Fake it ‘til you make it. Every new identity is a chance to try out a different persona until I find the perfect one. I get to live hundreds of lives when most people only ever get one, be anyone that I want to be. My freedom may not look like I imagined it would, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t already experienced more than I once thought I’d ever be able to.
“I need the works. ID, birth certificate, social security card, etcetera. Bonus points for the phone number of someone that’s willing to improvise as a work history reference, but that’s not a necessity, especially depending on how much you charge.”
Pen racing across the page, Raiden asks, “And what sort of budget are we looking at?”
“Not my first rodeo, here, pal. You tell me the price, and I’ll tell you if I can afford it or not. Otherwise, you’re just asking for someone to bleed you dry.”
When he looks up, the corner of his lips curve into a small smile at odds with the faraway, sad look in his eyes. “I don’t do this for the money, Amara. At my age, I’ve got a good nest egg, and enough investments to sustain me indefinitely. Honestly, I’m happy to get you squared away on the house, but I’ve seen enough people in this line of business to know that offering something that sounds too good to be true scares people off, and they wind up in deeper trouble than they already were. So I toss out a random number I think aligns with their expectations after getting a read on them.”
Losing the battle of appearing collected, I rest my forearms on the island, tapping a steady rhythm with the side of the blade tightly clutched in my hand against my bottle of water. “If that’s true, then why tell me instead of giving me a price?”
“Because the only thing that you expect is to get fucked over.” Raiden rolls his pen between his fingers, watching me with a neutral expression. “If I go too low, you’ll suspect the worst. If I opt too high, you’ll simply thank me for my time, walk away, leave the city before you’re ready now that Kodiak and I know about you, and you’ll wind up in a far worse situation relying on someone thatwilltake advantage of the rough spot you’re in. The truth seemed like it might be a welcome change of pace for us both.”
After a moment’s hesitation, he unties the leather band in his hair, the dark mass falling free as he tosses it across the counter. Half-expecting it to burn me, I slowly drag it closer to inspect, barely able to make out the worn and faded stitching.
Come home safe.
When I look up, the intensity Raiden’s staring at me with is enough to have me mentally cataloging the nearest exits. “My baby sister made that before I left to fight in yet another pointless war for men that convinced me I was protecting our families. Every night I looked at it, my reminder of what I thought I was fighting for. When I finally returned home, our parents were dead, our home was little more than rubble, and my sister was gone.”
My heart skips a beat, and I clench the blade so tightly that I’m amazed the hilt hasn’t shattered.
With a humorless laugh, he retrieves another bottle of water from the fridge, leaning against the sink beside Kodiak and downing half of it before speaking again. “Turns out they wanted us gone so that we wouldn’t get in their way. The council decided it was in our society’s best interest to begin a breeding program, a better way to ‘utilize’ our women since there were so few and put them in contact with more men to appease those searching for their mates. Once found, he’d supposedly be able to claim and remove her from the program, as if she were to be used until some person she’d never met decided she shouldn’t be abused except by his hand anymore.”
When Raiden falls silent, Kodiak sets his empty bowl in the sink and picks up where he left off. “They figured by the time we returned, she’d already be pregnant, and too many men would support them after being-” that dark flash from before reemerges in his eyes, this time to stay. The longer I stare at the vertical slits of his pupils, the more dread settles in my gut. “Afterparticipatingin the program and reaping its benefits.”
My stomach roils, and it takes everything I have not to throw up. Malcolm is my own personal version of hell, but being locked away to be one obsessed psychopath’s plaything to torment sounds far better than what they’re describing.
Other people’s problems don’t lessen mine. Just because someone has it worse doesn’t magically make what I’ve suffered through any better, and it’s bullshit to pretend otherwise. I’m allowed to complain because it’smylife regardless of whose I compare it against.
While I take a deep breath to collect myself, my morally grey conscience chimes in with full support at how far I’ve come.You deserve to be happy. Never let anyone convince you otherwise; especially yourself.
“What did you do?”
At the timid sound of my voice, the intensity Raiden’s throwing off ebbs, and after another sip of his water, he has himself firmly back under control. “We killed them all. Every last one of the pitiful excuses that dared to call themselves men. Eventually we found my sister-” his lip twitches “- using a pile of charred corpses to barricade the door of the room they were holding her in. She was battered and bruised to high hell, and on the brink of starvation, but held her own until I got there.”
Avery flies in the room, taking her perch on Raiden’s shoulder. Setting his water bottle aside, he reaches up to pet her, tutting when she snaps her beak at Kodiak. “Behave.” Leaning his forearms on the counter, he clasps his hands in front of him. “So I hope you’ll believe me when I say that, doing this? It’s because I adamantly believe in the importance of it. Whether that’s helping shifters navigate the complexities of living in the digital age, or someone in trouble that needs to disappear, the fear I felt when I came home to nothing and no one set the course for the rest of my life. I don’t want anyone, human or otherwise, to be in a similar position to the one my sister was almost forced into.”
For several seconds, they both simply stare at me. Not rushing me for an answer, not begging me to swallow what could very well be a sob story meant to get my guard down; not asking for a single thing. They’re offering to help, but not shoving it down my throat. For once, I honestly believe that I could walk out of this place and neither of them would try to stop me, and that feeling is so foreign, it gives me my answer.
Releasing a heavy exhale, I finally nod. “A thousand dollars, then. It’s what I got from pawning all of the things that Avery brought me, so it’s practically yours, anyway.”
When I glance at Kodiak the previous shadows are nowhere to be found. “Told you, didn’t I?” he brags. “I’m a good judge of character.”
Raiden hums in contemplation as he makes a few notes, back into business mode. “It'll take me a few days to get everything in order. Will you be alright until then? I’m not sure exactly what sort of situation you’re in, but we have a spare room you’re welcome to while I get everything handled if you need it.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I’m not desperate enough to move in with a couple of guys that I don’t know.” Avery abandons him to come land on my shoulder instead, the two of us watching as Raiden continues to scribble. Mentally kicking my own ass, I can’t help myself from asking, “You're not going to push for details?”
“It’s none of my business.” Setting his pen aside, he rests his chin on his threaded fingers. “Unless there's something you think I should be aware of?”
Biting my inner cheek, I wrestle with my guilt, but ultimately, it wins out. It’s entirely possible that everything these men have told me is utter bullshit, but my instincts are squirming uncomfortably as well, so I’m inclined to believe they honestly are decent people that’ll regret meeting me.
“Someone may possibly be... looking for me. But as long as you keep your hands to yourself, it shouldn’t affect you.”
Rising to his feet, he grabs a camera from the top of the refrigerator. “Then let’s make sure whoever’s searching for you finds nothing but disappointment, shall we?”
