The Misfit

Chapter Fifteen

Arianna

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ARNOLD SWEPT ME INTO the house, guiding me inside before I had a chance to see what was going to happen to the man I had pointed out as my attacker. I heard someone raise their voice in the split-second before the door swung shut behind us, and I tried to push down the wave of guilt. It was him or me, and there wasn’t a chance in fucking hell I was going to throw myself under that buss for the sake of a person who had hit me in the face.

Inside, the house was beautiful; far more refined than the outside, which looked as though it could have come straight from a documentary on the perils of new money. The walls were lined with paintings, some of them originals, and I found my eyes lingering on some, pricing them in my mind. I could make a fortune, enough to retire on, just from the contents of this room. Damn, it was tempting to snatch one, just a little one...

“If you wouldn’t mind waiting here,” Arnold told me, as he pushed open a heavy wooden door that led to a living area. A few couches surrounded an unlit fireplace, rows of books covering the walls. It seemed as though nobody had actually been in there in a long time, the room being more for show than it was for the act of actually living.

I stepped inside and perched on the edge of the couch. I could hear, distantly, some yelling outside, and I hoped the man I had pointed to wasn’t getting in too much trouble. That was my soft heart, it always got me in trouble.

I looked around the room, taking it all in. Whoever had put this place together had done so with the intent of showing off to everyone they could. I could see a few antiques around the edges of the bookcase – a pen here, a notebook there, small trinkets that would have likely fetched a fortune on the black market. I might be able to palm one or two without anyone noticing, if I was quick enough.

What the fuck was I thinking? I scolded myself, reminding myself how dangerous this situation was. The last thing I needed was for one of them to walk in on me taking one of their precious antiques - I would be strung out to dry in a second, and, if I was that stupid, I would have deserved it.

I clasped my hands on my lap, hoping I could submerge the urge to steal. It was just a comfort thing, really, scoping out the room like that; it made me feel as though I had some control of the situation, even if I knew I didn’t.

How much did Jacob remember? No – Arnold, that was his name, he had introduced himself when we were walking into the building. Why had he given me a different name at the hotel? Maybe he had reason to look out for people who might have wanted the worst for him, and he had no way to prove I wasn’t one of them. Smart choice – I was anything but good news when it came to a man like him.

The door behind me opened, and I jumped slightly as I turned around to see who it was. Another man – he stood a little taller than Arnold, clearly quite a bit younger, and his face was set into a hard line that told me he didn’t want to be here at all. I went to get to my feet to greet him, but he lifted his hand at once and stopped me in my tracks.

“Sit,” he ordered, and I could tell there was no point in arguing. I did as I was told.

“Who are you?” I asked him, trying to keep the nerves out of my voice. The best way to go about all of this, I had found, was to approach everything as though I deserved to be there; to make everybody around me believe I had as much right to everything as they did. It might not have been easy, but I needed to convince them I was the one in charge here. No matter how sure they were the ones running the show.

“I’m Terrence Schwindel,” he replied, standing before me. He loomed over me, not taking his eyes off of me as he waited for a response. I had no idea what to say.

“I’m Arianna,” I offered him in return. It was the name I had given Arnold, and I was going to stick with it. No need to lie about small things like that, I knew there would be more important things to mislead them on, and I needed them to believe I was trustworthy until I gave them reason to be sure of the contrary.

“And you met my uncle, Arnold, a few days ago, didn’t you?” he asked. I nodded.

“Yes, we ran into each other at the hotel in New York.”

He paused, as though waiting for me to say more. I didn’t. I knew better than to spill anything more than I needed to, unprompted. Better to let him ease it out of me, piece by piece, than offer up information I didn’t have to.

“And what happened then?”

I took a deep breath, staring off into space as though merely remembering it was painful. Of course, I was playing for time, making sure I didn’t give anyone more than I was ready to, but I had to start somewhere.

“He had a drink, and he fell asleep,” I replied, narrowing my eyes as though doing my best to pull it all to the front of my mind. “And when I left – well, there were these men out there, looking for him. They tried to grab me, but I ran – I ran into this guy in the parking lot, he told me he would take care of me. And he put me on a plane to Chicago...”

I trailed off again, letting Terrence guide me to the next part of the story.

“The man you met,” he asked. “Who was he?”

I shook my head, furrowing my brow.

“I didn’t get his name,” I admitted. “I was in such a rush to get out of there, I didn’t really think about anything other than just making it out without being hurt. I was so scared, I didn’t have time to go and warn Arnold, even though I wanted to. I’m just glad he’s okay.”

I painted on my best and most convincing expression of relief, and gazed up at Terrence, wondering if he’d actually bought it. He wasn’t giving anything away.

“You travelled all that way with a man and didn’t even get his name?” he pressed, and I nodded.

“I think I pretty much just passed out on the plane as soon as I got on, I was so exhausted,” I admitted. “I didn’t have time to talk to him. We left each other at the airport.”

Terrence nodded, slowly. How much did he know? My heart was slamming against my ribs, that strange, unsettled feeling that came with lying through my teeth. Had he seen me with Dean? Did he know who Dean really was? Was Dean about to walk out right now and prove I was lying? I had no idea what to expect, but I had to be ready to roll with whatever punches came flying my way.