24. “Partners in Crime” - FINNEAS
“Partners in Crime” - FINNEAS
Heath
If it wasn’t clear before now that I am one of the universe’s biggest fuckups, there should no longer be any doubt.
Once Walker has locked me out and the Archives staff has locked me in, I don’t have a lot of options. Fortunately my phone is still in the pocket of my shorts. I pull it out and call Pierce.
“What the fuck, mate?” he says by way of greeting.
“Uh, hey,” I say.
“Where are you guys?”
I pace the area near the reception desk. “Funny you should ask, actually—”
“I knew it,” Rhett yells in the background. “You owe me two grand.”
“Listen,” I say. “Walker and I are stuck inside the Archives—”
“What do you mean, you’re stuck?” Pierce says.
Another hoot of laughter comes through the phone.
“We got locked in when they closed.”
“Fuck,” Pierce mutters. “Any idea how to get out?”
“We can bring some body oil,” Rhett shouts.
“Shut the fuck up, Rhett,” Pierce says. The background noise grows quieter as he leaves the room.
“I’m looking for a window we can climb out of. Problem is, most of them are pretty high.” I consider all of the ones in the front area, but unless I can find a ladder, there’s no way we’ll get up there. “I think we can manage to find a way up. It’s coming down outside that I’m worried about.”
“You said Walker’s with you?” he says.
I picture her in that tiny room in the back, alone with her anger. “Yeah, she’s here too.”
“Is she right there?”
“She’s not right here. She’s—busy,” I finish lamely.
“Maeve wants to know if you have anything yet.”
“I’m working on it.”
“I’ll let her know,” he says. “If you guys can climb out through a window, I can have a ladder outside. The other alternative is breaking the glass of the doors.”
I’d rather avoid a run-in with the police tonight. “I’ll find a window.”
“Okay,” he says. “And warn Walker, will you? Maeve is on a rampage tonight. She’s out for blood after the two of you blew us off.”
A surprised laugh comes out of my chest. “What?”
“It’s Tuesday, mate.”
Fuck. We forgot about poker night.
There’s a window in one of the back rooms above a bookcase full of odds and ends: books, reams of paper, plastic spoons, and a pair of women’s pantyhose that I don’t want to know the origins of.
The space is only for staff members—a lunchroom, judging by the microwave sitting next to the watercooler.
The bookcase feels sturdy enough. I climb to the top and shove on the window. It opens with a creak, letting in a gust of muggy air. I inhale several lungfuls before climbing back down.
The easy part is over. The hard part will be convincing Walker to come out.
She doesn’t answer when I knock on the door. “Walker,” I call. “It’s me.” I halfway expect a “No shit, doofus,” but there’s only silence on the other side.
I slide down to the floor. There’s no rush. It will take Pierce close to an hour to get a truck and ladder and drive over here.
“Walk, I’m sorry,” I say. I scoot my fingers under the door. I can only get the tips of them out on the other side. “I get it if you can’t forgive me. It was a shitty thing to do. The worst, actually.”
Nothing. Maybe she’s fallen asleep.
“Pierce is coming to get us out. I found a window in the back we can climb through.” When she still doesn’t say anything, I lean my head back against the door. I must doze off, because when the door opens, I jolt upright.
She’s standing in the doorway, eyes hooded and mouth flat. “Let’s go.”
I lurch to my feet, still groggy from sleep. “I never should’ve—”
“Don’t talk.”
Things don’t get any less awkward in the back room as we wait for Pierce’s call saying he’s outside. She’s studiously ignoring me, and I can’t blame her. If some other asshat treated her the way I did, he’d be lucky to be alive after I got my hands on him.
I still distinctly remember beating up Ryan Watkins at a party sophomore year of high school. He tried to have sex with Walker in the bathroom. It took a nice round of plastic surgery to fix his face after Pierce and I were done with him.
Another memory surfaces, and this time I laugh out loud. Walker’s brows pull into a frown, but she keeps her eyes on her phone.
“Do you remember Alastair Eaton?” I’m leaning back against a table that has seen better days.
She doesn’t respond.
“Stupid glasses, came up to my elbow, always tucked his shirts in?”
I may as well be talking to a rock.
“He thought rats were smarter than humans?”
She doesn’t even blink.
“He pronounced ‘resonate’ as ‘resignate’?”
“You mean my first boyfriend,” she deadpans without lifting her gaze.
I exhale a laugh. “Yeah. Kid couldn’t walk straight for a week after we finished with him.”
I expect her to laugh, or at least smile, in remembrance. The guy had stolen her virginity on a fucking sofa, then used her for sex for the duration of their short-lived relationship.
“Is there a point to all of this?” she asks, looking up from her phone. We’ve left the lights off to avoid alerting anyone to our presence. Even in the shadows, her form is as familiar to me as my own.
“No,” I say. “Just remembering that I’m not the first guy to screw you over.”
She crosses her arms. I try not to look at her boobs but am not entirely successful. “At least Alastair never cheated on me.”
It’s supposed to hurt, and it does, but I also can’t help but be grateful that she’s talking about it instead of running away.
“True,” I say. “Want me to track him down? Maybe he’s still single.”
I can’t be sure because of the darkness, but I think her mouth tilts upward.
Pierce arrives with the truck soon afterward. I help steady Walker as she climbs up the bookcase.
“Get your hand off my ass.”
I reluctantly comply, already knowing what I’ll be dreaming about tonight .
Everyone is waiting for us outside.
“God, Pierce,” I mutter as I make my way down the ladder. “You had to bring the entire circus.”
Maeve is standing at the bottom. “Hope you’re ready for your punishment,” she says with a wicked grin. Maeve is scarier than my dad when someone breaks the rules.
“I think I’ve been punished enough,” Walker says, arms once again crossed over her chest.
Maeve’s laser focus darts between the two of us. “I’m not going to pretend to know what’s going on here, because frankly, I don’t care. Poker night is a ritual. And you two dishonored it.”
“We’re not a cult, Maeve.” No matter what punishment she decides to heap on our heads, it won’t be anywhere close to as bad as the cold shoulder Walker is determined to give me.
“Rules are rules, Heath,” Maeve says. “Right, guys?” She turns to look at Pierce, Rhett, and Lux standing behind her.
Pierce rolls his eyes once she’s facing the front again. He mouths something that looks like Just go with it.
“We decided that your punishment will be carrying out the next revenge,” she says.
Walker’s face is as impassive as ever.
“Our victim is Randall Cromley,” Pierce adds, stepping up beside Maeve. “He took Maeve out a few times, then ghosted her.”
“He’s obsessed with his hair,” Maeve adds, disgust edging her voice. “That should’ve been an immediate red flag.”
“You two are going to break into his apartment and fill his shower head with Lifesavers.” Lux steps forward and dumps a giant bag of clear candies into my arms. “He turns the shower on, and boom—he’s a sticky mess.”
“No matter how much he showers,” Rhett says with a malicious gleam, “mate won’t ever get it off. ”
I exhale and turn to Walker. She’s still ignoring me, so I turn back to everyone else. “Okay. Doesn’t sound too bad.”
“There’s one more thing,” Pierce says.
The side of Maeve’s mouth quirks upward into a smirk you don’t want to be on the wrong side of.
“You two have to test it,” she says.