RORY: I’M YOURS
My world was closing in.
Before the call, my biggest worry had been the flyers. They kept showing up in random places: on a light pole between Camden Place; at my work; on the door of the recreation room; another one on the door of my building. There was never any written threat attached, although it was implied all the same. They were watching, reserving the right to exterminate me at their convenience.
Everything changed once Nikki’s warning call came in to Grace. The threat was no longer directed specifically at me. The mention of Patty, the foster mom I’d wanted to go home to all those years ago, was Nikki’s way of telling me they knew about the McKallisters and that it was no longer just me I was fighting to save. It was them, too. I needed to find Nikki. After what happened in the alleyway, I didn’t trust her at all, but I couldn’t affordnotto trust her either. I called the number back, the one she’d used to contact Grace, but it went to a homeless shelter, giving me no way to track her down.
And Grace. No matter what happened now, she would get hurt. There was no way around it. She already didn’t trust me, Nikki’s call having driven a wedge between us as only my foster sister could do. It killed me to see that look in her eye. She was suspicious of Nikki—jealous, even—and I really couldn’t blame her. We were what I’d said we were, foster siblings, but there was more to us than that, and to tell Grace the truth about Nikki meant I would have to open up my life to her in a way I wasn’t ready for. Not yet. Probably not ever.
And so, my world continued to shrink.
The threats too big to ignore, I stopped going to work. I crammed my backpack full of essentials and stopped going to my apartment. Those first two nights after the message arrived I spent at the McKallisters, making lame excuses for why I couldn’t go back. The third night, I slept on the streets. Tonight, I expected, would be more of the same. It was as if I’d made a full circle, back to where I’d started, with rats nibbling at my toes.
It became clearer by the day that I would need to call Dutch and tell him everything. He might want to use me for his own benefit, but at least he had a vested interest in keeping me alive. I’d tell him about the threats and the flyers and the significance of the phrase. About Nikki’s call and my connection to the McKallisters. Witness protection seemed my only way out of this. If I disappeared into another life, the McKallisters would be safe in theirs.
There was no other way. I just had to make it to Friday, and then I would call Dutch and set things in motion. With the plan in place, I intended to spend my last two days with Grace and her family, making what last memories I could with them before my whole life, my entire identity, was erased.
That was before the text came in. Before my world didn’t just close down around me, it slammed the fucking door.
* * *
We need to talk
The text was from Jake.I didn’t even know he had my number, but I supposed someone like him could easily get it. I wasn’t sure which of the two messages was more chilling, Grace’s call informing me that Martin was on the hunt or Jake’s cryptic text message, but there was little doubt in my mind the two were connected.
Since I was at the McKallisters when his text came in, I angled my phone away from Grace and typed each letter with dread.
Rory
About what?
Jake
In person. Where are you?
At your parents’ house
Stay there. I’ll text when I’m outside the gate
No part of that exchange eased my fear. Whatever he had to talk to me about was important enough that he’d interrupt his regularly scheduled program to tend to me. The gravity of the situation hit me. My old life was colliding with my new, and there would be no co-mingling.
* * *
Jake
Here. Just you. Not Grace
I was numb;could hardly move. Whatever he had to say I wouldn’t like. This was it. The end of everything. Camden Place. The band. The McKallisters. Grace. It had all been for nothing.
Slowly, I unfolded myself from Grace’s arms, sliding to the edge of the sofa to allow the dread to pass through before rising to my feet.
“Where are you going?” Grace asked, her hand gliding along my arm and through my fingers before it fell off for good.
“I need to make a phone call.”
“To that company?”
I could see the irritation drawing her lips into a fine line. To be clear, her issue wasn’t with the ‘company’ itself but with its ‘receptionist’ Nikki. My sister had always lacked social skills, but I could only imagine how much worse they’d become since she’d taken to sucking dudes off in the streets.
