Blitz (Emerald City/Black Family Saga Book 1) (9 page)

BOOK: Blitz (Emerald City/Black Family Saga Book 1)
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“She’s my sister,” he responds flatly.

And apparently one he doesn’t want to talk about. Shit. Way to step in it, Syd.

“You have a sister?” I swallow hard. “She’s beautiful.”

Ray smiles. “Sure is. Looks just like my mom—my biological mom. And, well, my aunt too, I guess. Her name’s Mariah. Twenty-one and a bit of a hellion.”

“Well, when do I meet her? She sounds awesome.”

He smirks and shakes his head. “She’s kind of a family secret. Well, not exactly. People know about her, we just haven’t seen her in a while. She left a few years ago and never came back.”

“Left?”

“Ran away. Long story.”

“Well, aren’t there people out there looking for her?”

“We tried. Came up empty. She’d just turned eighteen. Figured she didn’t want to be found.”

“Well, maybe I could help. I mean…this isn’t a bribe or anything, I just…I’m good at finding people, remember?”

“Yeah. Well, we’ve hired the best. And nothing.”

“Well that can’t be true. You haven’t hired me.”

Ray laughs, then his expression grows serious. “Just how good are you?”

“Good,” I say. “I know that doesn’t sound convincing, but I swear I am. If you want me to do it free of charge, I will. I could use the reference.”

“You’d really do that?”

“Sure.”

“You know what? You’ve got a deal Sydney Bucco.”

“Really? I mean, you’re serious? You’ll let me help?”

Ray stares at me for a few moments, then crosses his arms and turns his back. His shoulders rise and fall as he paces back and forth.

“Let’s make a real deal,” he says, turning his gaze on me again. “You help me find my sister and in exchange, I’m yours.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve proven yourself, as far as I’m concerned.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’ll sign with you.”

“Oh, my god. Are you serious?”

He nods. “I’ve spent time with your cousin and I gotta say you two are almost identical. I know I can trust you to deliver. I just know it. Reese…she’s a good person. I’ve known her a while now. She came to one of my first college games. Probably to scope out some other dude but she saw me struggling and told me how great I was going to be. She even got my autograph. No one else knows that. Just you now. And her. It made me feel like I could do anything. She told me at the time that I was going to go pro. Said she could see it in me. The determination. It’s almost like she knew me before I knew myself.”

“That’s Reese.”

“You’re a good person too. Offering to find my sister like that. With no strings attached. That’s what good people do. You’re genuine and I want to return the favor. So you help me find my sister and I’ll sign on the dotted line.”

“Wow, Ray…I—”

“You deserve it. I’ve admired you from the second you walked into that restaurant. I saw Reese all over you. You’re determined, hardworking, and I can smell your desperation.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You think I’m desperate?”
 

“Don’t get me wrong. It smells good. Everyone else…they just don’t have what you have. I can see myself working with you. For a long, long time. So do we have a deal?”

I force my mouth closed as I consider his words. This guy might just be crazy. I’m nobody. Not a legit P.I. and not even close to being an agent, yet he’s willing to risk his whole career.
 

To find his sister. Maybe I’m not the one who’s desperate.
 

I stretch my arm forward and he closes his hand around mine giving it a good pump. “Deal,” I say.

CHAPTER TEN
Ray

My heart is beating like I’ve run a hundred laps when I park my truck across the street from Sydney’s building. I sit in the driver’s seat, observing my eyes in the rearview mirror. I hardly slept last night. Between the lies I had to tell my family about my decision regarding Miss Clarke and the very real possibility that Sydney will be able to track down Mariah, my guilt and excitement kept me awake, staring at the moon rays on the ceiling.
 

I’m getting in too deep, I know. I can’t remember the last time I acted on an important decision involving without their approval or input.
 
Actually I can. It was UDub. And for the first few months, I thought I’d made the worst move ever. My game sucked compared to everyone else on the team, I was throwing up and passing out nearly every night from the intense practices, falling behind in classes, skipping meals and all for nothing. At the end of the day, I was still stuck on the bench waiting for my dream to finally take off. I’d finally decided to call it quits when I met Miss Clarke and everything started changing. She was dating the coach and defended me after a particularly humiliating lecture. Some guys might not have appreciated it, but it reminded me of home—of the woman who took me in when I needed her most. My aunt. My mom.

Ever since UDub, I’ve been too scared to leave my parents out of the loop. Mom is good at that stuff. She chose U of I, which being close to home would have given me the support I didn’t realize I’d needed. She chose to move to Woodinville a year later and I was never so grateful. She chooses everything.
 

I sigh. And Mariah? She chose to stop dealing with that headache too. She stopped a long time ago.

I open the door and step out onto the sidewalk. The brick building is covered in bay windows and trimmed in white and green. Next to it is a vacant lot and it is enclosed by a wrought iron fence. It’s a far cry from our quiet little ranch. And I am beginning to understand Sydney’s awe. We didn’t always live like that though. I had a pretty modest upbringing, but lately it’s hard to remember what that was like.

Sydney’s building is only three stories high and I find her apartment on the top floor—the last door on the right. Before I can knock, it swings open and she jumps back, eyes wide.

“You’re here.” She holds up an overstuffed plastic bag. “Garbage shoot. Then I’m all yours. Go ahead. Go in. Make yourself at home…ish.”

I nod and step inside. And that’s exactly what I feel. Home. It’s a studio apartment so there is only one other door. The bathroom, I’m guessing. Underneath a bay window is a tweed armchair with a pile of clothes in its seat. Against the far wall is a futon. It’s still spread out, adorned by tangled sheets and a half-eaten box of doughnuts. On the other side of the room is a corner desk that holds a desktop computer, a laptop, a phone, two cell phones and a printer. And that is all.
 

“Sorry.” Sydney re-enters the apartment. “The bed is totally jammed. Has been for months. That’s what you get for buying crap on Craig’s List. Here.” She grabs the armful of clothes from the armchair and tosses them onto the futon. “You can sit there.”

I ease into the seat and chuckle to myself as she scrunches a few lacy things, concealing them under the pile of clothes.
 

“So…uh…welcome to my home.” She waves an arm across the span of the room. “It’s not exactly glamorous. Nothing like your abode. But I make do.”

“I like it,” I say. “It’s…” So many things—humble, modest, cozy, simple. Just the way I like my life. “Nice.”

“Well, thank you. That means a lot coming from a guy who lives in a mansion.”

I laugh. “Oh, that’s not mine.”

“But you live there.” Sydney winks. “Who cares who it belongs to? Dude, you’ve got it made. I’d kill to live in a place like that.”

“No, I mean it’s not ours.” I don’t know why I’m telling her this. Some weird desire to validate my humble upbringings, maybe?
 

“What do you mean?”

 
“The house…um…it belonged to my father. He bought it for my mom when I was a baby, but we only got the chance to live there for a few months…anyway it was signed over to my grandparents. They wouldn’t step foot in it though. Anyway, when I got into the University of Washington, my mom convinced them moving there was a good idea. They’re still not on board. I only see them when we go out to Palouse to visit. They won’t come within ten feet of the place.”

Sydney crosses her arms, shifting on her feet in front of me. “Your dad died too?”

“It was a long time ago.”

She smiles lightly and runs her hand through her hair. “I actually thought your aunt was your mom. I mean you look so much like her. I had no idea your real mom was…”

I suck in a breath. “She is my real mom,” I say quietly, avoiding her gaze.

“No, of course. I just meant…”

“Really, it’s okay. It was all a very long time ago. I don’t even remember. They’re my parents. It’s just the way it’s always been. They adopted my sister and me when we were little.”

She shakes her head, her shiny hair cascading down her shoulders. “Still, it’s so awful…to lose a parent. Both? I can’t imagine.” Her gaze shifts to the wall behind me.

“Like I said, it was a long time ago. I mean growing up I thought about them constantly but the initial blow didn’t really knock me off my feet. I just remember things being different. We lived in a different house and there were a lot more people around all of a sudden. My grandparents, my great grandmother, Uncle Dave. Then Aunt Sheila.” I laugh. “I remember thinking she was my mom too. I must have thought it for the longest time.
 
I just thought Mom went away and came back. But then one day I called her Mama and she cried. I must have asked why but I don’t remember what they said.”

“How did it happen?” she asks, her voice barely audible.

I shift in my seat. I don’t have the conversation with many people. It used to be that it was too weird to talk about. As I got older, I realized it wasn’t just weird it was kind of embarrassing. The things I should know that I don’t. The questions I should have asked but now can’t.
 
“It was…a car crash. It took them both at the same time.”

A little gasp escapes Sydney and the room goes completely silent. Why did I have to bring this crap up? She’s a private investigator for god sakes, it’s not like she can’t figure out the truth if she wanted to. Then what will she think of me? The guy who lied about his parents’ death—that’ll go over well.
 

I open my mouth to backtrack, but she’s suddenly sitting on the arm of the chair next to me, her hand on my shoulder, stroking back and forth in a way that makes it impossible to concentrate.

“Even if it was forever ago, it still sucks. And I’m still sorry.”

“Thanks.”
 
What the hell is she working some kind of sorcery? All of a sudden I’m hot as hell. I just hope the blush isn’t showing on my face. “Anyway,” I continue, after a few moments, desperate to relieve the awkwardness. “I grew up in Sagle, until I came here for college. My parents wanted to be close by so they moved into the house. My dad started preaching at this local church and the rest is history.”

“So technically, the house is yours.” Sydney wiggles her eyebrows. “I mean, not that it matters in the grand scheme of things, but if your dad—your bio dad—bought it for your mom—for your family—it belongs to you and your sister.”

“I guess, technically it does.”

“All right,” she throws her hands up. “Let’s get this over with.” My head evenly meets her chest and my stomach starts to swirl.

“What?” I ask, my heart skipping a beat.

“Stand up,” she urges, and pulls me by the arms. She places her hand flat on my chest, just above my pecs then grabs mine and places it in the same spot on her. “When I was thirteen, I had a friend whose mom died of cancer. We were pretty much best friends until that happened. Like inseparable. Then everything changed. And she started hanging out with Freddie Schwartz. Of all people. I seriously thought that guy was a freak. Anyway, I was insanely jealous. I couldn’t understand why the one friend I had, the best friend in the whole world, would just ditch me like that. She’d already lost her mom, why did she want to lose me too? So one day I just confronted her. It was years later. I must have been about sixteen at the time. And you know what she told me? She said, ‘it isn’t personal, Syd. You just don’t get it. You have a mom and dad. Freddie and I only have one of each. He gets it. And I’m sorry but you just don’t. We’re a part of the same club’.”

My heart pulses hard in my chest. “Is this an initiation?” I ask with a smile.
 

“You bet. You know how long I’ve waited to meet someone to join my godforsaken club? Two very long years. And as angry as it made me at the time, she was right. No one else gets it. Welcome to the Sydney B Dead Parents Club.” She scrunches her nose and shakes her head slightly. “You know I think I’ll have to work on that name. And a handshake or something. Let me know if you have any ideas.”

“Will do.”
 

She pats my chest and winks at me. Walking over to her desk, she plops down on the wheeled office chair. “Alright, I’m going to get started over here. Did you bring the stuff I asked for?”

“What about you?” I ask. “What happened to your dad?”

Sydney shrugs. “Oh, please. I can’t top that.”

I stand there for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Things feel open ended. Raw. Unhealed. I just opened up like chick about my family and my losses—sure it wasn’t the complete truth, but is she really just going to leave me hanging?

“Ray?” She interrupts my thoughts. “You did bring the stuff, didn’t you?”

I nod. “Right here,” I reach into my back pocket and pull out a folded piece of paper.
 

Sydney takes it from me, then opens her laptop and flips on the desktop.
 

“What is all this?”
 

“All what?” She smooths the paper out and lays it on the cluttered desk. She starts stabbing away on her keyboard, glancing every so often at the information I’ve written.

“You have two computers, three phones, and a printer. Isn’t that a bit much?”

Sydney giggles. “Probably, but I’m a techie. And this really isn’t that impressive. You know, most households have at the very least two of each of these absolutely necessary electronics. My landline is what’s considered old fashioned these days. But when it comes to my line of work, I can’t take the risk of being cut off due to battery loss. Then again there’s electricity, but that’s what the cell phones are for.
 
One of these is a burner. The other one’s my permanent line. I need a laptop for mobility and the desktop to do multiple searches. If could afford it, I’d get a tablet and this set up would be far more high tech, I’d be using equipment you’ve never even heard of.”

BOOK: Blitz (Emerald City/Black Family Saga Book 1)
9.18Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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