Metaltown (27 page)

Something cold and sharp pressed into her belly.

Yelling. Words she couldn't make out. The fighting around them stilled.

“Fine, okay,” said Colin, voice low. “Let go of her, and we'll talk.”

Lena's gaze flicked over to him. A young man behind Imon was snickering. Both sides watched her intently.

“The clothes,” said Imon.

“Don't do it,” warned Ty. Lena felt the sob tumble from her throat.

“Think she'll bleed much?” Imon wondered aloud.

Lena inhaled sharply, feeling the metal cut through her clothing and knick her skin. He was going to cut her open. She sucked in her belly as far as it would go, trying so hard to hold absolutely still, but she couldn't stop shaking.

“Okay!” Colin tore off his coat, and then the wool sweater underneath. The boy with the brass knuckles held out his hand to take it.

“And the rest of it,” prompted Imon. Colin swore under his breath.

He removed his boots, taking care to place his knives inside. Then he pulled down his wool trousers, wearing nothing beneath but long underwear. Lena knew she ought to avert her eyes, but she couldn't look away. His face was red, even in the streetlight. She felt the cold then, felt it snake through her. He must have been freezing, but he hardly moved.

With hardly an expression, Imon released her. Her trembling legs gave out and she sank to her knees. Imon turned, exposing his back as if daring Colin to stick a knife in it, and walked away. One by one the Brotherhood thugs followed.

Then Colin's hands were on her shoulders, lifting her to her tip-toes. “You okay?” The adrenaline screamed through her ears, distorting his voice. Her knees wobbled. It was all she could do to stay upright.

“Safety!” Ty said, pushing him aside. “You and your goddamn safety!”

“Should we go after them?” Noneck asked, looking anxious.

“Course we're going after them,” said Ty, though she wouldn't look at Lena.

Colin scratched his hands through his short hair, then snatched his coat off the ground and shoved it over his shoulders.

“No.”

“What? Why?” Ty's arms dropped to her sides. Lena caught the glint of a knife in one hand and shivered uncontrollably. In her pocket was the little rope doll Shima had made her when she was little, and she squeezed it as hard as she could.

Home,
she thought.
My bed. My sheets. My pillows.

But these thoughts didn't warm her.

“Schultz knows they were here. We go after them, we have the rest of the Brotherhood on our backs tomorrow.”

“So what?” countered Ty, placing herself right in front of him. The others looked uncomfortable—more afraid of their own fear than of their enemies, yet angry at the same time. Henry had come to Lena's side and thrown a clumsy arm over her shoulders. She wanted nothing more than to shove him away, but she was so cold.

“How are we going to fix Small Parts if we declare war on the Brotherhood?” Colin asked them. Some of those closest tried to argue, but he stood his ground. “Schultz is baiting us. He thinks we're just a bunch of kids. The only way to get payback is to show him we're not. We've got to beat him at his own game.” Colin jabbed the shoulder of a tall boy who was coiling some copper wire around his finger and looking mutinous. “Not get distracted.”

“So says the guy in his underwear,” said Zeke. A tense laughter broke over them. Lena laughed nervously, then clamped a hand over her mouth.

The humiliation cracked open inside of her. Colin was laughing, but he must have been mortified. He'd been stripped down in front of all his friends. Made to look like a fool.

“All right, all right,” said Colin. “Get out of here. Don't be late tomorrow.”

They filtered away, one by one. Back to their apartments, or back to the streets. As they cleared, Colin approached Ty, whose mouth was still set with fury.

“That was a lot of green back there,” he said casually, as if he weren't half-clothed. Lena stared at the outline of his legs in the darkness, long and muscled. Men in the River District would never be so unashamed. Her gaze shot away.

“Eavesdropping wasn't the only thing we did last night at the Brotherhood office,” she snapped. “Chip's got sticky fingers.”

Lena closed her eyes. Who were the bigger crooks? The Brotherhood or the Small Parts Charter?

Colin tilted his head back toward his apartment. “You coming?” The invitation was directed at Ty, and made Lena feel small, like she didn't belong, even when Ty shook her head to decline.

“Why don't you take the little princess home?” Ty said. “Looks like she misses Mommy.”

Lena's knees locked.

“My mother's dead.” She wasn't sure why she said it, but the way Ty hunched at her words brought on a wave of victory. Still, the girl had a point. Where would she go? Back to Shima's? Even though she was tempted, she couldn't walk there now, not with Mr. Schultz's gang on the streets.

Colin didn't look at her right away, and she worried what that might mean. When Otto didn't look at her, he was angry, and his anger was far worse than his playfulness. She heard a small tear, and realized she'd been stretching her gloves too far up her wrists.

“There's a spot on the couch if you want it,” Colin said to her.

Ty's spot.
Lena wasn't in a position to decline.

A different kind of nerves tightened her insides. She nodded.

*   *   *

She clung to his shadow as they moved through the weeds. Her footsteps on the metal stairs of the fire escape were nearly silent—her goal to draw as little attention as possible. But her hands gripped the handrails, and her gaze darted to all sides.

When they reached the top, he slid aside the board blocking the window and offered his hand to help her over the ledge. She was still straddling the windowsill when a movement inside made her pulse skip.

A man—nearly as tall as Colin, but thinner—waited within, a tire iron slung loosely over his shoulders.

“Nice work, little brother,” he said, gazing over her appreciatively. He barked out a laugh when Colin followed. “Looks like you forgot something.”

Brothers. Her pulse settled. That explained the resemblance. They had the same long face, like Ida's, and the same cocky grin. But the spaces below this man's cheeks were hollowed and she thought his eyes looked a little jaundiced, though maybe that was the yellow light from the buzzing bulb overhead.

“Your friend Jed sent his dogs to collect,” said Colin harshly. “Don't worry too much, all right? I took care of it. Me and the Small Parts Charter. Maybe you saw us outside.”

His brother tensed, mouth set in a grim line.

“What are you doing?” he asked, though from his flat tone it didn't sound like he really expected an answer. The tire iron hit the floor with a flat clunk. “Schultz will roast you for this. No one else makes a run on Metaltown. Not even McNulty.”

Lena didn't know who McNulty was, but he didn't sound good.

“I'm not scared of him, Hayden.”

“Then you're a fool.” He stepped up to meet his brother, nose to nose.

As they squared off, Lena braced herself for more violence. “Stop!” she whisper-shouted. “Is killing each other all you people want to do?”

They both turned to stare at her. Hayden tilted his head, cocking one brow in the same way his brother did.

“Kinda feisty, aren't you?”

Colin snorted. “You should have seen her kick Imon.”

“Yeah?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, still jittery. “Well, he did a little more than kick me back.”

Colin's shoulders dropped. Abandoning his argument with Hayden, he led her past the quiet bedroom, to the bathroom, where he shut the door behind him. It was a tight squeeze with two people. Too tight. Her head began to buzz like the overhead light.

“What are you doing?” she asked, voice thin. It wasn't appropriate for them to be in such tight quarters together. His brother was right outside, likely thinking the same thing.

He reached around her to the plastic shelving unit on the wall. When his chest grazed hers, she backed up even farther, locked between his body and the cracked porcelain sink. The sweat began to dew on her hairline.

“Back up,” she said. “Please.”

He withdrew a first aid kit and a ratty towel, and motioned toward her sweater. Now that she looked down she could see where Imon's knife had ripped it.

“Let's see the damage.”

“Back up!” She tried to keep quiet but her voice broke. “You're not wearing pants.”

His mouth turned up the tiniest bit. “Is that the problem?”

“I…” She placed her hands on his chest, shoving him back sharply. Her gaze lifted to the ceiling, focusing on the light. A wave of nausea crashed over her. “I don't like small spaces.”

He hesitated, as if to ascertain that this was true. “Fair enough.”

Without another word, he left. She locked the door before crumpling over the sink. A ragged breath scraped down her throat, and she forced herself to focus on the overused toothbrushes and powdered dental paste on the ledge. What was she doing here? She didn't know this boy. His friends were rough and crude, and associated with criminals—one who would have taken her life without a second thought.

So fragile.
Her father's words echoed in her head.

She fanned her eyes, willing the stinging to stop, then rolled up her sweater. The wound was small, merely a puncture, but she'd bled enough for a thin, orange rose to blossom on the skin from her ribs to her pant line. It stung when she prodded it. A hiss escaped through her teeth.

Cleaning and dressing the wound steadied her hands and calmed her mind. This, she could do. This, she had practiced. Turning to the side, she inspected the yellow-brown bruise that remained from Otto's careful hand. A reminder that no matter who tore her down, she could always put herself back together.

*   *   *

When she left the bathroom, Colin was alone. The crate and plywood that had served as a table had been pushed back against the wall, and a line of light pink rags were hanging to dry on the windowsill.

He shrugged grumpily when she asked where his brother had gone.

She crossed her arms. Uncrossed them. She pulled her sleeves down over her hands, debating if she should sit beside him on the couch. Was that where he planned on sleeping? She hadn't seen another bed. Lena had never slept with another person in the room, not counting Shima, who was a girl, and her nanny besides. She was clearly imposing.

Colin rose, and she was relieved to see he'd put on some pants. They were too big, and hung low on his hips, drawing her eyes to the place where they connected with the bottom of his shirt. He laid out some blankets on the couch, scratching the back of his neck.

“Not exactly what you're used to, I guess.”

She had the sudden urge to show him what it was like at her house. Big, spacious rooms, heated to comfort. Food available any time from the kitchen staff. Bathtubs and hot water and a plush, oversized bed.

“Not exactly,” she said quietly.

He frowned, and then the lines below his eyes pinched in anger. There was a bedroll of some sort in the corner, and he tossed it out on the floor.

“Well, we can't all be greenbacks,” he said.

She'd heard the word before, but no one had ever called her it to her face. A hot flush burned through her. She hadn't asked to grow up in a big house. No one had given her the choice. And even if they had, he couldn't blame her for wanting nice things. He would have taken them, too.

She lowered to the couch, settling delicately so the springs wouldn't groan, and pulled the scratchy blankets to her neck. When he switched the light off, her hand rose to her breastbone, to rub out the hard, hollow ball formed beneath it. Cherish's hacking cough came through the thin walls in the adjacent room.

The mat crinkled as he lay down, and she listened for several minutes to the sound of his breathing. It made her conscious of her own breathing, and she opened her mouth to make herself as silent as possible. If she were still enough, maybe he'd forget she was there, and maybe she would, too.

“If you want to go home tomorrow, I understand,” he said.

She thought of the soup she'd eaten earlier with his parents, the pride in their eyes when they talked about how well he'd done in school, or what a hard worker he was. Despite the fact that their table was a board tilted up against the wall, and they had barely enough blankets to stave off the chill, he didn't seem so poor right then.

“I meant what I said,” she whispered. “I want to help.”

She remembered what he'd told her—that she couldn't help on the line, she probably couldn't even help in the charter. But she
could
help in the office of the Small Parts factory. That's where she could make changes that would matter.

But that meant going home, and speaking to her father. He probably wouldn't even consider giving her a role in the business after what had happened, especially not after he learned that she'd agreed to assist the charter.

What Ty said had been true. Colin had made a mistake trusting her.

“Your friend was right about Mr. Schultz collecting money from my family,” she said. “I saw my brother pay him at a party at my house.” Admitting this to Colin felt wrong, but what Otto had done was wrong, too. If the payment had been a legitimate business transaction, it would have been recorded. She would have seen some reflection of it in the documents she'd pored over preparing for her factory visit. She pushed aside her feelings of unfaithfulness. Outside, she'd joined Colin's cause. She would do what she could.

“Ty never liked Jed.” He sighed. “I should've listened to her.”

“She doesn't like me, either,” she said.