Snowflakes & Fire Escapes (13 page)

“I can’t!” I scream. “We can’t leave Cody there!”

“We have to,” he says. “He knew what he was getting himself into.”

I don’t want to accept that answer, but he doesn’t give me much of a choice. He threatens to handcuff me if I swing at him once more.

I fall apart in the back of the van, crying as I shove away from his arms. I don’t know what’s happening and Holden isn’t uttering a word. I don’t know if Cody is hurt, if he’s alive, if he was going down with his father. I don’t know what the hell happened, why he let me go, if he’d meant to all along or if seeing me again brought out the boy I used to know.

I don’t know.

I know nothing.

The van speeds out of Hell’s Kitchen, following a familiar path, the same one we took last time.

After a moment, Holden starts patting me down, feeling me up, like I’m a perpetrator and he’s looking for guns. “Where’s your phone, Gracie? Please tell me you have your phone.”

Frowning, I reach into my pocket and grab the phone, throwing it at him. It whizzes by his head, smashing into the side window, but of course it doesn’t hurt anything. The glass is shatterproof. I know—I’ve tried to break it. Holden doesn’t flinch, picking up the phone when it lands on the floor. He flips it right over, pulling off the back, and lets out a deep breath. “Thank God.”

I watch as he pulls something out, something the size of a fingerprint, and holds it up. It’s some kind of microchip, one of the smallest I’ve ever seen.

“What is that?” I ask.

“This, Gracie, is
justice
,” he says. “This little card holds all of Cormac Moran’s secrets, every dirty deed he’s done over the past year.”

I stare at it, stunned. “How did it get in my phone?”

As soon as I ask that question, I know. I know how it got there.
Cody
.

“He called me,” Holden says, “earlier today, from your phone. He said you were okay, that he was keeping an eye out, and he arranged for us to come for you. He said he had information … more information than he had a year ago.”

I gape at him. “What?”

“He gave us information last year, Grace … information that helped take down his father’s organization … information that gave us
your
father, information strong enough to make him turn. But this, the information on this chip … this is enough to take down
Cormac
. He put his ass on the line, you know, and he sent it out with you, just in case.”

“In case of what?”

Holden’s attention is fixed to the small microchip. He’s quiet, like he doesn’t want to answer my question, and I don’t need him to. Not really. I know why Cody sent it with me, but I want to hear the truth.

I want him to say it.

I hold my breath as he does.

“In case he doesn’t make it out of there himself.”

***

“Snowflake,” I said with disbelief, staring at the Marshal as I stood in the dusty front yard of an old house in what looked like the middle of the damn desert. It was scorching hot, and I was sweating, and he had to audacity to tell me I was now a resident of a town called
Snowflake
. “You’re kidding.”

“Not kidding,” he said. “Snowflake, Arizona … population 5,590 at last count, so I guess that makes you 91.”

“Snowflake,” I said again, looking away from him to glance around. I couldn’t see any other houses from where we were standing. Less people lived in this entire town than lived on just my block back in Hell’s Kitchen. “Look, Inspector—”

“Holden,” he said. “Not Inspector, not Marshal … just Holden.”

“Look, Holden,” I continued, “I appreciate this and all, but I don’t think I can live here. No, I
know
I can’t live here.”

“It’s a nice town,” he said. “Quiet, quaint … the people are friendly and mind their own business. The crime rate is low and the weather is nice. It’s everything you could ever ask for.”

No, it wasn’t, I thought.

I would ask for
so
much more.

“Besides, I thought you’d get a kick out of it.” Holden smiled playfully as he reached over, tugging on the locket around my neck. “Thought you liked snowflakes.”

I took a step back, away from his reach, and grasped ahold of the empty locket when he let go of it. I said nothing. What could I have said?

He would never understand.

Sighing, he took a step toward me, closing the distance I just put between us. He was persistent; I’d give him that. “I know it’s going to be an adjustment. You’re only seventeen and your life has completely changed.”

Almost seventeen and a half now, I thought, but I didn’t correct him.

“But you’ll get used to it,” he continued. “And who knows? Maybe this is all a blessing in disguise. Life works in mysterious ways, Gracie.”

I was taken aback by his usage of that name. “Why’d you just call me that?”

“What? Gracie?”

I flinched when he said it again. “Yes.”

“The locket,” he said. “It’s written on the back, so I assumed you preferred it.”

I did prefer it, but I kept that to myself.

Another thing he wouldn’t understand.

I preferred it because Cody called me it.

Nobody else ever did.

***

I never wanted this life.

The pale girl with the bright red hair … I never wanted to be her. Even when she’s wearing makeup, when she has a reason to put on dresses and nice shoes, I was never very comfortable in her skin. I never wanted to be the girl who navigated the world alone. I didn’t want to have to settle for less than what I believed I deserved. I had a wall of dreams and a give-them-hell attitude, and I had plans … plans I wanted nothing more than to see through.

I never wanted to be in this place.

But I never truly belonged
there
, either.

Home was never Hell’s Kitchen. Home was somewhere where I could see the stars, where I could stare up at the sky and know, with just a glance, that there was something else beyond this all. Home was the one place I felt safe, and protected, where even surrounded by brimstone and hellfire, I could feel Heaven’s touch on my face.

Home.

I miss it.

I miss so much of it.

I miss the smiles.

I miss the snow.

It’s been a little over three weeks since I was dragged back out of the neighborhood I grew up in, kicking and screaming, whisked away to a new life, another new beginning, where I had to learn to be another new girl. They took me straight to the intake center in Washington, processing me back into the system, this time as a bona fide witness.

Grace Kelly.

I chose it because of the Princess of Monaco, hoping I’ll live at least half the life the real Grace Kelly lived. She left her world behind for a new adventure, walking away from the thing she wanted most for something else, something I like to think she eventually loved even more.

I hope that’ll happen for me.

With my new name comes a new placement, something I knew, but something I don’t want to think about. I’m not supposed to know when it’ll happen. I’m not allowed to know where I’m headed after this. All I know is that for the moment, I’m back here … back in this place.

Snowflake
.

I stand along the side of Highway 77, a few yards south of the city limits sign, leaning back against the side of Holden’s black Dodge Charger. It’s near nightfall, the sun having gone away. In fact, it hid most of the day.

It’s amazing how quick things can change. I was gone for only a few days, but when I returned to Arizona, nothing was the same. Winter had moved in practically overnight, ushering in the second I ran out. Gone was the scorching sun, replaced with a ground covered in frost and a cloud-covered sky.

It feels colder here than it felt in Hell’s Kitchen. The nippiness in the air makes my nose run and my skin tingle with pins and needles. I’m wearing the hoodie, my hands pulled up inside the sleeves, the hood over my head, pulled down low, shielding my eyes, mostly because it’s cold, but partly because I still don’t want anybody to look at me.

It smells like him again.

Or maybe my mind is playing tricks on me.

My gaze is off in the distance, far down the highway as it disappears into the growing darkness. I’m so emotionally worn down that I’d give about anything to be anywhere but here right now. It’s Christmas Eve, and I’m standing along the side of the road, while nearly everyone else in the world was at home with the people they loved.

“We can wait in the car, you know … if you’re cold.”

My head turns, eyes seeking out Holden when he speaks. He’s standing in the middle of the road, near the broken yellow line. The highway is vacant. We’ve been out here ten minutes and I haven’t seen another car yet.

“I’m fine,” I say quietly. “How much longer is it going to be?”

He shrugs a shoulder casually, hands in his pockets, as his pristine dress shoes toe the asphalt, kicking small rocks off of the highway. “Shouldn’t be much longer, I’d say.”

He hasn’t told me why we’re out here, why he drove me to this spot or what we’re waiting for, but I think I know. Contrary to how I acted when I ran straight into the arms of danger, I’m not an idiot. I think it’s time … time to move on.

Because with a new placement comes a new handler. Holden’s job ends right here, at the city limit of Snowflake, where he kept Grace Kennedy safe. Grace Kelly belongs elsewhere, the responsibility of someone else.

That makes me sadder than I thought it would.

Another person I’ll leave behind, never to see again.

“Do you have a family, Holden?” I ask curiously. I’ve never given his life outside of his job much thought. Tomorrow’s Christmas … doesn’t he have anyone waiting somewhere for him?

“I have a brother,” he says. “Other than that, no.”

“No wife? No fiancé? No girlfriend? Nothing.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

He shrugs. “Guess I’m already married to the job.”

“But you get laid, right?”

The question comes out of nowhere. I feel like a fool the second it’s vocalized, but he laughs, not offended in the least.

“I do just fine,” he says, shaking his head, grinning. “But I don’t think that’s a conversation we should be having.”

“Because you’re my handler?”

He narrows his eyes. “Because you’re practically my kid.”

That wasn’t the answer I expected, but I’ll accept it.

A few minutes pass. I’m shivering, clenching my jaw tightly to stop my teeth from chattering so much. Holden doesn’t suggest we get back in the car again, even though it’s obvious I’m cold. He doesn’t seem bothered by anything, his eyes watching me curiously until subtle lights shine down the highway from the south. We both glance that direction, and I watch as the black van slowly approaches, the headlines illuminating us.

I recognize it.

It belongs to the Marshals.

The windows are as black as the paint.

It creeps to a stop a few yards in front of us. I can faintly make out the man sitting in the driver’s seat. My eyes shift from him to Holden, who still stands in the middle of the road. He, too, looks away from the van, glancing at me, and offers a slight smile, but there’s sadness to it.

“I, uh …” I’m not sure what to say. I want to say so much. I want to thank him. I want to apologize. I want to tell him I appreciate everything he’s done for me, that he’s shown me more respect and kindness in one year than my father did my entire life. I want to tell him that even though I didn’t like being this girl, even though I didn’t like being in this place, I did like him.

I want to tell him I don’t want to go.

I don’t want to go, because when I do, I’ll officially have nobody.

I want to say so much, but I say nothing.

His smile dims a little, the sadness taking over as he nods, whispering, “I know.”

Tears sting my eyes as they build, but I fight to keep them from flowing down my cheeks, not wanting to fall apart over this. Not in front of him, anyway. He clears his throat, taking a step toward me, his hands still in his pockets. Down the highway, I can hear a van door slide open.

“I have something for you,” Holden says. “Something you might want.”

I shake my head. “I don’t want anything from this life. None of it matters to me.”

The clothes, the air conditioner, the shitty car that’s still parked somewhere near the airport—I don’t care about any of those things. They all belong to that other girl.

The smile that faded just a moment ago returns. “It’s not from
this
life, Gracie. Call it a Christmas present.”

Pulling his hand from his pocket, he holds it out toward me. I stare at it, eyes widening when I see the tiny picture lying on his palm. Instinctively, I reach for the locket around my neck, a locket that’s been empty since he took that picture from me. My eyes dart between his hand and his face, stunned.

“But you said I couldn’t have pictures,” I whisper, losing that damn battle with my tears as I take it from him. I gaze at it for a second, my chest trying to cave in at the sight of Cody’s face. “You said I couldn’t keep it because of him.”

“You’re right—I did,” he says. “But that’s not going to be a problem anymore.”

Brow furrowing, I stare at him with confusion as he subtly nods toward the van. My head slowly turns that way, something inside of me twisting when I see the person standing in the road beside it. It’s getting dark, and his face is obscured by shadows, but I know that body. I know that stance. I’d recognize it before I even recognized myself.

“Cody?”

His name bursts from my chest, cracking when it escapes my lips, echoing out in the form of a question, but it’s senseless. I know the answer. I know him. His head lifts, green eyes meeting mine. He’s so close, so close I can see the slight pull of his lips, slowly morphing into a smile as he mouths my name. “Gracie.”

I don’t think.

There’s nothing to think about.

There’s no hesitation.

I don’t need ten seconds.

I launch myself at him, running as fast as I can, closing the distance between us in a blink. He braces himself when I slam right into him, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me into his embrace. My tears fall like rain as I cling to him tightly, fisting the back of his jacket, burying my face in his chest.