“I never wanted any of this. I was almost killed by men like him.”
“And yet here you are.” She patted the chair next to her. “Come sit with me.”
I hesitated, but walked over and sank down in the seat. She smiled and took my hand, squeezing it.
“You know what I’m jealous of?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No clue.”
“I’m jealous of your book.”
“Really?” She seemed surprised. “Why would you be jealous of that?”
“Because you have something you like to do that’s not wrapped up in all this.”
“Oh, the book’s wrapped up in all this, of course. All my work since I met Vincent has been wrapped up in this world. All my reporting, all my articles, everything.”
“Still, you have your own identity. You’re not really… you’re not a part of this, right?”
“That’s true,” she said softly. “I’m still an outsider.”
“And I’m an insider that wishes she were an outsider.”
“You should start painting again. I keep telling you.”
I shook my head and stretched. “I feel like that was a different person.”
“You don’t have to give things up every time something bad happens.”
“That’s the easy way out, right?”
“Exactly.” She grinned and patted my knee. “You’re starting to get it.”
I gave her a look. “You’re a weird one, Mona. You know that, right?”
“Oh, I know. But I’m also very delightful.”
We sat in silence for a minute or so, and I let my thought drift, before focusing back on the moment. She was right that hard things were hard for a reason, but they could be more rewarding. I’d never stuck with anything for long, and part of me thought that I’d never been given a chance. My father provided whatever I wanted while I was growing up, although he’d been pretty emotionally distant and detached, I still never wanted for material things. And then when I began to start my own life, I got shot and nearly killed—which led me to this room, this moment.
“We’re going to double-cross the Dusters,” I said, my voice sounding far away.
She frowned in surprise. “Really?”
“It was my idea. Ren’s telling everyone he came up with it, since we both agreed that it’d come out better that way. But it was my idea.”
“Interesting,” she said softly.
“I could’ve let him go along with the Dusters and we probably would have been fine. But then you would’ve been hurt, and I couldn’t let that happen.”
“Thank you,” she said, sounding sincere. “For someone that thinks she’s detached from all this, you sound like you’re involving yourself a lot.”
“It’s Ren. He asks me what I think, pushes me for ideas.”
“He treats you like you matter.”
“It’s crazy, right? That’s all it takes?”
“Sometimes that’s all you need. And it’s rare, you know, to find someone that cares about you enough to treat you like you’re important. Not a lot of people do that.”
“Depressing.”
“But true.”
“For what it’s worth, I hope Vincent’s okay.”
“Even though he’s a total bastard?”
I grinned at her. “Despite him being a bastard. But mostly for your sake.”
“You’re a good friend, you know that? I hope you stick around, but I have a feeling you won’t.”
I didn’t know what to say. She was right—as soon as I could, I planned on getting the hell out of this city and out of this life. I didn’t know what that meant for me and Ren, but I couldn’t think that deeply or that far in advance. Right now, it was one foot in front of the other.
I stood up. “I should get going. We have a lot of planning to do.”
“Have fun.”
I hesitated. I wanted to say something more, but only smiled, turned, and left the room. I felt like I’d learned something about myself in there, but I wasn’t sure exactly what yet—or maybe I wasn’t ready to look that closely. I was still afraid I’d find something that I didn’t like.
18
Ren
I found her sitting poolside staring at the placid water with a tired expression on her face. The room was quiet otherwise, and the click of the door’s lock echoed through the space. She looked up, a hint of surprise in her eyes.
“I’ve been looking for you.”
She sat up straight. A towel was wrapped around her midsection, barely covering her breasts, and her hair was still damp. The room smelled like chlorine and the heavy humidity weighed down my clothes.
“You found me.”
I sat in the chair next to her and stretched my legs out. We lingered in a short silence and I didn’t feel the strong urge to break it—being with her was comfortable and easy. But I liked the sound of her voice.
“Did you talk to Mona?”
She shrugged a little. “For a bit. She seems like she’s doing okay.”
“That’s good.” I watched her, trying to guess at what was going on inside that head. I knew how hard this was for her, and how badly she wanted to help Mona. It was a strange contradiction, and I could hardly understand it. I’d spent my life in the underworld dealing with men that barely cared about anything but themselves. To me, it made complete sense to tell everyone else to fuck off, and to take whatever you needed. As far as I was concerned, Amber had every right to run off and leave everyone else to fend for themselves. If she told me right this second to go through with the Duster plan for real, I’d do it with a smile.