Chapter 4 — Sienna
I'm in my room getting ready for the second night of public appearances when I hear voices downstairs, low and urgent enough to carry through the floorboards.
"—spotted on Main Street this afternoon asking questions at the hardware store. Wasn't subtle about it." That's Tate, voice tight with the tension that means trouble is close.
"Descriptions match two Marrow prospects we've got photos of." Cain, calmer but no less serious. "They're watching Bloomfield now. Which means Crane saw the photos."
"How fast can he move?" Another voice I don't recognize yet.
"Fast. If he wants to make a point, could be tonight. Could be tomorrow. But it's coming."
The voices fade as they move away from wherever they were standing, and I sit on the edge of my bed feeling my father's presence settle over Bloomfield like a storm front moving in.
He saw the photos. He knows I'm with Vigil. And he's sending people to watch, to gather information, to figure out how to hurt me in the way that hurts the most.
I stand and move to the mirror, looking at myself in the same dark jeans and the blue shirt I wore last night that Diesel barely looked at before we ended up not going anywhere.
My hair is down again because I'm tired of pulling it back, tired of the severity, tired of looking like Victor Crane's daughter instead of just me.
Tonight we're supposed to go out again. Bigger venue, more people, make sure the photos spread faster and farther until my father can't ignore that I'm not just gone, I'm actively aligned against him.
I need to look like I want to be there.
I need to perform better than last night.
I need to convince a room full of strangers that Diesel and I are real while he watches me for signs I'm still lying even though this morning felt like progress, felt like maybe he was starting to believe me.
I head downstairs and the common room has more brothers in it than usual, the atmosphere tighter, more focused. Everyone moving with the energy that means threat assessment is active and ongoing.
Diesel is near the window talking to Cain, his back to me, cut stretched across shoulders I can picture too clearly now after being pressed against them on his bike twice.
"She's still a liability," he says, voice low but not low enough. "Even if she's genuine, even if everything she's given us is real, having Victor Crane's daughter here makes us a target in ways we weren't before."
The words land like ice water.
Still a liability. Still a problem to manage.
This morning he asked what I think and looked at me like maybe he was starting to see me as something other than his enemy, and apparently that lasted exactly as long as it took for the reality of Marrow threat to reassert itself.
Cain says something I don't catch and Diesel responds, "I know. But knowing she's probably telling the truth and actually trusting her are different things. And I can't afford to trust her yet."
I turn and head back upstairs before either of them can see me standing there, before the frustration and anger building in my chest can translate into something visible on my face.
I'm in my room with the door closed when I hear boots on the stairs, heavy and deliberate. A knock follows.
I open the door.
Diesel stands there in dark jeans and black shirt, cut over it, looking exactly like he did this morning except now I know what I'm looking at. Someone who spent the day convincing himself I'm still lying even after everything I've given him.
"We're leaving in ten," he says.
"I heard you downstairs."
His expression doesn't change. "Then you know we need to go."
"I heard what you said to Cain. About me being a liability. About not being able to trust me yet."
Something flickers across his face, too fast to read. "You're standing at the top of the stairs listening to conversations you're not part of?"
"I was coming downstairs when you decided to announce to the room that I'm still a problem you're managing. So forgive me for overhearing what you apparently didn't care who heard."
"That wasn't—" He stops, jaw tightening. "That was tactical assessment. Not personal."
"Everything about this is personal. You asking me what I think this morning was personal.
You taking me through Marrow territory to test me was personal.
You looking at me in that church room like maybe you were starting to believe me was personal.
And now you're telling Cain I'm a liability like this morning didn't happen. "
"This morning you didn't slip up on a test ride. That doesn't mean I trust you. It means you passed one test."
"How many tests do I have to pass? How much do I have to give you before you stop looking at me like I'm about to betray you?
" I step forward and he's still in the doorway, still close enough that I can see the muscle in his jaw working.
"I gave you two years of documentation. I've answered every question Cain asked.
I sat on your bike this morning and didn't signal anyone even though I knew that's what you were watching for.
What exactly do I have to do to prove I'm not working for my father? "
"Keep doing exactly what you're doing. Keep being exactly where you are when things get dangerous. Keep not running when running would be the smart choice."
"And then what? You'll trust me? Or will you just find another reason to keep me at arm's length while you touch me in public and pretend it means something?"
His eyes narrow. "It does mean something. It means we're selling the arrangement."
"That's all it means to you? Just performance?"
"What else would it mean?"
"I don't know, maybe that you're starting to see me as something other than Victor Crane's daughter.
Maybe that this morning when you asked what I think and I didn't have an answer, maybe that actually registered with you as something real.
Maybe that taking me through Marrow territory wasn't just a test, it was you trying to prove to yourself I'm lying so you don't have to deal with the fact that you're starting to believe I'm not. "
He's quiet for three seconds too long and I can see him processing, trying to find an argument that holds up against what I just said.
"You're making this complicated," he says finally.
"You made it complicated the second you asked me what I think instead of what I know.
You made it complicated when you looked at me in that church room like I was a person instead of a problem.
You made it complicated this morning when I felt you relax on that bike, when you stopped waiting for me to do something wrong and just rode. So don't put this on me."
"I didn't relax."
"Yes, you did. I felt it. Your breathing changed, your shoulders dropped, you stopped riding like you expected me to signal someone and started riding like you were just riding.
And that meant something, and now you're taking it back because Marrow spotted in Bloomfield reminded you that trusting me is dangerous. "
His hand comes up to the doorframe, gripping it like he needs something to hold on to.
"Everything about you is dangerous. You're Victor Crane's daughter.
Having you here makes Vigil a target. Your father is in Bloomfield right now because of those photos, and people are going to get hurt because of this arrangement, and I can't afford to forget that just because you said something true in a church room. "
"I've said a lot of true things. You just don't want to hear them because hearing them means you have to choose whether you believe me or not, and choosing is harder than just staying suspicious."
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"Yes, I do. I've spent my entire life watching people make calculations about me based on who my father is. I know exactly what I'm talking about. The difference is I'm tired of it, and you're comfortable with it because suspicion is easier than trust."
He steps into the room and closes the door behind him, and suddenly the space is smaller and he's closer and I can see the tension radiating off him like heat.
"You think suspicion is comfortable?" His voice is low and rough. "You think I like looking at you and having to wonder if every word out of your mouth is true? You think I want to watch you the way I've been watching you?"
"Then stop watching me like I'm the enemy and start looking at me like I'm a person trying to survive something I didn't choose."
"I do see you as a person."
"No, you see me as Victor Crane's daughter who might be lying. There's a difference."
"There's no separating the two. You are his daughter. That's not going to change."
"I know that. But it doesn't have to be the only thing you see when you look at me."
He's quiet, breathing harder than he should be, hand still gripping the doorframe like it's the only thing keeping him in place.
"What do you want from me?" he asks, and his voice is strained now, something breaking through the control. "You want me to just forget tactical reality? Ignore that you could still be playing us?"
"I want you to acknowledge that I'm trying. I want you to admit that this morning meant something. I want you to stop punishing me for being his daughter when I'm the one who walked away from him."
"I'm not punishing you."
"Then what do you call looking at me like you did this morning, like you were starting to believe me, and then telling Cain I'm still a liability six hours later?"
"I call it being honest about the situation."
"And I'm calling you a coward."
The word lands hard and I see his whole body go still, see something dangerous flash in his eyes.
"Careful," he says, voice dropping even lower.
"Why? You going to prove me right by walking away? You going to go back downstairs and tell the brothers that Victor Crane's daughter is still a problem that needs managing while you avoid actually making a decision about whether you trust me?"
"You don't want me making that decision right now."
"Why not?"