numbly.
“Answer her,” Jack says sternly, even though he’s kissing her upper arm.
Joel exhales, harshly. “The data was scrubbed. It was from an anonymous source.”
“And you’re sure it’s not fake?” Amber presses.
“The police are sure,” Joel says. “Listen, sweetheart, what’s your deal? This guy kidnaps you? You let him fuck you, and what, you think you’re getting a payday out of it? That you’re going to get married and live happily ever after? I’ve known this guy longer than you have, and let me tell you, he’s fucked everything on two legs that’s crossed his path for the past decade. You’re not special.”
“Easy,” Jack warns, his voice rising up behind Amber’s neck.
Amber keeps her face pleasant and easy. Joel doesn’t trust her, but Amber doesn’t trust him either, so there is some common ground here.
“There are ways that data can be uncovered,” Amber says. “Nothing digital is ever lost forever. Ask your contact if they can find out.”
Joel narrows his eyes at her. “What do you want?”
“To help Jack,” Amber shoots back. “Just like you, right? So if you want to help your friend, you’ll do whatever you can to find the real killer.”
Joel’s dark gaze lands on Jack. Mentally, Jack dares him to say it, to say that he knows who the killer is, that he’s looking at him right now. But Joel doesn’t say that, and avoids being punched in the face. Instead, Joel rakes his fingers through his hair, and humbles himself.
“I didn’t mean that, about you being the killer,” Joel says.
“You didn’t?” Jack asks.
“I was just being an asshole.” Joel paces the room, his hands on his hips. “I’m scared for you, man. I almost had a heart attack when you called.”
Jack nods to Amber, signaling her to stand from his lap. She stands near the kitchen counter, studying Joel. Jack leans forward, his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together.
“I’m not going back to White Oak.” Jack’s voice is heavy, final. “I’m staying here. I’m finding the truth, and I’ll face it, no matter what it is.”
Amber slips her arms around Jack’s shoulder, and stands strong next to her man. Joel, seeing the united front before him, concedes.
“If you want to do this, it’s your decision,” Joel says.
“Will you help us?” Jack asks.
After a pause, Joel reluctantly nods. “I’ll do whatever I can. But you have to promise me something. You can’t tell anyone else you’re here. No one, okay?”
As if on cue, there’s a quick knock on the door before it swings open. Amber has to bite her lip to keep from laughing at Joel’s reaction. The slight lawyer jumps nearly a foot in the air, and his face turns bright red. She’s watched Joel’s every move, trying to get a read on him. She decides he’s either steadfastly loyal, or steadfastly slimy. There’s no in between, and she hasn’t decided yet.
Joel glares at Jack with ghoulish exasperation when Henry walks in. Amber knows who he is before being introduced. He’s the person that advised Jack to kill her. But she tries not to hold it against him. She has to admit his advice made sense, and she refuses to let it affect her objectivity. She watches Henry glide into the room. He exudes calm charm, and is incredibly handsome, just like Jack. It’s obvious the two are family.
“Is this the housewarming party?” Henry says, cockily. He beams at Jack, then step towards him. The two exchange hearty handshakes and a quick hug. “I’m glad you’re back, Jack. It’s good to see you.” He gives Joel a quick nod, then turns to Amber. “So this is the little lady.” He steps commandingly towards her, his hand outstretched. Amber shakes it without flinching. Henry eyes her, sizing her up, then nods his approval to Jack.
So, we’re just not going to mention you wanted Jack to kill me, Amber thinks. Fine, I can do that.
Henry turns to Joel with laughing eyes. “Did you hear about how these two got together?”
“I got the Cliff Notes,” Joel grumbles.
“Only Jack could pull that off,” Henry says. One side of his mouth is turned up, and his eyes are gleaming.
Amber assesses her first impression of Henry. He’s blithe and arrogant on first glance, but there has to be more to him than that. She can picture him in backroom meetings, surrounded by men and cigar smoke, discussing his plans for world domination. But at the moment, she could picture Jack doing the same thing. It hits her that these men are from another world, one afforded with enormous amounts of money, a league well above her own. She’d have to fight hard to hold her own around them. Jack trusts them completely, but to Amber, everyone’s a suspect.
Henry makes his way to the kitchen, opens the cabinets, and finds four glasses. He produces a flask from his pocket, and fills each glass with brown liquor. After passing them around, he holds his glass up.
“To Jack Larsen, CEO of Larsen International,” Henry says.
But isn’t your father CEO? Amber thinks as she drinks the whiskey down.
Henry reaches into his jacket pocket, then slips a small package into Jack’s hand. “A welcome home present.”
Amber sees the white powder wrapped in plastic wrap before Jack closes his palm around it. She doesn’t dwell on it. Jack’s told her a little about his past, the nights of constant partying, consuming every drug he could get his hands on. But in White Oak, he’d been cleansed. She didn’t think he’d go back to his old ways, not with so much on the line.
Joel drains his drink, then holds his glass out to Henry to pour him another. “The clock is ticking,” Joel says. “If they find you, it’s over. And they will find you. They have a taste for your blood. Do you know how much you embarrassed them by running?”
Amber steps up to address the room. “We need evidence. Something that exonerates Jack, and points to another suspect. We need that before they find him.”
Henry shoots a glance at Amber, then speaks to Jack. “Whatever you need, I’m here.”
Joel downs his second drink, gasping as it flows down his throat. “Me too, I guess. Just don’t do anything else stupid. Don’t fuck yourself.”
*
Eva doesn’t know what time it is. In this windowless, basement apartment, she never knows what time it is. She sits up slowly from the futon, trying not to move her head too much. The television is on. The flashing lights hurt her sore eyes. She stumbles to the bathroom and wets a rag under the faucet.
I have two states of being, high and hungover, Eva thinks, applying the compress to her forehead.
Eva takes two steps from the bathroom and is already in the kitchen. The apartment is tiny, but in Manhattan, it’s worth a premium. She’d never be able to afford a place like this on her own. Shit, if she was on her own, she doesn’t know where she’d be.
He keeps me locked up in this closet, and only takes me out when he needs me, she thinks. I’m his doll. His toy.
She opens the cabinets and sees they’re fully stocked, though she can’t remember the last time she was at a grocery store.
He’s been here.
The thought sends a jolt down her spine. He was in here while she was passed out on the futon. She takes inventory of her body, checking between her legs. Her underwear is still in place. She doesn’t think he used her last night.
But he hasn’t been by in a while. The rent gets paid, the money appears in her bank account so she stays flush with the drugs of her choice, but she hasn’t seen him for weeks.
Eva hurriedly pours two fingers of vodka and adds a splash of tomato juice. She drinks it down, feeling her hangover subside.
If he’s coming around again, it only means one thing. He’ll need her again, and soon.