Campbell (15 page)

“Do you think it’s a good idea to call home?” Tal said curiously. “Especially in your case?”

Zoey. She hadn’t thought about Zoey at all since she’d woken up, and now that her memory had been jogged she felt like she’d been punched in the gut. She needed some quiet time to strategize. In the last two weeks, everything had been turned on its head.
 

“No. It’s not,” she said quietly. “You’re right. It’s hard to say who is there, and what’s changed.”

“I guess you have a rat.”

She glared at him as she parked the car. “No kidding.”

They checked in under the names Laura Black and Tyler Wood, which Lucy made up off the top of her head. No one asked for ID. The hotel, formerly part of the Day’s Inn chain but now run by some seemingly industrious kid who offered the rooms up hourly, was mostly shut down due to a lack of demand, save for one floor, which, much to Lucy’s chagrin, only had one room with one king-sized bed available for the whole night. If they’d wanted to switch rooms a few times, they could have had two queens, but she knew that was ridiculous, despite her intimacy issues.
 

***

Tal was very curious as to why the two queen-sized beds were more popular than the king. He mentioned it several times, but the girl checking them in seemed to have no idea. Lucy forked over the money and grumbled to herself so quietly that Tal couldn’t understand what she was grumpy about as they took their small heap of newly purchased and borrowed belongings up two flights of stairs and let themselves into their room for the night.

They were both surprised that it was as clean as it was, considering the exterior of the building and the girl that had checked them in. It wasn’t an unpleasant place, with pale blue walls and yellow bedding in the form of a handmade quilt. There was soap in the bathroom and some full-sized bottles of shampoo and conditioner in the shower. Tal sat down on the bed, which was firm, but bearable. He didn’t realize how exhausted he was until he put his head down on the pillow while Lucy spent the better part of an hour in the shower.

He had the feeling she was crying from the tiny noises he heard over the gushing water, but he didn’t figure she was looking for his reassurance. It felt strange to him to ignore her, perhaps because he’d spent a lot of time comforting Leah, often with disastrous results. Comforting Lucy Campbell would likely be like trying to assuage snakes in a pit, he imagined.
 

Tal wasn’t much of an opportunist, he decided, realizing that in a few hours he’d be sharing a bed with the most powerful women he’d ever met. She was beautiful, and smart, and the idea of anything scandalous happening between them felt repugnant in a way. He’d killed three people earlier that day, and not just simply with a gun. He flashed to blow after blow, which he’d disconnected from at the time, but were now playing in his head. Crack. Brain matter. Blood. Dead eyes. Over and over again. He let himself feel it all in a way he hadn’t while it was taking place. He absorbed the nausea and disgust, and did his best to justify his actions to himself. He’d done what he’d had to do.

“Shower’s free,” Lucy said, derailing his train of thought. She frowned at him in the door in a long white bathrobe tugged tightly around her, her exposed skin scrubbed and red. “I left you a towel.”

“Thanks,” he said quietly, as he looked at her thoughtfully in the hopes of understanding her a little better. He knew there was something about her that appealed to a lot of people, beyond her great breasts and rare smile. He felt it, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever feel clean after that,” he said absently, as he walked into the steamy, soapy-scented room.

Her hand clamped down on his shoulder and gave a firm, reassuring squeeze. He turned around and she looked at him with a wise expression far beyond her twenty-something years, and full of empathy. “You just feel cleaner. Never clean like you were before.”

“I’ll be okay,” he said resolutely. “I will be.”

“You will be,” she nodded back, her mouth turning up into a small grin. “And you’ll be better for it, because that’s how good people come to terms with the bad things they’ve done.”

Her hand dropped from his shoulder and crossed over her body once again, and if two people ever had a first moment of camaraderie, he thought that that was it for them.

“I’ll see you…when I’m cleaner,” Tal murmured, giving Lucy a slight nod. “And we’ll get some sleep.”

“Rest. I’m not sure how much sleeping I’ll do.” She sat on the bed with a sigh. “I mean, we might be safe here, but I can’t get dragged off again. I hurt all over. And we don’t have any weapons.”

Tal hadn’t considered that, but it was just as likely here as it had been in Campbell; possibly more so. The only advantage they had here was that they’d killed their captors and done their best to be anonymous in town.
 

Except they’d parked their car out front.

“We should lose the car,” Tal decided. “Maybe tonight.”

“It’s got enough gas in it that it would go up in flames pretty well, but I think we drive it some more, then torch it. For tonight, we’ll go move it when you’re done in the shower—”

“I don’t think we should split up,” Tal interrupted. “Not until we know what’s going on.”

He had no illusions about his ability to survive on his own. It would diminish significantly without Lucy around. He was sure of that. He didn’t like being alone on a good day.
 

“Agreed,” she said with a nod. “Unless you’re part of some grand scheme to dethrone me.”

He chuckled. “Don’t give me too much credit. I’m second of a half-rate region. Do you think people were so paranoid before? Like our parents’ generation?”

“Nope,” she said, shaking her head. “And look where that got them.”

The shower was good. Necessary. He scrubbed his hands until they were sore, and when he was as clean as possible, he sat on the edge and let the hot water wash over him for a little while longer. Since his family had died, Tal rarely felt the need to speak with God, but there, alone, he felt an almost undeniable need to repent in some form, to express remorse for what he’d done, not because of the end result, but because it was necessary, and he wished it hadn’t been. A number of prayers from his childhood, the kind that were stuck in one’s head for their entire life even if it had been years since properly recited, came to mind, and he found some comfort in that: the idea that even though he knew he’d strayed far from his faith, there were parts of it still in him. No matter how long-ignored, they were still very real. There was always room for forgiveness in his faith. That was something he remembered absolutely.
 

He left the shower feeling cleaner in every way.
 

Lucy and Tal moved the car a ten minute walk down the road and parked it in front of an abandoned farmhouse. It was dusk and the building loomed dark against the grey sky. They locked the doors and walked back together in silence, their arms bumping against each other now and then. They entered at the rear of the hotel, avoiding the kid at the front desk in the hopes that if anyone asked about them he’d mention that they left and hadn’t returned.
 

Once back in their room, Tal shoved the dresser in front of the locked door and they awkwardly settled into bed, on either side of the pillow wall Lucy had constructed between them.

“I’m not going to touch you,” Tal grumbled. “It’s a little insulting that you’d think—”
 

“I’ve got intimacy issues, okay?” she snapped. “Maybe it’s not about you.”

“I won’t hurt you. I was out there too, just like you.”

She looked young, the confidence she’d thrown up every other time he’d seen her cracked, and broken behind her eyes. “I don’t think you’re playing a part. You were covered in your friend’s blood, and you’re not cut out for putting forth such a huge deception. If this was a game, Connor Wilde would be here, putting his mediocre acting skills to the test. He wouldn’t have sent you.” She rolled over, away from him. “Go to bed.”

Tal rolled away as well, to the far edge of his side of the bed. “We can be in this together. We could trust each other. It doesn’t have to mean anything beyond that. When we’re done, we don’t owe each other a damn thing.”

“I don’t have anyone I can trust,” she muttered. “No one. Not anymore.”

“I hooked up with your girlfriend, night before last,” Tal replied as he rolled onto his back, avoiding her gaze.
 
“I don’t know why I did it. I knew it was stupid.”

She looked at him for a few minutes, and he waited for her to have an emotional response. Scream. Hit him. Storm out. Something. None of those things happened. She simply raised her eyebrows and looked at him critically.

“You’re weak. Killing those assholes may have been the most worthwhile thing you’ve done in a long time, if ever.”

Her words stung, a little, and not because she was wrong.
 

“You don’t know me,” he muttered.
 

“I know you’re constantly apologizing for doing the things you want, to others, and probably yourself. That’s not exactly a sign of strength.”

“So what? I should have owned the fact that I went down on your girlfriend? Would that make me stronger in your eyes? I think it would make me an asshole.”

“I already knew about you and…” She couldn’t even say her name without feeling like her head was going to explode with hurt and anger. “Her. She told me.”

“She ran back to your room and told you?” He raised his eyebrows, and confusion stretched across his face. “Huh.”

“She’s the reason we’re in this whole mess, if I had to guess.”
 

“Explain,” Tal said curiously. “Because I wouldn’t have drawn that conclusion from the conversation we had.”

“She’s the only one that knows my comings and goings enough to let someone know when Cole was snatched, and when I was outside that morning. She knew where we both were, and she likely knew you were hungover and slow, and that’s why they drugged you.”

“Or you could just have someone watching your house. I’ve been to your place twice and it’s felt like the fucking wayward center for random drop-ins both times. I don’t think it was Zoey.”

“Well, we’ll have to disagree on that point.” She frowned in disapproval. “She’s manipulative, and you let yourself be a pawn, for what?”

What, indeed, Tal thought to himself. A few minutes of private self-deprecation, accompanied by a lackluster, emotionless orgasm?
 

“If there were shrinks, I’d certainly be seeing one. There’s no doubt about that,” he replied. “Leave me the fuck alone.”

In some ways, Lucy reminded Tal of Leah when she was younger, before she’d been pushed and shoved out of the game by Connor when they were preteens. Lucy was stronger though, and not for the simple fact that she’d risen above the men in her life. She just was. She probably always had been.

“You don’t need Connor, you know,” Lucy murmured. “I bet that’s why he keeps you close.”

Tal wondered briefly if it was Lucy sent to try and fuck with him, but disregarded the thought when his mind flashed back on the scene from earlier. “He keeps me close because we trust each other, and as you mentioned, that’s pretty rare. And I’m the numbers guy. I’m not the out-there, hacking-people-up guy.”

“But neither is he.”

“He’s got the balls to order the hackings and sit there and make sure the job’s done though, and cred with the hackers. I don’t. I never wanted to know anything about that.”

“You can’t just be the numbers guy,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “You can’t just take without suffering a bit.”

“Why not?”

“Because you don’t really want it unless you’ve suffered for it.”

Tal shook his head thoughtfully. “I disagree.”

“Would you kill to keep the things you have?” Lucy demanded.

Tal shrugged. “Depends on what things you’re referring to, I guess. I just killed to keep the thing I value most.”

She propped her face up on the pillow wall and cocked her head at him. “What about other things?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I didn’t know I’d do that before today.”

“I think you knew,” she said, rolling over. “Don’t look at me while I’m sleeping.”

“I don’t know why you think I’d want to look at you sleep,” Tal grumbled, rolling over as well. “So we’re sleeping? Both of us?”

She shrugged. “If we don’t get some sleep, we’re not going to be much of a match for anything. Fuck it. Let’s sleep.”

Tal did watch her sleep, after he got up to go to the bathroom a couple of hours later and he was sure he wasn’t going to get caught. Her dark lashes twitched ever so slightly, as her body relaxed, curled up into a loose ball, the blankets clutched tightly around her.
 

He liked her in an honest, straightforward way, even though he knew he shouldn’t. She was obviously unstable and unpredictable. But she was smart though. She didn’t need time to process like he did, weigh every option. She just went for things. Made up a name at the door. Did what she had to do.

Tal admired that.

Chapter 10

November 2001

Los Angeles, California

Leah and Tal threw another DVD in for Rachel and stared blankly ahead. It had been three weeks since anyone died, and for the two of them, that almost seemed like a lifetime.
 

“Connor’s coming over?” Leah said, disinterested. “Why?”

“He wants to visit. And he has pizza.”

“Doesn’t he have any other friends?” she replied, rolling her eyes as she carefully sat down on the couch. “He’s so obnoxious with his fucking take-over-the-world shit.”

Leah had been acting oddly that week and it wasn’t until Tal had mistakenly come across the box of tampons in the garbage that he realized why. He had no idea what getting one’s period entailed, but he’d watched enough television to know that it turned women into crazy people, and there was bleeding involved.
 

“Hey, he might do it. You never know,” Tal replied with a shrug. “He’s got a lot of shit to pay people with.”