Brutal Precious (Lovely Vicious #3) (25 page)

I look away thoughtfully, then back at her, smiling and holding my arm up.

“Well. I did this to myself. It looks like Shark Week in 3D. So I guess we can imagine anything I’d do when angry at someone else would be a lot worse, huh! Probably a lot bloodier, and grosser, and slightly larger chunks would be missing! How awesome is that.”

“N-Not awesome,” Heather swallows.

“Cool! So let’s agree to not make the not-awesome stuff happen, okay?”

She nods frantically, and I hum my way out of the library. This is just the warm-up. Nameless is next. Nameless has been on my list for so long, but only now do I have the strength to start plotting his ultimate demise. Only now do I have the courage to point all my dire expertise and rage at his throat. Now that I know for sure Nameless is wrong - that I’ve always been perfect and worth loving - I can fight him instead of run from him. Jack must be rubbing off on me in more ways than one; the fact I haven’t busted down Nameless’ door and shanked him yet is a clear sign I’ve learned to control my anger like a true Ice Prince. Gasp. The horror.

People say you’re supposed to love yourself on your own. And I tried. God knows I freakin’ tried for four years.

But now that I know someone loves me, it’s so much easier to grow the courage to start loving myself.

It’s not fast, and it isn’t happening all right away.

But it’s a start.

***
 
 

The only dress I brought with me to Ohio State is a green pleated dress I bought for Prom but never wore. I spent Prom at Sophia’s grave, eating cold leftover Chinese food and making flower crowns. Stuff she’ll never get to do. Jack’s in a white button-down shirt and slacks, which suddenly makes me paranoid.

“You look lovely,” He smiles, and I curtsey.

“Does this place happen to be enormously fancy?” I ask. We walk to his sedan, and I bunch my skirts up and settle in the passenger seat with the grace of a drunk hen with huge buttocks.

“Not especially,” He pulls out of the parking lot.

“Will I get kicked out for spilling soup on myself? Because I really enjoy spilling soup on myself, it enhances my overall life experience of being a slob.”

“As long as you don’t scream about aliens, you’ll be fine.”

“What! That is my traditional prayer to the dessert gods!”

He gives me a long look that basically translates to ‘please don’t scream about aliens’.

“Ugh, fine,” I huff. “I’ll pretend to be normal. Just don’t act surprised when I keel over and die of a pulmonary embolism. Cause: sheer boredom.”

He pulls my hand up with his free one and kisses it, smirking.

The restaurant is a small, black-glass building wedged in at the end of main street. Jack opens the door for me and I slip in, the hostess flashing me a brilliant smile and Jack an even more brilliant one. Jack asks for Vanessa’s table, and the hostess leads us through rows of dark-wood tables lit with candles to a booth. A woman with severe, short brown hair and a fancy blue silk dress on sits there, stirring an iced tea. She gets up and makes a weird forced smile as she leans in to hug me.

“It’s been so long!” She laughs, and hugs Jack in turn. We all sit, except my butt is slightly more bewildered than theirs.

“Um. Hello,” I say. “I’m Isis, and also confused.”

“Jack’s told me much about you,” Vanessa smiles. The waiter comes along, and she looks up. “Do you two want something to drink?”

“Water will be fine, thank you,” Jack says, and looks to me. I squirm.

“Um, just a coke would be good.”

The waiter nods, and Vanessa and Jack watch him retreat with eyes so sharp I’m surprised his back doesn’t start bleeding.

“Is he an informant?” Jack asks in a low voice, perusing the menu without looking at Vanessa.

“No,” Vanessa shakes her head. “But he followed me from the hotel, so we should stay alert.”

“Whoa, wait,
that
guy?” I hiss. “He looks way normal.”

Vanessa smiles at me. “The best ones always do. Let’s throw him off with a little boisterous conversation, shall we? How are you doing in school, Isis?”

She raises her voice a little, and I play along and mimic her.

“I’m failing Chem,” I sigh. “I hate it so much – it’s worth than Calc by a thousand times. Also, I farted during the exam, and I’m pretty sure Professor Brown knew it was me because he wrinkled his nose and sniffed a lot and gave me a C- for ‘incorrect exposition’, which is Chem teacher speak for fart, I’m pretty sure.”

Vanessa laughs. “Well at least you know what you’re
not
going to be majoring in, hmm?” Her eyes stay on me, but she lowers her voice and aims it at Jack all in the same breath. “Have you got the recording?”

“I, on the other hand, enjoy Chemistry.” Jack says, his voice louder as well. “But I’d never pursue it as a degree. It gets far more complicated by third year, so I’m thinking of something simpler in the sciences.” His voice lowers again. “It’s on a USB in the napkin.”

Vanessa nods sympathetically. “When I was your age, I switched my major from Biology to Physics. Less icky cells, more clean and clear numbers. Much easier.”

She lurches, dropping her napkin on the floor and wrinkling her nose.

“Oh, damn.”

“Here,” Jack slides his across to her. “Use mine.”

Vanessa smiles and takes it in her lap. “Thank you. Are you ready for mid-terms, Isis?” She continues smoothly.

“Honestly I’m more ready for shrimp scampi,” I point at the menu.

“Of course! You two must be starving. Not that State doesn’t serve good food! On the contrary; I’ve heard they have a wonderful selection.”

“It’s mostly burritos, but I’m not complaining. My intestines do sometimes, though. Speaking of which, I gotta pee. Where’s the –”

Vanessa points towards the back and smiles. “On your left.”

I slide past Jack, who grips my hand and squeezes it.

“You alright?” He asks.

“Uh, I’m about to eat
food
. I’m all sorts of fine.”

He smiles, and lets go, and I start towards the bathroom. I catch a glimpse of our waiter watching me, but when our eyes meet he quickly looks away. Way to be subtle, suspicious guy.

Even the bathrooms are fancy – marble countertops and soap that doesn’t smell like a movie theater’s. I stare at myself in the mirror, my makeup less like a raccoon and more like a cat, and realize I’ve grown up. Not much. But a little.

Not much, but it’s a start.

***

When Isis is gone, I turn to Vanessa.

“She’s very pretty,” Vanessa smiles. “Much prettier than I assumed.”

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. The girl you described on the phone…they normally don’t look like that. Humor comes to the plainer girls easier.”

Her backhanded insult doesn’t faze me. I clear my throat.

“Terrance’s admission is there. He says both their names very clearly.”

Vanessa smiles, looking over her menu intently too, but our focus is everywhere except there.

“An admission from a drug dealer isn’t enough,” she says. “But it’s a good start. This, and direct keylogs should be enough for our team to work with.”

“How are you going to get a keylog on them?” I frown. “Will is wary of me – I’ve tried to approach him multiple times, but he always slips away. Kyle is less smart, but Will’s warned him of me. They both avoid me.”

Vanessa stares at me, hard, and I know enough about her body language now to understand it’s an order to change the subject.

“She and I are going out,” I say quickly. “For several weeks now. She’s my first actual girlfriend in a long time.”

“Ah, that’s right,” Vanessa smiles. “You were always the playboy type.”

“May I take your order?” The waiter comes up behind us, and I grin.

“Yes, thank you. I’ll have an order of the shrimp scampi for the missing lady, and the salmon fillet for myself.”

The waiter nods, eyes scanning our table with a too-focused intensity. Looking for us passing evidence between us, no doubt. I spot a strange bulge in his waistband, expertly hidden but still obvious to me. My gut goes cold. A gun.

I never should’ve brought Isis here.

Vanessa taps her finger on the menu. “And I’ll have the lobster rolls. With the salad. Thank you.”

The waiter nods, taking our menus and briskly walking off.

“He has a gun,” Vanessa says lightly, stirring her tea. I nod, tempering my fear casually.

“In his waistband. I saw.”

“Now how are we going to go about this?” She purses her lips thoughtfully. “I’d rather not get you and your lovely lady friend hurt tonight. You are children, and she especially is an innocent civilian.”

“Who is he really?”

“I have no idea, but I can make an educated guess. His stance, the way he carries himself and walks - military trained. His accent is invisible, but his pronunciation and emphasis is clearly of an English-speaking Russian. I was born in Russia. I know it well.”

“Russian, then.”

“Specifically, hired muscle,” She elaborates. “The Gatekeepers may be a hacker group, but they have friends with a lot of money, and they no doubt learned we’re after them. It seems they’ve hired bodyguards for their members, Will and Kyle included.”

I almost laugh, but stop myself. “It’s so surreal – bodyguards for hackers? Royalty, maybe, or politicians. Not hackers.”

“You misunderstand,” Vanessa says quickly. “The moment serious goods come into the picture – meth, heroin, human trafficking – is the moment everything changes. There is huge money in drugs and people, and therefore huge stakes. Those bodyguards are there to protect Will and Kyle’s hacking ability, and therefore, the money. Drug and trafficking money funds seventy percent of all weapon purchases on the legal and illegal markets. It isn’t simply ‘hackers’, or ‘drugs’. It is power, and acquirement of it. Rebellions are funded. Gangs are formed. It is a vast and intricate web – by stopping these two boys, we will save many innocent lives.”

“No, you won’t. They’ll just turn to someone else. There are hundreds more like them.”

“Then we take down hundreds of them. One at a time.”

Vanessa’s voice is hard, so I drop the subject. Her attitude is very government – inevitable defeat wrapped in the illusion of doing the greater good.

“How do you propose I get the keylog onto their computers?” I murmur. “They won’t let me physically near them.”

“Then you must find someone they do let near them. Kyle is of least concern. Will is the major proponent. Key his computer, and we’ll have all the evidence we need to convict both of them. Didn’t you say Isis knows him?”

“No,” I say firmly. “Absolutely not.”

“She seems like a bright girl. I’m sure she’d do it if you asked. She seems to love you very much.”

“And that’s exactly why I won’t let her,” I grit my teeth.

“Let me do what?” Isis is back, sliding past me into her seat. “Were you two gossiping about me while I was gone? Ten million years dungeon for the both of you.”

I’m quiet, as is Vanessa. Isis, ever allergic to silence, squirms.

“I’m serious! What were you two talking about with me in it?”

“It’s nothi-”

“We need someone to plant a device on Will Cavanaugh’s computer in order to gather enough data to arrest him,” Vanessa leans in. “And I heard from Jack you know Will.”

I expect Isis’s expression to flicker with discomfort and pain, but instead she lifts her chin.

“I do. I hate him.”

Vanessa smiles. “Fabulous. Then I’m sure you want to see him arrested even more than we do.”

“Or killed,” She says lightly. Too lightly. So lightly it’s frightening. “I’m not picky.”

Vanessa smiles wider. Isis cocks her head as if thinking.

“You’re with the government, right?” She asks.

“Yes.”

“Isis, you’re not doing this,” I say firmly. She smiles at me.

“The only thing I’m doing is eating my shrimp scampi and then maybe possibly dessert. Oh, shit, here comes the waiter, everybody pretend to be cool. Except me, because I am already cool.” Isis digs her phone out of her purse and hands it to Vanessa. “Here’s the pictures of me at graduation. I’m the tall, sexy one in the back.”

Vanessa laughs, flipping through the phone. The waiter drops our food off, and leaves. We eat, carrying on a false conversation that leaves me uneasy for some reason. Vanessa is being far too kind to Isis. I won’t allow her to drag Isis into something that might get her hurt, or worse. Facing down Will Cavanaugh is for me and me alone, not her. I realized my mistake by bringing her here, in the direct line of fire.

Now that I have her, I’m never going to lose her again.

Dinner ends, and Isis orders apple pie. Vanessa pays our bill, and smiles at me.

“I really need to get going. You two stay and have fun a little longer.”