The Dirty Ones
The security ignores me, but I don’t even have time to get annoyed about this because the doors open onto my… not penthouse… and we walk down the hallway to my front door, which is already open.
Another member of my father’s security detail ushers me inside to find my father pacing back and forth in front of the living room window.
It’s only then that I realize if I had binoculars—or maybe a small telescope—I could probably see into Sofia’s apartment across the park.
Weird. That I never knew that. Also weird, and kinda creepy, thinking about my father being here last night peeking at Kiera and me while we fucked in front of the window.
I don’t know why I think about this, especially when, as soon as my father sees me, he whispers, “He’s here. I’ll call you back,” like that whisper is enough stealth to hide the fact he was talking about me with someone. “Good God, Connor. What the hell was that?”
“Camille and—”
“Not that,” he barks. “The police! Why were you talking to the police?”
“I mean… it was a pretty clear-cut thing, Dad. Camille and—”
“You never talk to the police, understand? Not without a lawyer. Do you have any idea the kind of damage control I’ve been doing today?” He pauses, exhales loudly, then says, “We’re leaving. Let’s go.”
“Go where?”
“To the Hamptons. Dr. Livingston is putting you up for the night at her place. That way we have all day tomorrow to prep for the announcement.”
My first instinct is to fight him on this, but then I hear Hayes’ words in my head. “Just make him think you’re on board.”
So fine. I do that. When I try to pack a bag, my father snaps, “Never mind any of that. We’ve got everything you need at the Livingston estate.”
Has he always been such a dick? Or is this something new I’m just noticing?
I really don’t think I’ve ever seen him this on edge.
“I need to stop somewhere and get a phone. The cops took mine.” It’s a lie. Well, a half a lie. They did take our phones, but they gave them back. Hayes refused to unlock his, which pissed them off. But they were really only interested in Kiera’s phone, which she unlocked voluntarily. I only tell this lie so I can go into the tech store half a block down before we leave as an excuse to call Hayes and let him know what’s happening. I get the feeling my father isn’t going to like that phone call one bit, and since Hayes hinted that we’re in stealth buddy system mode, I’m trying my best to be stealthy.
It was the absolute wrong thing to say. My father’s face actually goes red.
“What?” I say. “What was I supposed to do? There’s nothing incriminating on there, for fuck’s sake. I just wanted to cooperate so they can figure out why Camille and—”
“Just… shut up, Connor. I’m at the end of my rope tonight.”
Which is a pretty dickish thing to say since, you know, two of my oldest friends just fucking killed themselves last night. So I say, “You know what? I’m not going to the Hamptons. I’m meeting Kiera up at her place in Vermont. There’s a helicopter waiting for me downtown and—”
But that’s the last word I get out.
Because someone hits me over the head and I drop to the floor.
“For fuck’s sake, Steven!”
“Here,” someone says. Some familiar voice I know I recognize, but can’t place.
And then there’s a hot, burning sensation traveling up the vein in my arm and…
And everything goes dark.
I wake up in a room. Tied to a bed. Head pounding. People yelling beyond the door underneath which a glowing line of light leaks through.
I try to yell, but my voice won’t work.
I squirm and thrash and the only thing I get for my trouble is a nurse appearing with a needle. This time it doesn’t go into my arm, it goes into an IV.
Then the darkness is back.
I dream again. That same dream, I think. I’m short and looking for my friends among all the strangers. I can hear Louise, but then I wonder… maybe that’s the real Louise. Because this is her house, I’m sure of it.
Then Emily is there again. She says, “Shhhhhhh. Don’t let them know you know.”
“What do I know?” I whisper back.
And she says, “Everything, Connor. You know everything. They just made you forget.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX – KIERA
“He’s not answering,” I say. “Why isn’t he answering?”
I look at Hayes and Sofia sitting close together in my small cottage couch. Hayes is trying to play this cool but I can tell he’s worried.
Connor didn’t meet the helicopter and we can’t get a hold of him.
“Just…” Hayes sighs. Like he’s more than tired. More than frustrated. That sigh says something else. I don’t know why I think it sounds like giving up, but it does. “Just,” he repeats, “relax, OK? We’ll figure it out.”