“Yeah,” he says in response. “How’d your mother die, Smurf?”
Sasha squeezes my hand and whispers, “Childbirth.”
“That means they refused to give you girls up. They come when the babies are born and make deals with the fathers. This is how they keep it going. The Company is dependent on the next generation. They need us to continue their dirty work, or else things would just degenerate until they fell apart. They need that birth promise. And most of the time, the parents give in. I mean, don’t get me wrong, they really have no choice. None. The kids belong to the Company no matter what. And most parents give in and sign them over. But every once in a while”—he points to us with his v-shape again—“every once in a while they fight back. And then the Company kills the mother to make an example of them.”
“Kills them…” Sasha says in a voice so weak I turn to look at her to make sure she’s OK. Her face is ashen and her grip on my hand is tighter than ever. “They killed her.” It’s a statement, not a question.
When I look at James he’s nodding. “They kill them if they put up any kind of fight. So while my mother was busy signing over my sister, your mothers gave their lives for you. And your father, Sasha, from what I can tell, almost made it out.”
“They killed him too?” she squeaks out. “The Company?”
“James, stop,” I say. “Just stop. She doesn’t need to hear this.”
“She does, Harper. She really needs to hear this.” He looks back at Sasha and even though his words are harsh, his voice is soft. “They killed him, Smurf. But hey.” He bends down and tips her lowered chin up with a fingertip. “I told you, Merc is busy doing something important, right?”
“He’s killing that senator?”
“I’m not sure he’s doing that right now, but believe me, he’s gonna get them back.” And then James looks at me. “And while he takes care of that end in his way, the three of us will take care of this end in our way. But I need your trust, girls. I need your trust. I can’t do any of this unless you trust me because I can’t do any of this alone.”
I swallow hard and look him in the eye. “Why should we trust you? You’ve done their dirty work for them your whole life.”
James doesn’t even blink. Like he’s used to the insult. He’s been called a killer so much, that label has no meaning to him anymore. “Because they took my baby sister. My mother sold out my baby sister and they took her away. And someone needs to pay for this shit, Harper. Someone needs to stand the f**k up and say enough. And maybe we’re not much. One man, one woman, and one kid. But I’m tired of waiting for that someone to come along and make things right. We might as well put a bullet in our own heads right the f**k now because we are already dead.” He stops to make sure this is sinking in. Both Sasha and I are shaking now, so yes, his shock tactic is working.
“We’re already dead except for you, Lionfish. Sasha and I have hits on our heads. There’s no way we’re gonna be allowed to live. But even if we did make it, even if I did make it out and I was allowed to keep what was already mine”—he takes the hand Sasha is not holding and gives me a comforting squeeze—“what kind of future will we have if our daughter is sold? What kind of future will I have if they make an example of you? Because there’s no f**king way on this earth that I would let them take my child, girl or boy. That’s never gonna happen. What kind of life is that? What kind of man lets this happen? What kind of coward lets his own family be sold off or killed?”
“That’s not any kind of life I want, James,” Sasha says. All her tears are gone now. Her expression is the opposite of the one she was wearing a few minutes ago. That sad and lost child has disappeared.
And I suddenly feel like I’m looking in the mirror. Because the expression on her face is the same as mine.
Cold killer.
The desert wind is whipping my hair around and the temperature outside the shade of the gigantic dinosaur is at least one hundred ten. But my skin shivers from the cold within.
Like the reptile sheltering us, our blood runs cold.
We’re all cold here.
Chapter Thirty - James
We walk back to the Hummer in silence and my mind, opened up from sharing these details with the girls, is buzzing like it’s got something to say. Memories flicker in an out, and I press my fingertips to my temples.
“You OK?” Harper asks me as she entwines her arm in mine. “You don’t look good.”
“Fine,” I say. But I’m not sure I’m fine. I’m not convinced any of us are fine.
Sasha glances over her shoulder at the dinosaur one last time before she opens the back door on the driver’s side and hops up into the truck.
“Put your belt on, kid.”
She does as she’s told without comment. Her earlier sadness, despite her bravado back under the reptile, has turned to hopelessness.
I prefer her sad if the alternative is hopeless.
So I smack her leg, trying to change her mood. But she just shakes her head. “This is worse.”
“What’s worse?” my dry throat croaks out.
“Knowing,” she says, her eyes still avoiding mine. “At least I had something to believe in before.” She directs her gaze up to mine as Harper gets in the front and closes her door.
“You can believe in me, kid. I told you, I’m working on it. I’m gonna keep you safe.” I look over at Harper as she silently watches us. “I’m gonna keep both of you safe.”