Walker flops onto his bed, his head in his hands. “She could barely walk, and Trips was angry and attentive, which means they aren’t hiding from his family anymore. But Jansen couldn’t get to her—the guard went into the bathroom with her. And while I’m not sure what went down in there, because Jansen wasn’t making sense, I know she didn’t get what we brought. All Jansen could say about her was that she’s ‘purple and blue.’ When I got him back here, he collapsed on the floor with tears and no more words.” He looks up at me, shadows in his eyes. “She was wearing a pink sundress. So...”
Rage, sharp and searing, spikes through me. “Bruises?”
He nods. “It would explain how she was moving.”
“Why the fuck didn’t Trips protect her?” I know I’m yelling, but I’m not sure I care.
“What if he couldn’t? You remember he said he gets locked up when his dad decides he’s out of control?”
“They were supposed to pretend they were nothing to each other.”
“I think they were found out.”
I’m pacing, unable to keep the tension in, marching across the room and opening windows to let the acrid scent of Walker’s paint out. “Why?”
“Because Trips was openly caring, RJ. And Clara’s dad said that they were evicted.”
“When did you talk to her dad?”
“This morning, after our swim.”
“Fuck.” I stand braced against the window, so angry I feel like my skin is boiling, but wholly constrained by the plan. I love my sisters, but if this is the price, I’ll give them up today. “Fuck,” I yell, not caring that I probably sound psycho and unhinged.
Because I am. Completely unhinged.
I spin back to Walker. “And Jansen couldn’t get to her?”
He shakes his head.
“But then…”
Walker nods, and we share the weight of what that could mean.
I’m moving again, wishing this room was bigger, less crowded with furniture, forging printers, and art supplies.
“So, what then?”
Walker rubs his hands down the sides of his pants. “Then we try again. Tomorrow, you can attempt a hand-off.”
“And the guards? You really think they won’t recognize me?”
“RJ, when did you last look in the mirror?”
This halts my pacing. “Don’t make me guess right now, Walker.”
“You’ve got a full beard. Your hair is longer and in a style you’ve never had before. Wear somebody else’s clothes, and I don’t think they’ll flag you.”
I run my hand along my jaw, the scruff there having accumulated so slowly over the last few weeks that it hadn’t registered. Shaving took time I could better use getting everything set up for the rest of the plan. “I haven’t been practicing.”
“Then we’ll do drills. Maybe it will get Jansen up and moving.”
I huff out something that would be a laugh if I were any less worried about the guy. “We need to bring him in. I don’t care if he doesn’t want help. He needs it.”
“Agreed. But I’ve got class in twenty. Why don’t you work on him, and we’ll take him when I get back?”
This is the last thing we need. The last thing I want to do. But I’m part of this team, so I need to keep acting like it. “I’ll check on him once I’ve calmed down,” I say as Walker loads up his bag and ushers me out of his room.
The front door clicks, and I stumble into my room, or cave, as Walker would probably describe it. And perched in front of my set-up, I start with the most important thing: seeing how far my man-in-the-middle attack has made it into the Westerhouse network. Because without all the information, the rest of the plan is a guess at best.
