56. Henry
56
HENRY
Amelie and I practically throw ourselves into the back of the van as Meg speeds away from the auction hall. To my knowledge, her and Jensen were supposed to leave ages ago, but they refused to go unless all of us were okay. I’d be flattered if I hadn’t been yelled at for closing the door too slowly.
My mind is racing as I settle myself on the bench seat beside Liz. Amelie lowers herself next to me, absentmindedly untwisting the fabric that gathered around her hips as we ran out here. She looks worn down—her eyes are dull, and her face hasn’t shifted expressions since we left the storage room.
I have no idea if the auction is still going on. Whatever is happening in the bidding area right now is completely lost on me, but I’m petty enough to hope that it ended. That everyone got mad and withdrew. It’s unlikely, but it would be a treat for my pride.
“Alright, kiddos,” Meg says from the driver’s seat. “What happened? Why do I have two freeloaders in here?”
“I’ll go first,” Amelie says with a sigh. “Roman and Margot did all of this.”
“ Margot ?” Jensen and Meg say in unison.
Amelie nods. “Yeah. She was the one doing all the work, I guess. Swapping the pieces, listing them…”
“Why would she do that?” Meg asks exasperatedly.
“I don’t know,” Amelie says, clearly trying to shut down the topic. I can tell by her body language that the knowledge of everything is weighing on her, and I wish more than anything that I could do something about it. “But before that, Jen and I found the paintings and brought them out here.” She motions to the paintings across from us, balanced lightly against the window. “Then I found Liz, and I dragged her out of there, because who would want to stay?”
“Not me,” Liz says, then clasps a hand over her mouth for interrupting. “Sorry. Keep going.”
Amelie does. “When I went back inside, I heard Roman’s voice. I hid in the hall for a bit, and then I heard Roman telling everything to Henry, and bam. I recorded his confession on my phone.”
She says it so casually that the van drops silent for ten seconds.
“I’m sorry, what?” Jensen says, turning so he can see her from the passenger seat. “You got it?”
“Yep. Backed up and everything.”
“Are you turning it in?” Lizzy asks, her loud voice coming across as quiet now. “Are you getting him in trouble?”
Amelie shakes her head confidently. “No. I think we have a sort of agreement now.”
“Care to say what that is?” Meg asks.
Amelie turns to me and studies my face. She’s trying to see what I want; what I think is the best option. Telling her team wouldn’t result in havoc—at least, I don’t think —but I sort of like the idea of keeping it quiet.
Just between the two of us.
So I give her the slightest shake of my head. It isn’t instruction. It isn’t even a request; by the look on her face, I know she’s thinking the exact same thing.
A secret, I imagine she’s thinking. Something just for us.
“No,” she says, leaning her head on my shoulder. She grabs my hand and twines our fingers together, expelling a heavy breath once she’s comfortable. “I think I’ll keep it to myself for now.”
“Alright,” Meg answers, not caring half as much as I thought she did. “Well, I have a better question. What are we doing with these pieces?” She hitches a thumb over her shoulder, gesturing to the three canvases taking up most of our space.
“Those’ll go to my apartment,” I say, leaning forward so I’m better heard. “I’ll take them whenever.”
“Are we stopping at your apartment?”
I start to say yes, then stop, because I don’t know anything about this. Is it wise to drag these up to my penthouse so late at night? I mean, they are my pieces, but I could understand it looking suspicious.
“It’s late,” Amelie says, looking up at me. “You and Liz can just stay with us for the night. We’ll transport them tomorrow.”
Before I have a chance to respond, Liz gasps. “ Really ? We haven’t done something like this in so long!”
“I know!” Amelie reaches over my lap to grab Liz’s hand. I try to shrink back out of the way but end up failing. I’m simply stuck between them. “It’ll be so fun. You can sleep in my bed if you like. I’ve got silk sheets.”
“I don’t sleep on anything but ,” Liz says solemnly. “Where will everyone else sleep, though? Is there only one bed?”
“Meg and Jensen usually share the couch…” Amelie’s voice trails off, and she gives me a sheepish smile.
I nod. “I assume I’ll be sleeping on the floor.”
“I’ll give you pillows,” she promises. “Lots.”
“That really doesn’t help when you’re sleeping on tile.”
“I’ve got a rug, too. A fuzzy one.”
“My apartment isn’t even far. I can just walk.”
“You want to stay, though.” She tips her head at me, and I sigh. I think she’s finally learned that I’ll do anything if she looks at me like that. I didn’t hide it as well as I’d planned to.
“Yes,” I say. “I do.”
“Then it’s settled.” Amelie leans into me once more, so I toss my arm over her shoulders, holding her to my chest. “You’ll sleep on the floor.”
“How exciting,” I say flatly, and she laughs against my side.
No one says a word until the van is parked again. Meg pulls into an alley, and once we’re all out of the vehicle, I help Jensen cover it with old tarps. It looks sketchier than just about anything, and yet again, I wonder how these three manage to stay so undercover. They have more luck than anyone else I’ve encountered.
The five of us make our way through the back entrance and to the elevator. As soon as Amelie hits the button to her floor, Liz grabs onto her hand and sighs. “I’ll need to borrow clothes from you, if that’s alright. I simply cannot sleep in my day clothes— especially not this dress.”
“You can choose any of my pajamas,” Amelie replies, patting Liz’s arm. “And you can use all my products and things. I have three different makeup removers and a counter full of lotions.”
“ Really ?”
“Really,” Jensen mutters. “You can’t move without knocking something over.”
I grin to myself as the elevator doors open. The oddity of this situation should throw me off, but it doesn’t. Strangely enough, being here feels like it could become something normal. It feels better than any interaction I’ve had in my own home for years.
Jensen unlocks the apartment, and we file in behind him. Liz and Amelie instantly go to her room, emerging moments later with a few stacks of clothing in their arms each. I don’t know why they’re all necessary for a one-night stay, but they must have their reasons.
“Jenny,” Amelie says, and Jensen’s head snaps up. “Get Henry some clothes.”
He stares at her blankly for a second, then walks into the same room that she just left. I follow, assuming that it’s what I’m supposed to do, though I can’t really be sure. He gives me no clue as to whether I’m supposed to be here or not.
Jensen goes right to the dresser and yanks open a drawer. He drags out a pair of sweatpants and a plain white shirt, then hands both to me. I thank him and wait for him to leave so I can change, but he doesn’t.
He just sort of stares at me, like my being here is inconveniencing him personally. It shouldn’t intimidate me; really, it shouldn’t. But it does. Jensen is unnerving for reasons I have yet to figure out, though it may be because I’ve never once seen him smile.
“I don’t like you,” he says casually, confirming my already existing suspicions.
I give him a stiff nod, because I’m not sure how to respond.
“At all,” he clarifies.
I clear my throat. “I gathered that.”
Jensen nods and collects some clothes for himself. “But Amelie does. So welcome around, I guess.”
“Thank…you?”
He mumbles something under his breath before walking out of the room.
I laugh to myself once he’s gone, then close the door behind him. Right as I go to undo my tie, though, Amelie says, “Henry. Come to the living room, please.”
I do.
And when I get there, she, Liz, and Meg are standing over the box of fraudulent money my dad gave them.
“We should do something with that, right?” She asks. “Logically.”
Jensen steps out of the hall, having already changed into his clothes—the exact same thing he gave me—and nods. “Probably.”
“What is there to do?” I ask.
Amelie chews on her lip. “I don’t know. I don’t want to keep it, and I’d never use it. Maybe we could toss it in the dumpster? But that might raise questions. It looks real. I just?—”
“We could set it on fire.”
Every eye turns to Lizzy when she offers up the suggestion. “What?” She shrugs. “That would get rid of it.”
“We could,” Amelie says slowly. “There is a firepit on the roof. I don’t know if it’s really allowed for use, but…”
Silence, and then Meg says, “I’ll get the lighter fluid.”
“I’ll get the matches,” Jensen mutters.
Lizzy claps. “I’ll find some marshmallows.”