“Sure,” he said. “What’s that?”
“Park outside the building, and I need you to go in and get someone for me.”
“Who?”
“Anyone in apartment 737.”
He turned on the road that would get us to the parking lot. “Isn’t there a security guard?”
“She won’t even notice. Just smile and walk to the elevator like you belong there. Anyway, go up to 737, and then whoever answers, tell them Bambi is outside.”
“What?”
“They’ll know who it is. If they don’t believe you, tell them the first time I ever met them, Marc was working at the pretzel stand.”
Avery scratched at his scalp through his thick dark hair. “Geez. A lot to remember.”
“Can you do it?”
“Yeah, I can do it.” He pulled up to the curb in front of the building and parked, leaving the car running.
I slid down, not wanting to be spotted in case the place was being watched. “I’ll wait here.”
“Hang on,” he said. “I don’t like you out here alone. You got kidnapped once already.”
“Where’s your knife?”
He pulled it out of his pocket and passed it off. I took it, testing how it opened.
He scanned the parking lot. “I still don’t like it.”
“Just hurry. If anyone can help, those guys upstairs can. Get them and then we need to get away from here.”
“So we have to kidnap one of them because someone stole you? Should probably call the police,” he said. “Or the FBI.” He opened his door. From my angle on the floor, I caught his angled chin and what I thought was a sharpness in his eyes. He was sober now, and on the alert. His lean body was hard, too. He looked like a slacker, but underneath that stoner exterior was a hardworking guy. “Leaving my keys. Drive off if you have to.” He made sure to lock the doors and left.
My heart soared for a minute as he closed the door. Avery was awesome. Why didn’t I pay attention to him in high school? I picked up my head to watch him walk into the building. He was wearing cargo shorts and a loose-fitting Hawaiian shirt, partially open. I tried to imagine him at fifteen or so, about the age I would have been in tenth grade. Maybe he had grown taller. Or I didn’t recognize him with the beard on his chin.
I shrugged it off. If a guy didn’t plant himself in front of me, I usually didn’t notice him. That was probably my problem in high school. I never noticed the quiet ones. To be honest, I barely remembered names and faces from any of my classes. I could probably pass by a teacher on the street and not recognize him.
I counted off minutes, hoping someone was home. Please, please, someone. Brandon was out there all tied up. He’d gotten zapped again. Would they keep doing that? Would they beat him up? Use torture?
Brandon said he’d die before helping them. I was worried he might be enough of an idiot to do just that before I had a chance to get to him.
The moment of quiet waiting was hard. With Avery there, I had things to distract me that were immediate. Now all I could see was Brandon’s face as he’d pleaded with me to escape. Emotions welled up, and my throat thickened as I held back tears. Every blink, all I saw was his sad blue eyes. Brandon saved me, and lied and stayed with the German to give me time to escape.
Stupid Brandon. If he ended up dead, I’d never forgive myself for not staying with him.
The sky was cloudy, with the moon playing peekaboo between clouds. The streets were quiet, the streetlamps lit up, and casting yellow light, letting me see shadows in the car. On other nights, I might have felt safe being back at the Sergeant Jasper. Tonight, it was uncomfortable. Who knew who was watching? I sniffed, wiping at my face to make sure the tears were gone. I could suffer and feel guilty later. Focus was what I needed now. Save Brandon. Find him and save him.
Voices outside startled me. I popped my head up, checking to make sure they weren’t here to kidnap me again. I had the knife ready. I clutched the cell phone.
The sound of a key in the lock made me hesitate. The door opened and Marc filled the space, staring in after me. His dark hair was messed up, like he’d just rolled out of bed. He had on a black tank shirt and jeans. His mismatched eyes, one blue, one green, stared hard, like he needed a good look before he believed it was me. At first he appeared confused, with his eyebrows scrunched. That morphed into recognizing me and then a barrel of silent questions spilled out between us. I imagined he was trying to figure out what I was up to, like I’d planned this.
God, he was beautiful.
I finally thought I’d be okay, which was something I hadn’t been sure about until that moment. Marc would know what to do. We could save Brandon.
He leaned back, looking at Avery behind him. “You gave her a knife?” he asked.
“Marc!” I cried out, jumping into action. I closed the knife and dropped it into the driver’s seat and then grabbed his arm, tugging. “Get in. Hurry.”
“What?”
“Come on, get in! We have to go. We can’t stay here.”
Marc’s mouth hung open, his eyes sweeping over me. He reached out and traced a finger across my chin, causing pain from a scrape I’d forgotten about. “What happened to you?”
Avery hurried around the car, opening his door. He grabbed his knife, put it into his pocket, and then sat down. “Dude, she said we have to go.”
Marc twisted his lips and got in, slamming the door closed. He turned his body, and his shoulders rounded out and it was like he filled the whole space. His hard stare made me feel safe and I feared his anger at the same time, even if that anger wasn’t directed at me. I sensed he was fully aware there was danger and he didn’t like not knowing. I’d seen that look on him before, when he’d discovered a bruise on my face and had then proclaimed he’d save me from ever getting hurt by my father again. As he spoke now, his voice rose in volume, and deepened at the end of every comment. “Are you in boxers? Where’s your shoes? Are you drunk? What the hell is going on?”
“Avery,” I said. I leaned over and nudged his shoulder. “Drive off. Anywhere. Circle the city.”
“Bambi,” Marc snapped. He snagged my arm that had reached for Avery and held it in a firm grip. “Talk to me. Don’t just tell him to drive without thinking. What’s going on? Someone’s chasing you?”
Avery took off from the curb. “It’s like I was trying to tell you on the way down. She was kidnapped, man. They kidnapped the other dude. They might be coming back for her. So we had to kidnap you. It’s complicated.”
Marc’s eyebrows squished together, causing a wrinkle between them. “Back up a minute. What? Who do they have?”
I began explaining, starting from when I was asleep and Brandon and I were attacked, all the way to where they disappeared down the road with Brandon in the back seat. “But they still think he’s Corey.”
“Holy shit,” Marc said, his mouth slack for a moment. Then his entire composure changed. “Adrien,” he barked.
“Avery,” Avery barked back.
“Sorry. Avery. Drive to...” Marc took out his cell phone. He started typing into it. “You know the fountain downtown?”
“The pineapple? Who doesn’t?”
“Head there.”
“If you say so.”
Marc typed at his cell phone. He looked up at me, his mismatched eyes darkened, studying me. His hand went out, touching my chin.
His touch stung as he brushed his finger along the scrape. I pulled back, smacking his hand. “Don’t worry about me. We have to g
o get Brandon.”
“Do you need a doctor? Anything else hurt?”
I felt scraped everywhere, and bruises, and I was sure to be sore later. It didn’t matter to me right now. I’d take some Tylenol later and call it a day. Brandon first. “I said don’t worry about me. Brandon might get killed. They’re after this...core thing. They called it Murdock’s Core. They wanted Corey to get access to it. They’ll probably kill him or use him to get Corey to do what they want if they find out he’s not the real Corey. We’ve got to get him away before they find out they’ve got the wrong one.”
“On it,” he said, showing me his phone. He’d sent a text to Axel. The texts were innocent enough. Let’s all eat pineapple salad. Bring enough for a girl who loves to eat. She needs new summer clothes, too. We should take her shopping.
I’m guessing this was code for meeting at the pineapple and that I needed clothes. I was wondering why he was using code at all. Did he suspect these guys were listening in?
“What supplies? What can we do? Can you find what this guy wants? This core? If we can get Corey to get them access to it...”
“We need to evaluate these guys and see just how dangerous they are.”
“I know, but maybe we can make a trade and then...”
Marc brushed a fingertip along his eyebrow. “They said the owner of the core was dead. It could be they killed him. If that’s the case, we’re going to have to be careful. This isn’t like we give them what they want and expect them to behave. And we don’t know if what they want is going to lead to more deaths, or worse.”
The German didn’t specify why he wanted this core. I still didn’t even know what it was. I imagined it was some sort of hacker thing that made money or was valuable and they could sell it. I mean, why go through the trouble without it being worth a lot of money? Still, it seemed like they went through a lot of trouble to get to us when there had to be easier ways of getting what they wanted. Brandon said they could get hackers to get what they want. But the German wanted Corey specifically. I wondered why.