Chapter 12
The sun had set while we were in defense class, and the sky had darkened to the color of a bruise. Vero and I dragged ourselves up the stairwell to our dorm room. She keyed open the door and we both collapsed onto our beds.
“Whose idea was this again?” I asked, still short of breath. My yoga pants were drenched in places that should never sweat while you’re fully clothed.
“Your sister’s,” Vero said, throwing an arm over her eyes, “and I’m never taking her advice again.
Go to the police academy, they said. There will be hot cops everywhere, they said.
Funny how no one bothered to mention the horrible food, the scarcity of hot water, or that we’d get our asses kicked on the first day by a woman half our size.
The whole handcuffing experience isn’t nearly as sexy as NCIS makes it out to be.
” We both quieted at a soft scratching sound.
“If there’s a rodent in this room, I’m out of here,” she grumbled.
The scratching grew louder. Vero’s arm slid away from her face.
We both bolted upright when something thumped against the window.
We got up and crept toward it, but I couldn’t make out anything past our own reflections in the glass.
I rushed to the wall switch and turned off the light.
Vero reached for her pillow when something moved outside.
“What are you doing?” I whispered as she raised it behind her head.
“Improvising,” she whispered. “Didn’t you learn anything in class today?
This pillow is a found weapon. If anyone tries to come in, I’m going to hit him in the face—you know, element of surprise.
And then, while he’s stunned, I’m going to suffocate him with it.
” We both gasped as a large hand pressed against the glass.
“What are you standing there looking at, Finlay? Find a weapon and hide!”
I surveyed my side of our dorm room, frantically rummaging through my suitcase in the dark.
My hair dryer was the only thing in it that remotely resembled a weapon.
I unwound it from a tangle of clothes and flattened myself against the wall beside Vero.
She rolled her eyes at me. Then her brow furrowed as she studied my hair dryer.
She thrust her pillow in my hand and snatched my Revlon Volumizer, gripping it like a Smith & Wesson.
I gaped at her as she pressed back against the wall and pointed it at the ceiling.
We both started as a shadowy figure filled the window frame. Metal scraped against metal.
“He’s trying to jimmy the lock!” I whispered. “We should call my sister. Or Nick.”
“No time,” Vero said as the lock clicked open. “There are two of us and one of him. And we were in self-defense class all afternoon.”
“He looks like a professional. That skews the odds,” I hissed.
“Anyone can be a professional. For crying out loud, Finn, look at you!”
I sucked in a breath as the window slid open. The whites of Vero’s eyes widened as a leg extended through it. I wound the pillow back. Vero raised my hair dryer as the intruder’s sneakers landed softly in the room.
“Get him!” she yelled. I swung the pillow hard.
The man swore as it connected with his face, knocking him backward into Vero.
Vero jumped on his shoulders, one arm looped around his neck, the other smashing the hair dryer into his head as he pinwheeled to keep from falling on top of her.
He staggered into the dresser, then the bed, eventually falling face-first over the end of it to the floor.
Vero jerked his wrists behind his back, winding the hair dryer cord around them.
She dug her knee into his spine and grabbed him by his hair.
“We got him, Finlay! Turn on the light!”
I rushed to the wall switch and flipped it on.
Javi blinked at us, red-faced and livid. One of Vero’s sweaty socks was stuck to his face and my hair dryer dangled between his butt cheeks. Vero let go, backing slowly away from him as Javi worked himself free of the cord.
“Sorry,” I stammered, rushing to shut the window. “We thought you were someone else.”
Vero bit her lip as he stood and she got a good look at the green and yellow bruises on his forehead. New ones were already blooming around them. “I might have overestimated the rose hip oil,” she said in a small voice as he stalked toward her.
“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you? Ever since third grade, when you ran over me with your bike.”
“That was an accident.”
“Or in middle school, when you pushed me off the high dive at the pool.”
“Also an accident.”
“How about homecoming night, when you spiked my beer with laxatives?”
“ That was on purpose,” she said, pointing a finger at him when they were nose to nose. “I hated your date, and you were being an ass.”
He shoved my hair dryer into her hands. “I was worried sick! I called you a dozen times today. Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
“We aren’t allowed to have them in class.”
“Do you have any idea how hard it was to get into this place? I had to bribe a food service delivery guy to let me hide in a truckload of bread! What the hell are you doing in a police training facility?”
“Lying low.”
“From who?”
“People.”
“And of all the places you could have chosen, you picked here?” He threw up his hands when Vero didn’t answer. “Why are there bullet holes in the car, V?”
“That’s kind of a long story.”
“The only part I care about is if you were in the car while people were shooting at it!”
“Of course not!”
“Thank fuck,” he whispered.
“They were shooting at Finlay.”
Javi pinched the bridge of his nose as he sank onto Vero’s mattress.
“So you saw the Aston?” I asked. “Can you get rid of it?”
He lifted his head. “I made a few calls. I know a guy who knows a guy who says he can unload it.”
“How fast?” Vero asked.
“It’ll take me a few days to arrange to have it moved.”
“A few days!”
“I can’t exactly strip it in Ramón’s backyard, V! Not if we’re keeping this a secret from him.” They locked eyes in a silent standoff.
“Fine,” she said, gesturing to the window. “Get as much as you can and let me know when it’s done.”
Javi stood. “So that’s it? You’re just going to hide out here with a bunch of cops until I get the money?”
Vero crossed her arms.
“Great. No pressure,” he muttered. He moved to the window and put a finger between the slats in the blinds, peering at the campus below.
Voices drifted up as students began migrating from the dorm to the mess hall.
“Can’t leave now. Not until all those people clear out. Mind if I crash here for a while?”
Vero made a show of studying her nails. “I don’t mind. Do you, Finn?”
They stole furtive glances at each other from opposite sides of the room.
“I was just going to go find a hot shower and grab something to eat. Will you be okay here?” I asked her as I reached for my coat.
Javi leaned back against the wall beside her bed, one foot hitched behind him, his face a mask of casual disinterest as she surveyed him coolly and nodded.
“Good,” I said. “Try not to kill each other until I get back.” I grabbed my hair dryer off her bed and tucked it in my gym bag. It was probably safer not to leave anything to chance.
I set my gym bag in an empty shower stall in the shared bathroom at the end of the hall and tested the faucet.
The pathetic trickle ran tepid for a moment, then abruptly cooled to a temperature that could probably preserve a body.
Remembering the dense fog I’d seen earlier that day in the women’s locker room, I collected my things and made the trek to the gym, weaving around crowds of students who were on their way to dinner.
Judging by the quality of the offerings I’d seen in the lunchroom earlier, a hot shower alone seemed preferable.
I followed the signs to the locker room, relieved to find it empty. I turned on the shower and checked my phone as I waited for the water to warm.
Still no news of a squashed, tattooed wrestler from New Jersey turning up in any headlines.
I sifted through my notifications. Steven had sent a video a few hours ago while I’d been in class.
I tapped it open. Delia was grinning in the back seat of his truck, his heavy tool belt draped across her lap.
Zach brandished a plastic hammer with a maniacal laugh.
The camera pulled back, catching Steven in the frame with them.
He smoothed back his hair, adjusting the angle of his phone to capture his good side.
Wave hi to Mommy, he said.
Zach shook his hammer and squealed, Mommy!
A wide smile stretched over my face as Delia waved at me. Daddy’s taking us out to lunch and then we’re going on an adventure to—
The video cut off. A text from Steven had followed: We miss you. How about family dinner at my place on Friday? Just you, me, and the kids.
I frowned at my phone. Was this an olive branch to co-parenting or was he asking me on a date? I texted back a quick reply: Family dinner sounds great. Let’s plan for next week at my place. Vero and I will cook.
I tossed my phone in my gym bag, pushing thoughts of Steven from my mind as I stripped off my workout clothes and stepped under the lukewarm spray.
By the time I finished scrubbing, the locker room was thinly veiled with steam.
I toweled off and dried my hair, my stomach rumbling through my sweatshirt as I dragged it over my head.
I packed my dirty clothes and hair dryer into my gym bag and stepped out into the hall in search of a vending machine.
Voices rose from the basketball courts, the squeak of sneakers punctuated by the steady thump of a ball against the gymnasium floor. I slowed as I recognized one of the deep, booming voices through the double doors. Rising up on my toes, I peeked through the small window.