Break Me Open (20 page)

I had Trig let me off just at the edge of the district. Near where his club had come roaring into my life.

"You sure you'll be alright?" he asked.

He looked deeply concerned behind his facial hair. That vaguely troubled look he wore so often was making it increasingly harder to believe that this was the guy who had been sent to gun me down.

"I grew up here. I'll be fine."

He nodded and roared off, deeper into town. He lived not too far from here, he'd mentioned. With a druggie sister. The club was her supply. It was kinda sad, but I wasn't near comfortable enough to share that opinion. Heck, asking for a ride into town itself had been a bit hasty. There were things I needed to get, though, if I was going to stay up at the Oasis. Better sooner than later.

I found my way to a bus stop. I didn’t fit the demographics for this part of town, but no one seemed to notice or pay me much attention. I thought I saw a few people glance at my neck then look away quickly. Maybe I wasn't as out as place as I'd hoped.

The bus wound us deep through gridlike streets. Industry cleared out for commerce. I took a transfer and headed for the part of town where I lived. I had an eye out for wanted or missing posters of me, but there were none. I guessed it was far too soon for that. Somewhere by main street, we passed a patrol car, and when the officer driving glanced up through his shades, I quickly grew interested in the inside of the bus. A part of me though - a little part - wanted to turn and see if he knew who I was. I wasn't sure I knew anymore

Ghost might not approve of me being out here, but I could handle myself. Just cause he had saved my butt didn't mean I was going to hide while he put himself into even more danger. Who knew what the FBI were doing to him right this moment. Would he come back? For all this new confidence I felt, it faltered when I thought about what could happen to him.

I got off the bus, but wound through my neighborhood towards the back entrance. That was probably safe enough to avoid being recognized. It was midday, and you didn't venture out midday in Gilsner until you had to. I was also hidden under a Wraith's jacket. By the time I clambered onto the back porch, my body was sweaty and uncomfortable enough to probably not look like me.

I wavered in the kitchen, trying to decide between creeping through the house and getting in and out quickly. It didn't seem likely that anyone would be waiting around for me to show up. I wasn't a suspect or anything. Even if I was being hunted, Ghost had mentioned there were just a couple FBI in town. They couldn't just sit around my house hoping I'd show.

But they may have bugged the place or something. Or they could have just asked the neighbors to keep an eye for movement. I didn't really know what tools they had. It was better to make sure they didn't have time to put them to use.

I ran upstairs to my room. My books lay scattered across my bed where I'd left them. It was odd to see how undisturbed my life had been not so long ago. Everything seemed so still and silent. The whole house seemed to echo with the sound of nothing. No wonder Sandy had tried to drag me out whenever possible. It must have always been like this since my parents had died. Being with Ghost and around the bustle of life at The Oasis let me see it with stranger's eyes.

I worked through the new feeling as I shoved my books into a bookbag. I decided to put some clothes in there too. Ghost had got me a couple tees while we were on the lam, but looks weren't a priority. Especially given how much time I spent not wearing anything.

Of course, none of my stuff really fit life around the bar either. I couldn't exactly walk into a place full of leather wearing a summer dress. I found room for one anyway. It was an azure blue and I liked the color. I made sensible choices on the rest, settling for more tees, and a few pieces of lingerie that I thought Ghost would enjoy tearing off. I even found a leather skirt that I had gotten god knows when, with the price tag still on. That could go with my new colors.

The books and the clothes were all I'd come to get, but I lingered, trying to rifle through anything else I had, feeling like I was looking through some collection at a museum. I took a few things from the bathroom, then wandered into the master bedroom. The air felt so thick it might have been solid. I almost never came in here except on my parent's anniversary. It really was a museum exhibit. I paced the bed remembering other times I'd done so on shorter legs. The bedside stands held photos of the three of us from when I’d still had baby teeth. That seemed appropriate to carry with me, but it didn’t seem right to bring into my new life.

In the end, the pictures stayed on the dusty stand. I eased their bedroom shut and went back to mine. The backpack threatened to topple me over when I put it on, but it still didn’t seem enough. Half my books still lay on the bed.

I glanced through one, an exotic animal physiology text that I'd got for an optional class. In my first year at vet tech school, Gilsner had been abloom with the story of Mal Nixon, a rich local crackpot, who had been found to be keeping a live African lion in his mansion. The poor thing had been hidden in a dark basement. They’d tagged it and taken it to a zoo in Phoenix, but not before it killed Nixon and escaped on its own.

I was deep in my funk back then, but the incident had made me consider working as vet tech in a zoo, something which would have meant leaving Gilsner - completely unthinkable to me at the time. Buying this book had been a mild act of optimism, that one day, I might be in a state to consider it. I flicked through the pages and saw the side view of a lion’s insides. A callout on the page focused on the animal’s eyes. Under the cross-section of the pupil, there was a smaller photo of how they looked looming at you out of the African savannah at night.

I shivered in the warm air. Twin blue beams looming out of the darkness. Just like Ghost's eyes. More than once it had made him look like a nocturnal predator. Maybe I really was onto something.

Bio augmentation, he had called what they had done to him. I'd pressed for details but he didn't have them. Just that it was a combination of genetic alterations and direct surgery.

Suddenly, the purpose of this visit changed. I dumped out half my class books and replaced them with biological ones. Chemistry, medicine, genetics. Forget classes. I was going to figure out what Ghost really was, deep down inside. Someone had to. For this new goal though, my collection was paltry. A vet tech didn't really need all that much detail on the why of how a body worked, just the how. I could get some more at the school library, but fat chance of not being spotted there.

It took me just a couple of moments to remember that Sandy would be able to sneak them out just fine. But could I trust her? She had been my rock for so many years, but she wasn't alone in that category now. Who knew how she felt about the guy who had literally stolen her best friend away? I sat around for a while, feeling more anxious the longer I stayed. It wasn't exactly paranoia - there was a chance I was spotted. I had to decide and decide quick.

Then it hit me. If I was afraid of being found, then maybe I should send them looking in the wrong place. I whipped out my phone, turned it on and texted Sandy.

"Heya, I need some help. Can you get some stuff to me at my house?"

I added a list of books that I wanted. I flicked it off, and then bolted down the stairs. If they really were tracking my phone, they could come here, but I wouldn't be home.

I paused at the backdoor and breathed the place in one last time. Whatever weirdness I felt, it was still home. And one day, I would be back here. Making some changes, that was for sure.

I wound back the way I had come. Waiting for the bus here, in the "nice" part of town, turned out to be way more tense than the wait for the ride here, but just like before nothing happened.

I took a different bus. We passed back through the center of Gilsner, past its main street with every other storefront shuttered with cardboard, out and past a bunch of near-empty public parking lots. Almost before we rolled out into the desert, we turned and entered a street full of ranch houses built of frayed wood. Sandy's part of town. I got out.

I'd never really felt unsafe in Sandy's place before, but it was way different from where I’d grown up. This time, walking past the front lawns covered with broken toys, ‘Beware of Dog’ signs and the odd shattered beer bottle put me at ease. It all seemed downright clean after some time at motels and bars.

Sandy's house was a faded tan one-level. She'd inherited it from her parents too, but not so cleanly. Her mom had ODed in it a few years ago. Her father was supposedly still alive but had skipped town almost a decade ago and never showed his face. With her out at school, the place should be empty, but I stopped at the door and listened before I used my copy of her key to get in.

The inside sat in a beautiful mess. Exactly what you'd expect from spending a few minutes with the girl. Clothes and shoes lay in crumpled heaps at the corner of each room, like fluorescent piles of leaves. Random junk crowded her living room, everything from a worn down doll to a soccer ball to what may or may not have been a fake penis sitting erect on a table at the corner of the room.

I brushed a box of cereal off the couch and crashed down on it. It had been a while since I'd actually seen anything on TV that I wanted to see, so I spent all afternoon there enjoying the little pleasure. I was considering whether I should surprise her with a dinner, when the doorknob started to rattle.

Sandy blew in with a huff. She had on white slacks and a purple tank top, and her skin shone with sweat. That wasn't anything special around here, but when she dropped her backpack with a heavy thud, I clenched my fists in victory.

She came into the living room, frowning at the blaring TV. Her face very slowly traced its way from the screen to the couch. She shrieked. I got up, laughing.

"God, Katie. What the hell?" She recovered and came back in for a sweaty hug. "What the hell?"

I wrapped her tight right back. Underneath her BO I could still smell that fruity fragrance she always wore. A lot of things had changed so quickly but not the feeling of perfect ease that smell brought out. "It's good to see you too," I said.

"Jesus," she said. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for my books.

"Your books?" Awe dawned on her face. "Oh you clever little bitch."

She slapped my arm, and I jerked away.

"I'm sorry,” I said. “I'm sorry. I just had to be sure the cops wouldn't come."

"Not for you maybe. They were all up in my face," she said. "They drove me to your house. And you weren't even there."

"Sorry. I just wanted to make sure it was you I talked to. Not them."

She held my shoulders and looked into me, apparently buying the truth. "I guess I'm just glad you're ok. And I'm so sorry."

"For what?" My heart rose and I tried to see the street through closed blinds. Had I messed up? Had the cops followed her home?

"The police made me show them what you asked for."

"Oh," I let my lungs breathe. "Yeah, just study material."

"That's what I told them, but it's not." She dragged her bag across the floor." Zoo and Wild Animal Medicine? Intermediate Genetics. The heck is all this?"

"Just something I'm interested in."

"Geez, Katie, come on, you owe me more than that. I know you had that thing happen at the bar and I totally blame myself for that, but all this stuff that's been going on since? The bikers, the kidnappers, and now in the middle of all that you're starting a zoo or something?"

Her face looked tugged in all directions, like she wasn't sure she found this annoying, troubling or awesome. I rubbed her shoulders back. It was odd, being the one who had to reassure her.

"One day," I said. "I promise I'll sit you down and tell you everything. But I can't now. Especially if the police are annoying you about me."

"Why? It's not about the gunfight right? They know you're not guilty for that."

"They didn't tell you why they're after me?"

"Just that it's for your own safety." Her eyes popped open. "Are you saying that's a lie? That they think you did something wrong?"

"Me, no. Well, a little but not really. Anyway, I didn't do anything illegal."

"What about your boyfriend?"

I started to deny but she crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me I didn't see what I saw."

"Alright, yeah, he's in a little trouble, and he did a couple things wrong. He's not a bad guy.

"What's his name?"

I ground my teeth. This was not exactly the girl talk I'd been dreaming of. "Ghost."

"You're dating a guy named Ghost." She looked deeply troubled.

"Gosh, mom, I'll be fine."

It got just the reaction I was looking for. "God, Katie, you know I am all for dating hot dark and mysterious types, especially if they save your butt, but you can't expect me to not be worried."

I rubbed her cheek. "I know. I promise I'll be ok."

"Is he here?" Her eyes darted to the kitchen as if he might have ducked out for a beer.

"Actually, right now he's the one who doesn't know where I am. And I probably need to fix that."

"What?" She looked crestfallen.