Chapter Ten
JASPER AND CHIEF ARE SMILING. Smiling. Not smirking, not grinning, smiling.
Like two schoolboys who’ve just ridden their bicycles to the ice cream shop and saw a big fat sign that said “FREE! Free cones for anyone who can pull a wheelie!” But no, standing before me are two grown-ass men smiling at a tied-up, shaken, and snotting twenty-one-year-old woman.
Jasper’s curious eyes take me in. His smile, surrounded by a gruff layer of stubble, makes my spine curl.
I shift my gaze to his accomplice, who clears his throat.
He is tall and broad, and his white teeth gleam like pearls against his dark skin.
While Jasper appears to be in his mid-twenties, I’d guess Chief is in his forties.
Both men hold power in their stances, with shoulders drawn back and feet firmly planted.
Jasper stands behind Chief, a small gesture that tells me who’s in charge. Chief will make the calls today.
Guns are strapped into holsters at the sides of both their hips. I can’t say what kind, as my experience with guns is zilch, but I do know that guns mean business. I also know that guns could introduce me to my maker in two seconds flat.
A single tear rolls down my cheek as I tell my family goodbye.
And still, they stare. They smile. They say nothing.
Brownish goo drips from the ceiling.
Plink.
My heart beats in my chest.
Thump.
The chair groans beneath me.
Creak.
I close my eyes and, though the movement strains my bound wrists, press my middle fingers into my palms.
Plink, thump, creak.
Breathe.
Fuck this. I can’t take it anymore. Listening to Mrs. Patty hoot and holler about Jesus was more bearable than this.
“Are you going to chop me up into tiny pieces and store me in a freezer somewhere?” I suck in a quick breath, regretting the words as they spill off my tongue.
Maybe I do need Jesus.
The two men exchange a brief look, sniggers slipping from their mouths.
Chief takes a small step toward me, saying, “No freezers around here, young lady.”
“My name,” I repeat, my voice shaking. “Call me by my name.”
“Kota.” He clasps his hands together. “Lovely name. You can call me Chief.”
“Name or title?”
“Both,” he says. “I understand you’re scared, Kota, and that you’ve been taught to despise us.
” He shrugs. “That’s just fine. If snark and slander ease your mind, you’re welcome to send insults my way.
As long as you refrain from reaching for this gun at my hip, you have nothing to be afraid of. You are safe.”
I haven’t been safe in three years.
“I’ve never held a gun,” I say. “Today’s certainly not the day I try to change that.”
“Very good.” The nod he gives to Jasper is so small that, if I had anything else to pay attention to in this gray room, I would have missed it.
I gulp.
I don’t trust this guy as far as I could throw him. And I couldn’t—throw him.
Jasper’s footsteps echo throughout the room. As he walks around behind me, the skin on the back of my neck prickles. The fresh smell of lavender washes over me. Bar soap.
The audacity.
I haven’t bathed in a week.
Jasper places his hands on the back of my chair, far too close for comfort. I lean forward to get as far away from him as possible, but the action is pointless. Jasper has full control over what happens next. A fact I’m sure he is all too aware of.
I’ve always had a slow heart rate—the doctors told me that was why I was such a good swimmer.
I liked to think I won swim races because of my hard work, but maybe it all came down to genetics.
Maybe everything comes down to luck of the draw.
In any case, if the doctor checked my pulse right now, I think he’d be shocked at how fast my heart is racing.
A bead of sweat drips down my neck. I whimper. My rational mind believes Jasper will untie me, but a small voice in the back of my head—one that sounds a lot like Zara—says he’s going to shoot me. That tinny voice grows louder and louder until it’s all I hear.
“Don’t shoot me,” I beg. “Please. Please let me go.”
Jasper’s closeness tickles the back of my neck. As I prepare to reverse headbutt him, the sharp sound of metal on rope makes me pause.
“Didn’t shoot you the first time we met,” Jasper says.
“And I’m not going to shoot you now.” My wrists pulse as blood rushes back into them.
I wring them out and massage the red abrasions.
“But you’re also not going anywhere.” Jasper walks in front of me and sheathes his knife. “Eyes up here, Kota.”
I’m alive. I’m alive.
Chief takes another step toward me. I curl my toes in my shoes and try to keep my spine straight.
I will not cower before my enemy.
My family, my home, my friends, they’re all gone. But I will not let him take my strength.
Thighs shaking, I stand up.
Chief cocks his head and takes a deep breath. “You’re probably wondering why you’re here.”
“Spot on.”
“Let me start by saying this: You’re not here by mistake. Your boyfriend unwittingly helped us out—tremendously, I might add—but that was purely serendipitous.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I say, as if that’s what matters right now.
Jasper looks at Chief. “Guy’s a total asshat,” he says. “I’d venture to guess she’s no longer loyal to him.”
I glare at Jasper. Who is he to make assumptions about me? And why is he right?
Chief says, “Ah. An unexpected turn of events, but highly beneficial.”
A laugh bubbles in my chest. “If you think that Peter’s behavior will make me more agreeable to whatever it is you’re up to, you’re wrong.”
“Perhaps,” Chief says. “But what if I told you that your people have broken our treaty?”
“My people? There’s no way.”
“How well do you know Chandler, your leader?”
“Well enough to know she wouldn’t do whatever it is you’re accusing her of.” Chandler doesn’t live by the book. She is the book.
Chief’s eyes bore into my own. “Chandler has taken two of our men.”
“Proof?”
“We have it.”
“Then show me.”
“I understand your hesitations.” I don't react to Chief's placating words. They won't work on me. “Loyalty runs deep. Chandler, unfortunately, is not the person you think she is. Give me two days, and you will understand everything.”
“What happens in two days?”
“A trade.”
A weighty pause fills the air as I absorb what he’s saying. “You kidnapped me for collateral. Is that what you’re getting at?” Chief nods. “Even if your insane theory is true—which I doubt it is—you’d only get one of your men back. Chandler believes in equality.”
Uniformity fosters unity.
Chief scoffs. “Nonsense. No, Miss Kota, I think you’re more important to Chandler than you think.”
“How do you even know who I am, let alone how important I am?” Have they been watching me? Have they infiltrated Egal? “And you’re wrong—I’m highly replaceable. Not that it even matters. In Egal, equality trumps all else.”
Chief tsks his tongue. “Who else in Egal knows the supply routes like the back of their hand? Who else knows the codes to get in and out of the Split? Who else knows where the food is stored, and exactly how much of it there is?”
I still don’t believe him. How Chief received this information about Egal’s operations, I may never know, but anyone could have my job as driver. I’m not important. Period.
I ask, “What’s going to happen to me when Chandler doesn’t want me back? I have a family.”
Chief smiles. “Fear not, Kota, you will be reunited with your family. Think of this as a little vacation.”
I look around the room, waving my arms a bit for dramatic effect. “Hold up. Is this . . . Are we . . . are we in Fiji?”
Jasper laughs.
“Welcome to Macoby,” Chief says, interlacing his fingers. “Is this everything you imagined?”
“And so much more,” I say dryly. “You said two days. You’re not leaving me in this room until then, are you?”
Chief offers me his hand, but I don’t take it. I don’t need his hand to stand on my own two feet.
Stars crowd my vision. My knees buckle, my lower back aches, and my tailbone throbs. But I stand tall, chest proud, and look Chief in the eye. Little sparkles dance in his pupils. He’s beaming.
Chief says, “The horrors beyond the Split are enough to keep you inside our territory, I imagine.”
I nod. No reason to argue there.
Chief turns to his right-hand man. “No, we will not keep you prisoner here. Rest assured, you will be closely watched. Greeley will house you.”
“On second thought,” I say, walking backward. “I’ll stay here. I don’t mind sleeping on the floor.”
“Told you she’d react this way,” Jasper mutters.
“Then why didn’t you offer to house her?”
“You promised Greeley knives,” Jasper says. “I’ve got plenty. So does Greeley, admittedly, but—”
This square gray room is looking nicer by the minute.
“Really,” I say. “Happy to stay here. This metal chair will do wonders for my posture.”
“You’re not staying here,” Chief says. “But I will leave the choice in your hands, Kota. Would you prefer to stay with Greeley or Jasper?”
Oh, so you’re giving me a “choice” to make me feel like I have autonomy. I see what you’re doing here, Chief.
Since I can’t say what I really want, which is neither, I pick the lesser of two evils.
“Jasper,” I say. He may be dangerous, but at least he’s not psychotic.
“No,” Jasper responds, his voice steely.
Chief keeps his gaze on me. He says, “Peanut butter,” then turns toward his subordinate. Jasper’s body stills completely. “Would you do it for peanut butter?”
Jasper bites his lower lip and flicks his eyes to me. I stare back.
“How much?” he asks.
“A sixteen-ounce jar. Sealed.”
“Does it happen to be—”
“Chunky? Indeed.”
Jasper groans, closes his eyes, and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fine. You have a deal. She can stay with me for two days—but not a second more.” Jasper’s eyes find mine again, and he points a finger at the space between us. “You.”
“Me.”
“Come with me. And you.” Jasper points at Chief. “I want that sixteen-ounce jar delivered to me by five o’clock.”
“It will be waiting on your doorstep.” Chief’s gaze sends a chill down my spine. “And that, Miss Kota, is what we in Macoby call a successful trade.”