“Excuse me?”
The way he said it sounded as if he thought I had the audacity to consider something so horrible.
I shrugged, like he had a few minutes earlier. “You’ve really done enough. You saved me way more than you needed and I appreciate it. I should probably get out of your way at this point.” Let’s not forget that Cyrus was a kidnap victim like me. He didn’t owe me anything extra.
I only wanted to get home and then call my mother. Not that I had any plans to tell her what happened. But I only had one parent who cared about me, and I didn’t want to send her to an early grave. Even if she knew I survived, finding out someone held her only daughter captive on a ship and then she had to flee across state lines by hitchhiking would be enough to put her in the hospital. She’d never recover.
“That’s a horrible idea,” Cyrus countered. The way he looked at me, you’d think I suggested we rob the cash register and make a run for it.
“What?” I stuck a chili cheese fry in my mouth and then searched the plate for another one, using Cyrus’s method of finding a small piece of uncovered fry. It was easier than making eye contact with him.
Because leaving him and going on my own made my heart extra thumpy. It clip-clapped, like an engine that missed a rotation. It puttered out once, flung back, and then started up again. Pieces of me did not want Cyrus to leave my side, but that wasn’t fair to him. He had a life to get back to as well.
“You need me to tell you the reasons it’s a horrible idea we separate?” Cyrus asked enunciating each word. When I didn’t answer, he continued. “This is the worst idea you’ve ever had, Imogen.”
The fry I chewed almost fell out of my mouth. “Wait a second,” I said, cutting him off. “This is like my only idea I’ve ever had.” He hadn’t known me long enough to judge my ideas and their badness.
He shook his head. “I’m holding you personally responsible for going to the police.”
Oh.
If he counted those things, I suppose he had a point.
Possibly.
I guess.
“Continue on,” I said, going back to my cheese fries.
“There are a million reasons, but the most important one is that these men know who you are and you know who they are. It’s very possible they’ll look for you. You’re a loose end they’ll want to tie up.”
“And how do they tie up loose ends?” I asked, even though I was pretty sure I knew how. The Al Capone knowledge was coming in too handy.
Cyrus tipped his head to the side and gave me a sad expression before swiping his thumb across his neck.
“That’s what I thought, but I’m still not your responsibility, Cyrus.”
He looked at me with sadness in his expression. “You might not consider yourself my responsibility, but I do. We talked about my brother and me, but I never told you about the women who inspired us to help others,” he said and I heard such sadness in his voice I stopped eating to pay attention.
“The women?” If this was the point where he admitted he was trying to make up from a woman he hurt by saving me, I was definitely finding an alternate ride home.
“It started in college by accident. We had this favorite waitress. She found herself in a terrible relationship and came into work one day black and blue. We used my brother’s forging skills to help her relocate, gave her a new identity, and provided her with enough money to get started.”
Definitely not what I expected him to say. I stared at Cyrus, quietly urging him to continue. His brother was a hacker and forger?
“After that, there were others. I’m not hundred percent sure how the original few found us, but we helped everyone who asked. New identities and seed money for a new life. Men who take advantage of women are the lowest scum on the earth. I want to help every woman who needs it. The ones that we have been able to help let me know we’re using our money and status for good in the world. People like Bernard who use women belong in jail.”
I wanted to reach across the table and grab Cyrus’s hand to give it a squeeze, but too many drinks and plates stood in the way. Instead, I nodded solemnly at him.
“But, Cyrus, don’t you see? I’m not one of those women you helped in the past. Things will be okay. I will be okay.” I hoped I sounded surer of it than I really was. In my attempt to make him feel better, my heart broke. I didn’t want Cyrus helping me because he found me weak. I thought we shared something more.
Didn’t he see I was kickass?
He shook his head. “It’s not that. Imogen, when I look at you, I don’t see a woman in need of help. You have to be one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. Look at what you have survived already. Most people would be in a corner crying, but you’re here picking through a plate of cheese fries, which is absolutely disgusting after eating sugary waffles, by the way.”
I dropped my gaze and shrugged. It wasn’t the time to judge someone for their food choices.
“Of all the women I’ve helped, you are the only one I want to see again tomorrow.”
