If he’d been within reach, Jonah would’ve punched him again. But it was as close to a mutual apology as either of them would probably get.
21
Caspian
Cas held a raspberry-colored Sharpie between his teeth, while the grape one in his hand squeaked against the glass as he wrote.
Outside, the rain was still falling, condensation turning the windows into a whiteboard for him to sketch out the thoughts knotted like a ball of yarn in his head. He’d been at it since Jonah left but was no closer to figuring out any answers. He stared at the list of names, his bare feet scrunching over the rug that used to be under the sofa before he’d shoved it out of his way to reach the glass behind. Now, he found himself staring at his dull reflection, wearing nothing but Jonah’s black sweatpants and the gray beanie he’d found in the bottom of his bag.
Annie had told Red that he was missing the forest for the trees, but he didn’t see how that helped him with anything.
He started from the beginning, inking every name onto the giant windows that made up the living room. He’d started high, standing on the top of the sofa; just writing out that many names had taken him an hour. His hand was cramping, but being able to step back and look at the list had felt like some kind of victory, until he realized it didn’t matter. None of these names were mentioned together. None. Staring at them in his old apartment hadn’t helped give him clarity. They meant nothing without context, context that somehow Annie had and he didn’t. So, what had Annie seen that he hadn’t?
That was the key.
He wished he could ask Red. The thought of Red with his flamboyant makeup and high voice used to make Cas laugh, but now it caused sadness to bubble up from within, tears pricking behind his eyes until he forced himself to shove it back down deep once again. He had no choice. Sad Cas wanted to wallow and watch Netflix until he was numb. He needed angry, vengeful Cas. The petty one. The one who was willing to cut off his nose to spite his face. That part of himself could be useful, could look at all of these names until his eyes bled. He needed to be that Cas for just a while longer.
He chose to focus on his irrational fury over Annie, a virtual stranger to Red, having possibly been the catalyst that got Red killed. She’d contacted him to set up the meeting with the ‘contact,’ the one who ended up being a pro. Had she known that? How did they know that drafted email meant anything at all? Why hadn’t she sent it? He couldn’t even ask. She and Red were both dead. Was Cas next?
In his last conversation with Red, he’d accused him of ambushing him and Jonah. It was the last thing he’d said. “Wait,” Cas said out loud to nobody, his voice startling in the silence. Annie had mentioned something about ‘only working when they were together’ in her email. He needed both lists.
Cas hurtled over the couch, reaching for his laptop before he’d finished bouncing onto the cushion.
Hacking Red’s system remotely took less than thirty minutes. There was only one reason that could be. Red had wanted Cas to be able to access his system. Once more, sadness gut-punched him, stealing his breath. Red had clearly been worried somebody would come for him to get to Cas. A watery smile formed when he saw the only thing on Red’s desktop was a photo of the DVD cover of Casper the Friendly Ghost.
With another couple of keystrokes, Cas had both files Red had embedded within the picture.
Jonah didn’t have a printer in the apartment, so Cas wrote the new list of names beside the old list and attempted background checks on every person on the list.
It only took ten names for Cas to realize that wasn’t going to work. These people didn’t exist. They were ghosts. Maybe they were a list of black ops soldiers? Spies? Or maybe they were nothing.
Cas growled. What the fuck was he missing? Annie had obviously put the pieces together, so why couldn’t he? Could the names be a code? An anagram? Did any of the names have letters in common? He chewed his thumbnail as he tried to find even one tiny snag that might turn into a thread he could pull.
Then he saw it. The first name on list one, Daniel Snowden, had the same initials as the fifteenth name on list two. He frowned. Could be just a coincidence. He scanned the names, realizing that no, it wasn’t a coincidence at all. He snagged a red sharpie and began matching up the names, his heart hammering in his chest, a thrill shooting through his blood.
When all the lines were connected, he leaned back, smiling, but that smile slipped away as he realized he was no closer to figuring out what any of it meant. Fuck. He slapped the box of markers off the back of the sofa, feeling slightly better as they scattered along the floor.
The sound of the key turning in the front door’s lock set off butterflies in Cas’s stomach. Cas turned to ask how it had gone with Madi and froze, the words dying on his tongue. It wasn’t Jonah, but a woman with a gun pointed center mass. His pulse began to pound in his ears as his gaze skirted to the gun he’d left on the small table to his right.
The woman smirked at him. “You’ll be dead before you hit the floor, babyface.”
Sweat broke out across Cas’s brow and upper lip. The woman was tall, easily as tall as Cas. Her long chestnut hair was pulled back in a severe-looking ponytail that brought her wide, Coke bottle green eyes into points like a cat’s. She even moved like a cat, prowling closer to Cas, her Ruger trained on him like it was an extension of her arm. She had perfect brows, long black lashes, and wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup. Tattoos covered both of her arms, which were bare from the sleeveless bar t-shirt she wore. Two enormous tattoos on each thigh were easily visible from her denim cutoffs and black Converse. She dressed like somebody who was late for homeroom, but she walked like she was used to stepping over corpses. Something about her smacked of familiarity, though Cas would surely have remembered her had they met before. A name floated to the forefront of his brain. “Sadie.”
“Where’s my brother?”
Sadie was an assassin. Like Jonah. Like Madi. Cas had only heard stories of her, though. She was the only person Madi talked about in whispers, like he was a Hogwarts student and she was Voldemort. Cas had wondered if Sadie was a real person or some urban legend meant to scare him into not asking any more questions about Jonah’s past or his family.
Cas didn’t answer.
“You’re Caspian. Where’s my brother?” she tried again, her words coming out like a heavy sigh.
“He went to Madi’s.”
That slowed her endless perusal of the small apartment. “I thought they’d stopped fucking.”
Cas’s mouth fell open. “He’s not over there to fuck Madi,” he snapped.
Once more, she fixed Cas with a look that made him feel like he was three steps behind in their conversation. “My bad, babyface. Didn’t mean to offend your delicate sensibilities. Does this mean my brother finally gave in to temptation, or are you still on his no-no list? Judging by those bruises on your hips, I’d guess the former.”
