The penthouse has its own private elevator, so I ride down alone. But I must scare the hell out of the kid walking down the sidewalk, because he yelps and jumps out of the way as I step out of the building’s revolving door. Can’t blame him. My shirt is covered in blood, and I’m sure the rest of me isn’t much better.
But I only have a few seconds to apologize and reassure him I’m not on some homicidal tear before a sleek black sedan pulls up to the curb and the window rolls down.
“Morgan. Get in.” The authoritative order that comes from inside will not be denied, and I only have a second to catch a glimpse of horn-rimmed glasses and tightly braided cornrows before the window slides shut again.
April. Fuck. The last thing I need tonight is a run-in with SPAM’s official agent liaison.
But what choice do I have? I’m not even wearing shoes or socks, much less have a phone or wallet. Not like I can call a cab. Who would pick me up, anyway, looking the way I do?
I get into the car and it’s pulling back into traffic before I even have my seat belt done up.
“Looks like you’ve had a night,” April says dryly. I don’t answer. I haven’t spoken to April since I left SPAM. Not that we were ever buddies. But there’s a strong chance that if I try to say anything I’ll burst into tears and throw myself in her lap, and we’redefinitelynot close enough for that.
“How did you know to come?” I ask weakly, staring at my hands. The palms are crusted with blood. Jasper’s blood.
Her laugh is a short, hard thing, like a shard of ice in my chest.
“You think we don’t know where you are all the time? That you walked out of the SPAM doors and into obscurity?”
Oh, look. Here’s a fight no one would blame me for having. They’ve been tracking me for years. That’s such a gross invasion of privacy.
“It’s for your own protection,” she says, no doubt knowing exactly where my thoughts are leading. “You made it very clear you wanted nothing to do with us, and I can’t say I blame you. But I owe it to your mother to watch out for you, and when I saw you headed to Wolfe’s building tonight, I knew you wouldn’t have done that on your own.”
“What if I did?” I ask, bitterness creeping in my throat like ice. “Walter and I could be very close. He could have been fucking the living daylights out of me, and then you’d be pretty embarrassed right now.” The very idea of being in bed with Wolfe makes my skin crawl. I want to smash him to shards all over again. Jasper is the only one whose bed I want to be in, and he’s gone. Please don’t let it be for too long. I send up a silent wish to whoever or whatever keeps making me do this awful day over and over that they find a sinkhole or something to plummet me and April into so I can get back to Wench ASAP.
No such luck, though. April’s watching me with thin-lipped concern. I think about swinging the car door open and tumbling out into the street, but the odds of it killing me are slim, and road rash will only make this night extra painful for no reason.
“What were you really doing there?” she asks.
I should tell her. All of it. Jasper and I probably should have gone to SPAM instead of going to Ezekiel the other day. But they’re sneaky, April most of all. If I showed up with a wild story about a not-so-super blind date time loop, she’d have us both shut up in a lab or protective custody. If I tell her about what happened in Wolfe’s penthouse, what with the screaming and the freezing and the everyone dying, she’ll never let me walkaway again. That much power with no training is dangerous. I shudder at the very thought. I’ve suddenly become everything my mother could have ever hoped for, and I don’t want it. I want Jasper.
A tear runs down my cheek and I slap a hand over it, hoping to catch it before April notices.
I’m in so much trouble. More than I can handle on my own. But I can’t make it SPAM’s problem. The consequences are too high.
“I’m safe,” I say, wiping my face. “That’s what you were worried about, isn’t it? That I was in some kind of trouble? Well, I’m not.” I stare at my palms. The tear has wiped away some of the blood, which means it’s probably smeared on my face now. Not doing a great job of convincing April I’m okay.
She watches me silently for a minute longer before she says, “I’ll take you home.”
“No,” I say too fast. I can’t go home. I can’t show up looking like this and scare Ezekiel. He won’t remember in this version of today. I’ll have to explain it all over again and I just can’t. Not tonight.
“To the office?” April says.
I shake my head. Not SPAM either. Instead, I give her an address, and pretty soon we’re pulling in front of a nondescript house in a nondescript suburb.
“You can always call if you need anything,” April says as I climb out of the sedan. It’s probably the kindest thing she’s ever said to me. When I quit, her words were much more of the “Where the hell else is someone like you going to go?” variety. We were all hurting back then.
At the last second, right before I close the sedan door, I whirl and stick my head back inside.
“Walter Wolfe is dead,” I say. The immediate shock on April’s face is very satisfying. “And a bunch of his crew. And...” Istutter over the last part. “And a friend. He was innocent. You’ll find him outside on the patio. If you could...” The last part doesn’t come out as more than a strangled gasp, but April nods. I don’t want to be part of SPAM, but that doesn’t mean I can’t use their resources to help Jasper. I can’t leave him lying out there. April will send some agents, or maybe place a discreet call to the police to take care of it.
I close the car door quietly so as not to wake the sleeping family inside the main house and walk up the stairs to the garage apartment. My clothes, phone—the battery is dead, and when I try to boost the battery, all I get is a half inch of frost on the bottom of the screen—and keys are still by Jasper’s bed. I can’t bring myself to use his shower again, even though I need to get clean more than I need almost anything else right now. Instead, I strip out of his bloody clothes and throw them into a backpack hung by the door. No sense leaving them here where they’ll raise questions for his family. I borrow another T-shirt and slide into my pants.
The sun won’t be up for a few more hours, and Jasper’s mom and sisters must still be sleeping off their movie night, because the house is quiet as I climb into my SUV. As I put my foot on the brake, I glance at the empty windows behind me, and my eyes tear up. They’ll wake up sooner or later, and sometime after that, they’re going to wonder where he is. The lie of weird hours at the hospital might keep them from worrying for a while, but eventually they’re going to start asking questions, and when Jasper’s body is found with a bunch of dead mobsters, it won’t give them the answers they need. But I can’t face them. All I can do is add them to the list of people I’ve let down.
For the first time in forever, I take the day off. I’m exhausted. Numb. I shower until the water goes cold, which, given the undoubted size of the hot water tank at Ziro Hall, is a while. I trynot to cry as Jasper’s blood washes down the drain. No one sees me when I don’t succeed.
I sleep for hours. I dream about Jasper and my mother. Mother tumbles off the roof as I rush after her, but this time she flies. She has my hand in hers, and Jasper glides along beside her. I try to explain that there’s no way they’d know each other, but they don’t seem worried about the logistics. Then they fly off together, leaving me on the side of the road. I think my mother tells me to take the bus, but I’m half awake by then and possibly editorializing.
