Come Back
I say nothing.
“Is it back in the OC? Just let me know what direction to head, Harper. Because people are gonna die.” He lets out a long breath. “What you have is very important.”
“Important to who? My father? You’re working for him, aren’t you?”
“Do you think this is over? Do you think one twice-dead assassin changes their game? You’ve been playing for years, so let’s cut the shit. You and Nick are doing something. You two managed to get the upper hand and that’s why you’ve been left alone this past year. But they made their move today, Harper. Game starts now. We’re outta here in ten minutes and we’re heading west.”
Chapter Fifteen - James
“Every room has a box, Harper. Check each one, pull out anything we might need, and pack it in the back of the Hummer.” She nods and walks off so I take my attention back to Sasha. “You, come with me.” I walk down the hallway and wave her into the bathroom. “Take a seat.”
Sasha sits on the toilet lid while I grab a t-shirt from the bedroom. I go back to the bathroom and shuffle through the first-aid kit from under the sink. I grab some antibacterial gel, some bandages, and then turn the hot water on and grab a washcloth off the rack on the wall. I start with her legs and wipe them down. She has a lot of tears but no sobs. And that is just sad. I move on to her arms after I finish her legs. Then her face. I get a new washcloth for her face, there’s so much blood. “You’re gonna be really sore, but you’re OK. So try not to think about it.” I look her in the eyes as I wipe her forehead. “Can you do that?”
She swallows hard and nods, her eyes never leaving mine. “I’ve been trying not to think about it for months now, James.”
“I know. And you’re doing a really good job.”
Her chin quivers for a moment, but she gets it in check before she loses control.
“And I know you have a secret. And no amount of asking or demanding is gonna make you give it up before it’s time. So I’ll drop it. But I need to know, kid. Are we working for the same guy or not? Because you seem to have a lot of information about me and I seem to have none about you.”
She turns her head away, looking at the blue shower curtain. “I think we are on the same side. Is that good enough?”
The relief I feel at not having to kill this child is almost overpowering. I smack her on the knee and she cries out with a wince. “You can wash up properly when we get to the next safe place.” I dab the antibacterial gel on her wounds. “But this should get you through.”
There’s a gash on her thigh from the bike wreck that needs a bandage, so I fasten one of those on her and then wash my hands.
“James?” she asks quietly as she waits.
“What?” I say as I pack up all the crap and stuff it back into the box.
“If I have to stay with you until this is over, then can you please…”
“Can I please what?” I open the door and wave her forward. The screen door smacks against the house as Harper loads up the Hummer. “If you’ve got something on your mind, spit it out.”
She stares up at me with those blue eyes and she looks eight or ten instead of thirteen. So f**king young. Too f**king young to be doing this shit.
“Can you make sure if I die, then I don’t die for nothing?”
I turn her around and push her towards the kitchen before she sees my reaction. Because nothing… nothing prepares you for words like that coming from a kid’s mouth. “Look, Smurfette,” I say, playing the ass**le role. “You work for me now. So there’s no checking out on my dime. You wanna get yourself killed, then you do it on someone else’s time. You got it?”
She nods and keeps walking in front of me. But I catch her wiping tears as she fishes a pair of sneakers out of her backpack and slips them on. I wait patiently as she meticulously laces them up, and then we leave the house, pulling the door closed behind us. Harper’s in the passenger seat, waiting for us. I open the back door for Sasha, and she climbs in and buckles her seatbelt. “You get everything we need?” I ask Harper as I close the door. I catch a nod from her as I walk around to my side, then get in and start the engine.
“Where are we going now?” Harper asks.
“Merc’s got a place in Palm Springs. He’s not there at the moment, so we’ll hole up there today and decide what the f**k we’re gonna do.” Someone did this to the kid and someone absolutely is setting me up. I need this drive to think about it. I need time to put these pieces together. Because this is all wrong. None of this shit is adding up. We had a plan, this… thing this morning was not in the plan.
I get silence from both girls. So I just flip a bitch in the front yard and head on out, taking the back roads into California, then crossing over Interstate 15 into the Mojave National Preserve.
“Turn off your phones and give them to me.” I wait as the girls shuffle through pockets and then three phones are presented in my waiting hand. I chuck them all out the window, then fish mine out of my pocket and do the same. The girls turn around to watch them disappear as I buzz the window back up.
The dash thermometer says it’s a hundred and fourteen degrees outside, but inside we’re all cold and it’s got nothing to do with the air conditioning.
We’re killers. And isn’t that what they always say about us? Cold-blooded?
Like the lizards scurrying across the sand-covered highway.