Metaltown (18 page)

He crossed the street.

The man opened the car door.

Inside was Lena Hampton.

Word traveled fast—even the boss had heard what he'd said last night at Lacey's. Doing one final survey of the area, he leaned down to face her.

“You wanted to see me?” She was wearing a soft-looking sweater and pants that showed the shape of her legs. Her eyes were bright with worry, the kind that had had him talking to her in the first place. Still not altogether sure he wasn't about to get jumped, he drew in a slow breath, and reminded himself to keep a safe distance.

“Please sit. Colin.” The tentative way she tried his name on for size had him scowling. She patted the seat beside her with one satin glove, making him realize how little skin she showed. Just that thin, graceful neck and her pretty face.

“I'm fine right here,” he said. Trouble followed this girl. She'd been the one to cut Ty loose, and was probably about to do the same to him.

“Oh. Of course.” Her chin dropped. “I just wanted to return this to you.” She reached into the purse at her feet and removed the scarf he'd given her.

Damn.
He hadn't thought she'd kept it, but seeing that she meant to give it back stung a little. Realizing it was best to get this over with quickly, he scooted in beside her, and pulled the door closed, feeling immediately warmer inside the small compartment. Outside the window, her man glared at him, and he raised both hands to show he wasn't doing anything worthy of a leg breaking.

She offered the scarf again, nearly shoving it into his lap.

“It's yours.” He wasn't so sure he wanted to keep the memory of this encounter wrapped around his neck.

“But you said you'd get it back when I saw you next.”

“And I didn't.”

Her mouth formed a small O. She unfolded the scarf, refolded it, and then tried to hand it to him again. “I'm sorry for the delay. I'm sure you've been missing it.”

“It's a scarf,” he said, and then gave a short laugh. “You think I can't afford another one. I'm sure I'll survive somehow.” The color brightened her cheeks. He liked that more than he cared to admit.

“That's not what I meant,” she said. “I'm not used to people giving me things.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“No. Gifts, that's what I mean. Unless … I could pay you?”

“What did you have in mind?”

Her eyes grew wide, and she glanced to her bodyguard, still outside.

“Take it easy,” he said. “I was joking. You don't get out much, do you?”

“I've been here twice this week already.”

“Yeah.” He frowned. “I remember.”

She straightened, turning more to face him, and when she did, her knee bumped against his. She apologized, then backed into her door to widen the space between them. “That's why I wanted to speak to you, actually. To talk about what happened.”

“And here I thought you just wanted to get me in the backseat.” He drummed his fingers on the driver's compartment, directly in front of them.

“Are you never serious?”

He snorted. “Are you really dragging this out?”

“Dragging what out?”

“Aren't you here to fire me?”

“What? No.
No.
I'm not here to fire you. I just wanted to talk to you. I wanted to see if that girl had found work, and if not, maybe I could help her find something.”

“That'd be nice, since she got hurt on the job and all.” He bit the inside of his cheek, not meaning to have been so free with his words.

Lena's mouth dropped open. “She did? I thought … Why didn't Mr. Minnick tell me?”

“Probably because he's the one that sent her to the Stamping Mill, where it happened.”

Lena's face, drained of color, fell into her hands. He blinked down at her, surprised that she was genuinely upset. When she sat back up, several hairs had slipped from her braid. She looked better that way. Like she wasn't trying so hard to be perfect.

“It'll be all right,” she said in a way that made him think she was talking to herself, not to him. “It won't be hard to find her something else. There are plenty of jobs that don't require a lot of experience.”

“She had years of experience.” He scoffed. “You think we're born knowing how to wire fuses?”

“That's not what I meant,” she said. “I meant that the work she was doing … it's not exactly skilled labor.” Her face turned red.

His probably did too.

“So anyone can do it.”

“I'm not saying that.” She cringed, likely because she
was
saying that. “I didn't mean to offend you.”

“I know. That's what makes it worse.”

She clasped her hands over her lap, squeezing to the point of shaking. “I'm sorry. I've really made a mess of things. That wasn't my intent.”

He shrugged. “Don't take this the wrong way, Lena.” He paused, checking her response to the use of her name. “But what do you care? You're a Hampton. She's nothing to you. None of us are.”

She stared at him. “You don't know me.”

“Yeah, I'm beginning to get that,” he said quietly.

“I'm talking too much.” She looked flustered again. “Please tell the girl that I'd like to make up for things.”

A moment of awkward silence passed.

“Okay,” he said. He could already imagine how well that would go over.

Lena's back straightened. Her chin lifted. “You don't believe I'm good for it.”

“Does it matter if I do or not?”

“Yes,” she answered. “You should trust your employers to keep their word.”

Her tone was so genuine he almost pitied her. She really believed that this was the way it worked. The fence around her house must have been sky-high to keep her so sheltered from the real world.

“Trust is a hard promise to keep,” he said slowly.

“Trust is earned,” she said. “I understand that.”

He scratched his jaw, suspecting this was an act, and curious what she had to gain if it was. He was a nobody at the factory; he hadn't been there half as long as some of the others and he sure wasn't Minnick's favorite. He was just a guy she'd met on the street, a tiny piece of the big Hampton machine. Winning his allegiance was useless.

But winning hers might not be.

If she really did intend to help Ty, maybe she could help all of them. Minnick didn't listen, Otto Hampton didn't care. But Lena had the positioning to make things happen. Goggles and suits in the hot room, maybe. Clean water for the workers. She'd bat her eyes at Daddy and they might even get overtime pay.

“I'll tell her you want to talk,” he said.

“Good,” she said. “And thank you. For your time.”

And just like that, he'd been dismissed. He pulled the door open and stepped outside. Right into Otto Hampton.

Startled, he jerked back. Otto was wearing a collared shirt, neatly pressed, and his short, dark hair was greased to the side. He was standing beside Lena's driver, thumbs tucked into his trouser pockets.

“Hope I didn't interrupt,” said Otto. Colin's shoulders rose.

“Otto!” Lena jumped from the passenger side. “What are you doing here?”

“Surprised, sister?” asked Otto. “Mr. Minnick works for me, as you seem to have forgotten. As do the rest of the
employees.
” He sent an appraising glare Colin's way.

Lena's surprise iced over. She marched around the car until she was standing between them. “I reviewed your reports, Otto. It appears as though I'm not the only one forgetting things.”

Colin was impressed. Maybe he knew even less about her than he thought.

Otto Hampton snorted, his expression slick with arrogance. “Does Father know about this?” He tilted his head toward Colin.

“About what?”
Say it,
Colin silently dared.
If you're man enough.

“Oh, this is rich.” Otto cracked a smile. “He's going to defend your honor.”

Rage, hot and sudden, struck him. Otto's smart mouth was about to earn him a broken jaw.

Lena turned to Colin, her eyes pleading. “Go. You've been excused.”

Excused?
The fun never ended with this family.

“Yes, go back inside,” said Otto. “Before I change my mind and have you arrested for assault.” Colin looked to Lena once more, and only when she nodded did he start walking.

“And one more thing,” said Otto, slapping his palm on Colin's chest. Colin looked down at it slowly, imagining how he could break each finger. “Next time you put your hands on my sister, at least have the decency to bathe first.”

Colin mustered a cold smile. Without a word, he walked back inside.

 

17

TY

Days lasted forever when you had no green and no work.

Ty waited in the alley outside Small Parts at closing time, but no one came out. An hour passed and still the doors stayed locked. Just before dark, she walked to Beggar's Square and got a cup of broth and some corn mash from the line, but when she returned, there was still no movement.

“Come on, Minnick,” she groaned. She'd hated overtime when she was working, but now that she wasn't, she sort of missed it. There was something calming about knowing where you were supposed to be and what you were supposed to be doing. She'd been good at her job, and everyone knew it. Now what did she have? Nothing.

She kicked a broken bottle against the door, and as if by magic, the chain inside rattled, and it swung outward.

She recognized the faces. Harker, T.J., and a quiet kid Colin called Loudmouth. None of them looked at her. They wanted to play the high-and-mighty game? Fine by her. She didn't like them anyway.

When Colin emerged the load on her shoulders lightened. He spotted her across the alley and walked over, yawning and stretching his arms.

“Take all night, why don't you,” she said.

“Miss me, Ty?”

“Kiss my ass.” She spat on the ground. “Thought maybe another supply train had been taken out and Minnick was making you work a double.”

At the mention of the Advocates, he groaned—they were all still burned from the extra work they'd had to do last time the rebels had struck, only to have more overtime stuffed on—but something else was bothering him. A few days ago he wouldn't have had to tell her. She would have known, because they would have been together. But now she felt a space between them.

Zeke tore out of the exit, his face set and furious. He was running by the time he reached the street.

“Late to pick up his sister,” said Colin.

Ty snorted, remembering the way he'd used her as an excuse not to make a stand against Minnick. “Too bad for him.”

Martin came up behind them. “How's the vacation, Ty?”

She wove her fingers, stretched them before her. “Wouldn't know. Spent all day at the train station loading boxes.” It was half true, anyway—she'd been to the train station looking for work, and when they'd turned her down she'd gone to the Uniform Division. She'd spent four hours in their lobby before the foreman finally came out and told her they didn't need a girl with one eye.

Ty looked away when Colin's brow lifted. “You hungry?”

“Starved,” he answered.

“Hayak's still got his cart out,” called Martin.

When they reached the street, it became obvious that most of the others had the same idea. Ty was hungry again—the broth and mash hadn't done much to quiet her grumbling stomach—and she began taking stock of everything hanging low enough that she might be able to grab without the old man catching on.

Colin was surveying the line before them, brooding.

“Spit it out already,” said Ty, tired of him holding back secrets.

He pulled his hat down over his ears. “You hear anything today about last night?”

“No, why?”

“I think someone told Jed Schultz what happened at Lacey's.”

“Someone did, in fact,” said a man behind them.

Ty spun around, her knife already palmed before she realized Jed himself was standing three feet away. Beside him were Imon and three more men from the Brotherhood. They were big, dressed like greenbacks, and didn't look particularly friendly.

“Mr. Walter,” said Jed, flashing a fake smile. His harsh gaze was pointed at Colin.

“Mr. Schultz.” Colin's ears turned faintly pink. Ty placed herself on his left side, where he was weaker, even though it kept her blind on the outside. A mix of fury and fear scored through her. After their last meeting in Jed's office, she didn't know what to expect.

She became aware that the line had gone quiet. Everyone's eyes were upon them.

“Some concerning news has come my way,” said Jed. “Unexpected news.”

Colin didn't say anything. Jed leaned back, hands in his hip pockets.

“Do you know what an organized press is, Colin?”

Ty's shoulders jerked. Colin was right. Someone had ratted to Jed.

“I've heard of it,” said Colin carefully.

“Do you know what happens to workers that press when they don't have a charter?” When Colin didn't answer, Jed took a step forward. “They get fired. They lose their jobs. And then they go hungry and lose their homes. Do you know what happens to the man that leads them?”

Colin stood his ground, silent.

“He gets blamed. For all those hungry stomachs and cold nights on the street.”

“Some of us are hungry now,” said Colin. Ty bit down on the inside of her cheek.

“I know what it's like to want to help,” said Jed. “I know better than anyone. And so I've been thinking.” He glanced behind them, making sure everyone was listening.

Here it comes,
thought Ty.

Jed opened his arms. “Small Parts would be a welcome addition to the Brotherhood. We can look out for these people, take that heavy burden off your back.”