worst had been done, that all the tangibles were gone, and I was bereft. They were wrong. Seeing Alex’s eyes the second before he twisted the wheel was what did it. Seeing that the one person I had left—the one person I thought had always loved me—wanted me to die, broke the last part of pre-scandal Reese Carlisle and left only shadows in her wake.
Chris doesn’t want to believe me but I know that he does. He made me look at him, but only because he wanted to see, not be seen. But I saw.
He shuffles me back into the truck and agrees not to gag me if I promise to be quiet. He ties my feet again, but I don’t care. I don’t care about anything. The admission leaves me spent. It’s humiliating, admitting to the man who fucked you for answers that yet another person you thought cared about you, did, in fact, not.
He climbs into the driver’s seat but doesn’t start the truck. I stare at the back of his chair, the scuffs on the worn leather, feeling itchy tears drip off the side of my nose. “Are you done?” I ask eventually. “Is this over?”
I’m aware there’s no blanket. That we’re at the top of a cliff I’ve already been tossed off once.
I hear him open his mouth, the soft snick of sound as his lips part, then he’s quiet again. He starts the truck and drives us back to Holden in silence.
I could probably fight when we get in the elevator. He untied my feet and freed one of my hands, cuffing it to his, so I can’t make a run for it. But no one gets in the elevator as we ride to my floor, and I no longer care enough to try to run away. We enter the apartment and flop onto the couch, oddly normal if not for the handcuffs. He even offers me gum, but I decline. He folds a piece in half and chews.
“What’s this all about?” he asks, gesturing to the maps pinned to the wall.
“Target practice.”
“I know, you know.”
“Of course you do.”
“About Madagascar and Australia and Yap.”
I stay silent.
“I looked at your laptop last night. Your big travel plans. They sound nice.”
I swallow.
“How are you going to pay for it?”
“I had a job before all this. I know how to invest.”
“Your own money?”
I say nothing and stare at the wall.
“Why the map of Holden?”
I shrug. I feel him watching me, but I set my jaw and refuse to return the stare. After a second, he uncuffs himself and attaches the empty shackle to my ankle, hobbling me. “Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
He approaches the wall and carefully unpins the map of Holden City, then walks over to the window and uses his gum to fasten the map to the glass. Pinpricks of light shine through the holes; hundreds of random constellations.
He rejoins me on the couch and studies the scene. “What are you planning here, Reese? What’s the pattern?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
“I don’t think you do anything randomly. Not before the scandal, not after. I looked into you. You made yourself famous. You worked for that.”
“I was an idiot.”
“I thought so, too, at first. But it turns out you’re not.”
I glance down, my cuffed hand and ankle casually resting on top of my knee like I’ve chosen this position. Like any of this is my choice. I can see the edge of my scar poking out beneath the hem of my dress. This stupid dress. His stupid compliments.
“I want to change my clothes.”
“You can change before bed.”
“Why not now?”
“Because I said so.” He pulls out his phone and calls up a picture of a tall bald guy in a black pea coat. “You know him?”
“Know” isn’t the right word, but I think I recognize him. He’s one of the guys who followed Chris into the parkade that night.
Still, I say, “No.”
“How about him?”
A picture of the other guy I saw in the parking garage the night Chris followed me. “No.”
“Johan and Davor Litski,” he says.
“So?”
“Alex’s friends.”
I snort. “I doubt it.” My brother’s friends were quintessential struggling artists. They wore vests and pork pie hats and jeans with paint stains. They all had hair.
“Maybe ‘friends’ isn’t the right word.”
“What’s the point of all this?”
“Did you know about the gambling, Reese?”
I sigh. “Who gambled, Chris?”
“Alex.”
“You’re wrong.”
“I’m right. When we started investigating your father, we needed a way in. Your brother was our way.”