Ryker finishes making my drink, sets it before me, and finds his own chair. Near Axel. It’s like a deposition scene inSuits, when it’s clear the little guy has already lost.
Out there, it was family, fun, and chaos.
In this room, it’s them. And me.
Mercy lobbed a stern, warning leer at her husband before he led me in here, but I’m not holding my breath that it had any effect on the trajectory of this meeting.
“You’ve had quite the day,” Axel begins. “We know the risks of what we do, but that’s the kind of call we never want to get.”
“I’m sure it was terrifying to hear Maddox was in danger like that. I can’t imagine—”
“It was terrifying to hear of you both in danger,” Ryker interrupts to correct me.
“Of course,” I reply, not sure what his point is because the energy in here is anything but kumbaya. “I appreciate that. You all take excellent care of us—the employees.”
Axel studies our exchange, ruminating on something and tapping on the file in front of him. “Speaking of your employment, do you want to know why I hired you?”
“Sure.” I nod, shocked that he even remembers that; he’s undoubtedly been in countless interviews since he took over nearly two decades ago.
He opens the file in front of him, sifting through some papers. “We do recon on anyone who applies, but those who are persistent—multiple applications, urgency to be seen, et cetera—get a full background check. As you can imagine, it’s not far-fetched to have an enemy scheme to be on the inside.”
“I’m sure it isn’t.” I sip my drink, wondering where this is headed. Do they think I’m a spy?
“Your file caught my eye. Good family. Strong-willed. Persistent. Impressive art portfolio.” He casts a grin at me, as if we share a secret. “That wasn’t enough to take a chance on you though. We passed up an applicant list a mile long, full of relatives of our hardworking employees, who could be vouched for.”
Unsure how to respond, I simply bob my head so it’s clear I’m following along.
“It was this.” Axel waves a slip of paper in front of him. “Theft of a classic car at the age of fifteen.”
My stomach plummets. Those records are sealed. I was charged as a minor, and it was messy. I guess it’s not surprising the Noires could obtain sealed records, but the motivation is fuzzy.
“I’m not following. You hired me because I had stolen a vintage convertible at the age of fifteen and took it for a joy ride?”
Ryker chuckles, rolling his dice around his palm. “The visual alone is impressive, but that’s not the direction Axel was going with it.”
“You were offered immunity.” Axel stares at me expectantly, but I don’t permit my face to betray anything. “All you had to do was give the others up. But you refused.”
“Yes,” I admit because it’s apparent he’s done his research.
Ryker leans back in his chair, scrutinizing me through a laden pause. “Why did you steal that car?”
The reason is complicated and one I pondered for months afterward—or years really. But that night, it’d felt simple.
I’m not going to divulge anything I don’t have to though, so I deflect. “You seem to know everything that happened, Axel. Why don’t you share why I stole that car?”
He chuckles, glancing at Ryker for a beat before returning to me. “Because your sister was about to get caught sleeping with ateacher and you knew it would fuck up her future. So, you stole a car as a diversion, but you got caught quickly. The prosecution tried to dangle freedom in front of you, but you wouldn’t take it.”
He’s circling very close to the whole truth. Not all of that could have come from those sealed records.
Eden went to a party at a friend’s house. She never went anywhere fun. It was late spring of her senior year, so my parents were fine with it. I had been bored to tears that night, so I stowed away in her back seat. After she went into the house, I climbed out. A couple of girls I wasn’t really allowed to hang out with were there. We wandered around the neighborhood and stumbled upon a lot with a small warehouse that was used to store classic cars. I loved old cars.
The rolling door was halfway open, and a few were parked outside. There was a 1965 Alfa Romeo Spider with the top down. Bluish gray. Mint condition. So pretty. We prowled around it and found the keys lying on the passenger seat. They’d likely fallen from the visor. One of the girls suggested we take it. I blew her off. I was adventurous, but not interested in grand theft auto. She taunted me for several minutes, attempting to bully me into it, but all that did was make me think less of her. If there’d been any temptation to take that car, it was gone.
Eventually, we walked back toward the party, and passing by a house a few doors down from it, the other girl noticed something else. Mr. Stewart, the calculus teacher, was inside. Making out with someone. I knew exactly who he was with when my eyes found them through the window. My heart accelerated so fast that I could feel it everywhere. In an instant, my whole world was flipped upside down. The kids with me started to speculate who it could be and wanted to creep closer. I told them to stay put and I’d look. I went right up to that window until I was confident my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me. Eden wasnaked and sprawled out beneath him. She shook her head at me, a plea not to rat her out.
But I was pissed. Mostly at the teacher. At her too though. I banged on the window so he knew he’d been caught. He jumped off Eden and glared, both of them bare before me.
That’s when I heard the girls behind me.
