Chapter 4 #2
Saint sighs and pulls out a chair opposite Nathaniel before dropping into it.
“Let’s see. She called me ‘sailor,’ and ‘Little Boy Blue.’ She said she was a siren luring me in or hypnotizing me.
She said she thought Mercy was my girlfriend, and when I said she’s my sister, she asked if I had more sisters, asked if our parents were looking for her, and then made some comment about her dad not caring about her. ”
Nathaniel’s fingers fly over the keyboard as Saint speaks, taking notes of what he said. When he looks up, Saint hesitates, like he’s not sure if he wants to reveal more.
“And?” I press, frowning at him. “We need all the information we can get.”
“She said Nate should be our first suspect,” Saint admits. “That he’s the ‘main freak on campus.’ And she said I could tell you that.”
Nathaniel nods, inputting the last bit. “That tracks,” he says. “I’m probably the smartest person at Thorncrown. I could definitely make someone disappear—at least digitally.”
“Then why the fuck are we trusting you?” Angel growls. I’ve never seen him so volatile. He’s usually easygoing and agreeable.
“What choice do you have?” Nathaniel asks. “The only other hacker in town was Baron Dolce, and he’s been gone for months. You could bring in an outsider, of course. If you know one.”
I can tell Angel’s about to clock the kid for his smugness, so I rest a calming hand on his shoulder. He relents, though he shoots me a dark look.
“I don’t think Nathaniel has any reason to lead us astray,” I point out.
“Maybe we should go back to Sinner’s Tower,” Saint says. “See if we can get some straight answers out of them this time.”
“No need,” Nathaniel says, spinning his laptop to face us. The screen is divided into twelve sections, each showing a different view of a room in Sinner’s Tower. “No one’s there now.”
“Where did they go?” Saint asks. “When the police made them leave the tower?”
“They’re staying off campus,” I say. “But they actually filed to take a short leave from classes, so they won’t be back until after spring break.”
“No worries,” Nathaniel says. “I’ll check their bank statements and credit cards. Always follow the money.”
“While you’re in there, check if they’ve received any big deposits,” Angel says, glancing at Saint.
Saint nods, lips tight. “So, the Sinceros are gone,” he says. “What about the two other guys who took Mercy?”
“We don’t know who they are,” Angel says. “But once we find out…”
I picture him with his hand around the throat of one of the men, squeezing until his face turns purple.
I should be disgusted by the image, but my pulse picks up speed, excitement rising at the prospect of avenging Mercy.
She would be helpless against those strong men, and the thought of what they might have done to her erases any hesitation about imagining their painful, brutal deaths.
I’ve kept the thoughts, the urges, at bay for so long, but they’ve always been there. Just like they were for my father.
My skin prickles with a chill. I tell myself that my thirst for violence is only because someone hurt my lamb.
She has a power over me, one that only God should have.
For her, I would abandon all I know, all I’ve ever been.
Every principle, every boundary, every oath.
I would give it all up just to worship at her altar for one night.
“Au contraire,” Nathaniel says, breaking into my thoughts.
He swivels to his other laptop and pulls up a clarified image from the video.
“Leonardo Sincero is this tall guy. This other guy is Curtis Campbell, who’s got a pretty impressive rap sheet, including a few arrests at that biker bar outside town where the Disciples hang out.
I have a program crawling for more data on both of them. ”
For a time, we leave him alone with his computers and his Twizzlers, which he’s rapidly consuming as he works with the frenetic energy and intense concentration of someone in their zone.
The rest of us are flagging, the hour well past midnight now.
I make a pot of coffee, and after a while, the front door creaks open and Walker pokes his head in.
“Ah, still here,” he says, stroking the grey cat he’s now carrying in his arms. “Should I find somewhere else to sleep?”
“No,” I say, standing from the table. “Come in. Sit.”
He pauses before he accepts the invitation and enters, keeping a wary eye on Angel. I point to the couch, and he sinks onto the edge of it and deposits the kitten onto the floor.
“Everything leads to your family taking her,” I say bluntly.
“My family—”
“The Sinceros,” I say, holding up a hand to cut off his excuses. “They’re your family too.”
He glances from me, to Angel, to Saint, who have taken up positions on either side of me. At last, he nods. “Yeah, okay,” he says. “You got me. I did it.”
“You took Mercy?” Angel asks, taking a menacing step forward.
I hold out a hand to stop him.
“What? No,” Walker says, drawing back. “I tried to warn her.”
“Wait, what?” Saint growls.
“My cousins were on her since day one, and when they target someone, it never leads anywhere good. So yeah, I sent some notes, tried to warn her. That’s not a crime.”
“Stalking people is a crime,” I tell him. “You were intentionally scaring her.”
“For her own good,” Walker protests. “I knew campus wasn’t safe for her once my cousins set their sites on her.
But I couldn’t just tell her. I had to be discreet.
I’m not one of them. You may think that, but they sure as hell don’t.
They don’t trust me, so I had to be careful, but I was trying to scare her away before something like this happened. ”
“So you admit they’re responsible?” I ask.
“It’s not out of the realm of possibility,” he mutters, looking away.
“I knew it,” Angel growls, shoving past me to grab the other man by the throat. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t gut you like a fish right here and now.”
“That’s what they want,” Walker manages, not wrestling to free himself from Angel’s grip. “They want us to kill each other, so we don’t kill them. That’s how the people in power always stay in power.”
“And what do you want?” I ask.
“Apparently he wants to die,” Angel says, pulling his handgun and pressing it to Walker’s temple.
I know my next words will seal my fate. Or maybe my fate is already sealed, was sealed from the first moment I saw my father strike my mother, saw her get up off the floor and defend him when I tried to intervene, as if he needed protection from a small child.
“No,” I say. “Don’t kill him. He doesn’t want to die. He wants to lead us to Mercy.”