Two Can Play (Entangled Ignite) Page 9

  Sure, life got tough and confusing, but you didn’t hide in a fantasy world, depending on others to save you. You held your ground. Maybe you got gut-punched or jumped from behind now and then, but you learned from each attack and figured a counterpunch for the next time.

  He thought he’d shown Beth that, but he’d fallen down on the job somehow. He was supposed to look out for her, dammit. As a kid, he’d tried to look out for his mother, too, for all the good it had done.

  He still remembered the cops at the hospital asking his mom to press charges against the bastard boyfriend who’d put her there. Gage had been eleven. When she’d declined, he’d heard the detectives talking about her in disgusted tones. Why do these broads put up with that shit? Next time we get a call on her, it’ll be for the corpse cart.

  Gage had vowed that would never happen. He’d met the creep on the stoop with a stainless steel bat, heart pounding, twisting the grip, smelling sweat and metal. Tasting it, too.

  The asshole had held a fistful of wilted roses—stolen, no doubt—as some lame apology and when he’d started up the stairs, Gage batted the bouquet out of his hands and told him to get lost.

  “Plenty more whores where she came from,” he’d sneered, but backed off, intimidated by Gage’s fury.

  “Don’t you say that about her!” Gage had shouted, voice cracking, trembling with rage. He’d pounded the bat against the stoop, creating a lightning-shaped crack. Every time he saw that zigzag fracture, he remembered his vow that no thug would ever get near them again. To be ready, he used his newspaper money to pay for tae kwon do. His mom had learned her lesson about bad men, though she’d returned from the hospital with the Oxycontin she got hooked on and their lives suffered in a whole new way.

  When Gage found Beth, he wouldn’t leave her alone until she had a decent life away from these crazies. He’d get back her money, too.

  Shifting the nightstand to check for more entries, he noticed that a three-by-five snapshot had slipped to the floor. It was Cassie and Rena in Dome gear, arms around each other. He slipped it into his pocket. Rena would want this, he’d bet. Eventually, he’d get it to her.

  It had been cruel to make her to kick out her friend. What more did the Blackstones want from her beyond the worship she already gave? Lifers would do whatever they asked. Lie, cheat, steal.

  Kill? Would they kill for the “Family”? Maybe. Cassie had yelled something about some accounts. Was Beth’s money there? Ousted from the Lounge, Cassie might tell him what he needed to know. He would track her down tomorrow. A clock was ticking on Beth. And not just the one marking time to her twenty-first birthday and her hundred grand. He felt it deep inside.

  He’d move as fast as he could without raising suspicion. Now that he knew the first name she used here, he’d try to weasel a peek at a Lounge-wide directory through the girl in personnel, have his pricey PI fake employment checks to all the Lounges, though her still-unknown surname would be a problem.

  Once Gage knew where she was, he’d sign up to temp there. He’d hold more sway with Beth as a Lifer himself, though she’d be as tough a sell as Rena, who was already on his case.

  As grotesque as it seemed, Gage had to start acting like a real Lifer.

  When he’d finished, he put the key back where he’d found it. He’d love to hang on to it for access to the floor, but it was too risky. These people seemed to track all the details.

  …

  The next morning, Rena awoke to a knock at her door. She jerked to a sit, heart racing. The Watchers? Again?

  No. That was over. Calming herself with a deep inhale, she dragged herself off the bed. It was late, she saw—nine. She hadn’t drifted off until five.

  She opened the door to Maya, who yanked her into her patchouli hug. When she released Rena, she stepped back to smile. “I’m so proud of you, Rena, and I have the best news—” She stopped. “Wait. You never sleep late.”

  “It took me a while to drift off…afterward.”

  “We need to talk about this.” Maya squeezed Rena’s shoulders, like prepping a boxer, then swept into Rena’s Quarters, jewelry clicking, scent trailing like smoke.

  Rena closed her door, glad of the chance to clear up her concerns, though her head felt full of cotton, her body weighted with bricks.

  Maya whipped open Rena’s mini-fridge, grabbed an Electrique, and motioned to the sofa. “Sit, sit, please.” She popped the can and handed it to Rena, who drank it down, welcoming the hit of calm energy.

  “Better?” Maya asked.

  Rena nodded. “I think there’s been a mistake,” she said, getting right to the point. “Cassie denied being Angel and I believe her. Angel doesn’t sound a bit like Cassie. I think the reporter made Angel up to put lies in her mouth about us.”

  Maya patted Rena’s knee, smiling sadly. “You love Cassie, so you identify with her. We know you are profoundly hyper-empathetic with boundary issues. You have to resist the tug of her personality.”

  Rena leaned forward. “It’s not that. Cassie thought it was due to some accounts she saw. She’d mentioned ledgers being off.”

  Something flickered in Maya’s expression before she seemed to draw back. “Leaving is in her best interest. The details hardly matter, do they?”

  Rena could only hear Cassie’s cries and see her face. “Yes, they matter. They matter to me and they matter to Cassie. If she was wrongly evicted, once she’s clean and sober she can come back.”

  “The agony of a situation like this is survivor’s guilt. I know you’re feeling that, but you have to be strong. You must separate yourself from your friend. She caused this outcome. You didn’t.” But Maya was ducking the issue.

  “I want the truth, Maya. What aren’t you telling me?”

  “This is best left alone.” Maya’s voice was flat. “You don’t want to know.”

  “I have to know.” How else could she help?

  Maya studied her, reading her intention, finally sighing. “You won’t like this, I promise you, but I know you’ll keep at me until I answer. This doesn’t go beyond this room, you hear me?”

  “Of course not.”

  She leaned into the sofa, tilting back her head with a sigh, as if gathering strength. Then she sat forward. “Here it is. There was a scheme to skim funds from former customers. The plot was discovered and the employee responsible has been removed, and we are paying back the injured clients.”

  “It was an employee? Not a Lifer?”

  “Correct. Cassie learned about the scheme and accepted money to keep silent. That was her deeper crime. She did talk to the reporter, but how accurately he quoted her is uncertain. Stealing from us was far worse.”

  “Cassie wouldn’t do that. She doesn’t care about cash.” Though she had needed to sell Rena’s phone for Lifer points.

  “Cassie’s been lost in an alcoholic trance for some time. People change as they sink into their addiction. She may not even remember she did it.”

  Rena had lost touch with Cassie’s day-to-day issues, and her attitude had been sour, for sure. “I can’t believe she would do that, Maya.”

  “People aren’t always as they seem. That’s an important lesson for you.”

  She leaned back against the sofa, letting the impossible idea sink in. Had Cassie betrayed the Life after all? Despair drizzled through her, cold and bleak.

  “I wanted to keep that from you. I knew it would hurt,” Maya said softly. “I’ll be checking on her soon, don’t worry.”

  “Is there anything I can do for her?”

  “Yes, and it won’t be easy. Don’t accept her calls. Talking to her will only prolong her agony and yours. Don’t enable her. It sounds harsh, but this is her last chance to turn her life around.”

  “I recruited her. I’m her friend.” Rena’s voice cracked.

  “In her heart, she knows you acted in her best interest.”

  Rena wanted that to be true with everything in her. “Tell her I’m sorry, okay? When you see her?”


  “She knows. You did a good thing,” Maya said gently. “You fulfilled a difficult Quest. Be proud of yourself.”

  How could she? She’d devastated her friend. If you’d do this to a friend, you’d do anything. What a hateful thing Gage had said.

  That reminded her of her other reason to talk to Maya. “There’s something else. Gage was in Cassie’s room when we got there. After curfew.”

  “That’s disrespectful of a guideline, but…” Maya shrugged.

  “He’s disrespectful of the Life, too.”

  “In what way?”

  “He makes these…remarks. Like he thinks giving up our belongings to NiGo means we’re owned. He has some land in the desert he doesn’t want to sell.”

  “Really? How many acres?”

  “A few, I guess. He says he’ll sell, but he’s not happy about it. He got recruited by someone who only wanted the points and didn’t care who he brought in.”

  “Lifers come in different shapes and sizes, Rena.” Maya smiled kindly. “We have to be a bit flexible, especially during this transition. All the new Lounges put us in a staffing bind.”

  “Maybe so, but I don’t think he even wants the Life. Not really. He doesn’t belong here. I think we should let Gage go.”

  Maya studied her. “He’s been with us, what, three days? That’s not long. How’s he doing in other ways?”

  “He’s decent. He can repair equipment. He’s got potential in the Dome. He’s a strong EverLife player. He’s smart and all, but his attitude is—”

  “Sounds like a lot of strengths we need. I would think you’d want your first Mentor assignment to go well.”

  “If he’s going to wash out, it should be sooner rather than later.”

  “Are you worried that you’ll make a mistake with him?”

  “Not really. No. He just bothers me.”

  “He bothers you?” Maya gave her a long look, trying not to smile. Rena felt silly. “So you feel sexually stimulated by him?”

  Rena’s cheeks burned. She hated when Maya poked at her like a dentist digging at nerves with no Novocain. Plus, she could be so blunt about personal stuff. “I don’t know. No.”

  “Rena…you are a terrible liar, my love.” She used a kind, chiding voice that almost made up for how naked Rena felt. It was useless to lie to Maya, not that she ever did, except to hide her most secret secrets, like her fear of the dark, for example.

  Maya sat back with that knowing smile she had. “I think Gage deserves more than a three-day trial. Stay close to him, mentor him, guide him. If, after two weeks, he still bothers you, we’ll ask him to leave. And hope we can replace him.” She sighed. The need to staff the new Lounges weighed heavily on the top managers.

  “Okay.” Rena slumped, disappointed. She’d hoped to be rid of Gage and his questions.

  “Great. That’s settled. And now I have good news.” Maya’s eyes twinkled. “Nigel wants to talk to you. Get dressed and I’ll pass you up the elevator.”

  “Now?” Nigel had promised they’d talk afterward, but so soon? She tried to smile, but Cassie’s fate troubled her and she was still saddled with Mr. Smart-Ass. The only consolation was she had another chance to bring up Girl Power with Nigel.

  …

  “She would never come here,” Cassie’s mother said flatly when Gage called the only I. Fletcher in the Surprise directory. The spring sun had stabbed him awake, blasting through his kitchen window. He’d fallen asleep at the table, cheek stuck to the notepad where he’d been working on Beth’s code. He hadn’t gotten far, only eliminating a few of the possible dozens of letter combinations.

  If Cassie hadn’t gone home, Gage thought, clicking off his phone, where had the van taken her? He would find out at the Lounge as soon as he could get there. He gathered up the still-unsolved code and went for his jacket. Phoenix’s summer bake-off was on its way, but recent rains had kept the March temps low, kicking up a chill when he drove his motorcycle.

  He wasn’t on duty today, but he had leads to follow, so he would show up anyway, help out in the arena, maybe sign up for a Quest or two, try to look like a true-blue Lifer to Rena.

  Gage parked his Norton Commando in the shade near the Lounge Dumpster to protect it from sun and dings. He ran a hand across the curve of the tank to remove the thin streaks of dust. He kept the powder coating waxed and babied it with an oil change every 2,000 miles.

  God, he loved this bike. Norton Commandos were smooth machines, the first super-bikes back in the ’50s, with killer power, built to take corners like a straightaway, and he’d lusted after one from his first whiff of puberty, finally scoring one when he was a senior in high school, with the help of his mother’s one decent male friend. He’d rebuilt it over the years, but the frame and engine covers were original and it was still dependable as hell, as long as he kept spare throttle cables in the toolbox.

  Gearing up for the weird world of the Lounge, he headed for the employee entrance, pulling out his Lifer ID as he walked. The air was sweet with orange blossoms, the sun gentle on his scalp, barely hinting at the oven blast to come. Spring was great in Arizona. Out at his place, baby quail were fluff balls scampering behind their parents through the sage, bright with yellow and purple blossoms. The desert had great beauty if you knew when and where to look.

  He slid his card through the reader and the door opened to him. His first stop was the personnel office, where his girl was at the front desk. Perfect.

  “Hi, baby! How’s it going?” she gushed.

  “I looked for you in the Lounge yesterday.” He threw on the slow smile, aiming to reel her in. It troubled him how easily he could fake warmth. A tool of his trade, but not good for his soul, he was sure.

  “Too many new hires for me to make Lifer Monday,” she said with a sigh. “But I can take breaks…” She held out a box of cinnamon Tic Tacs and tapped one onto his palm. “I just have to have my fun real fast.” She slipped a candy onto her tongue, shifting it slowly side to side, making her point clear.

  If he went after half the sex points he’d been offered, he’d get laid every night for a month. The idea made him weary. “Keep me posted on that.” He leaned closer and winked. “For now, maybe you can help me on another thing. I need to find a friend who transferred out of here. Could you check for me?”

  “Someone special?” Jealousy flared in her dark eyes and she rattled the Tic Tac against her very white teeth.

  “Just a friend.”

  She seemed to believe him. “Sorry, baby boy. Only managers have full access to personnel files.” She leaned in to whisper, giving him a shot of cleavage and a blast of cinnamon. “The secrecy is nutty. To do my job, I have to get signed approval and a timed-access code. They don’t even trust Lifers. Can you believe that?” She shook her head, making a tsk sound.

  “That’s a shame.” Damn. Dead end.

  “Now those Roomer bitches should be locked out. They’re all bitter because Lifer guys won’t hook up with them. They think it’s ’cause they’re only Dead employees, not Lifers, so there’s no points, but it’s really ’cause they’re pure skanks.”

  “Are Roomers the ones who assign Quarters?”

  “Yeah. Can you believe they give such a big-deal job to Deads? It should be a Lifer job for sure, but they don’t ask me or I’d—”

  “Think they’d know where my friend went?”

  She waved that away. “Forget your friend. She’s gone. I’m off at six tonight. How’s that sound?” Her voice took on a honeyed lilt.

  “Mmm, that’s a shame. I’m booked, I’m afraid. Let’s talk next Monday, if you can slip into the arena for a fast break?” He hoped to be long gone by then.

  “Yum,” she said. She squinted at his shirt pocket, where a Girl Power Brochure rested. She tapped it with a long red nail. “You into Girl Power?”

  “Sure. It’s fair.”

  “I knew you were all that. You’re making me hot and wiggly.” She gave an exaggerated shiver, then got serious. “Astra says
our cause is DOA without boy support. And we need to win this.” She motioned at the women working at computers near her. “You see any boys slaving sixty hours a week over point schedules? No, you don’t. Because they need their gaming time. What about us? Girl gamers rock. Equal and fair, that’s all we want. It’s like when they used to pay men teachers more than women because they—supposedly—were the breadwinners and women only worked for fun.”

  He bumped knuckles to signal agreement and left. In the hall, he noticed the sign for the Roomer office and headed in.

  He rolled out a tale for the bored receptionist about finding a ring in L.E.’s room and needing to know where to mail it to her. The girl cut him off, eyes flashing fire. “Look, even if we didn’t purge room records every seven days, which we do, no way am I sending nothin’ to no one. You Lifer boys think you’re God’s gifts.”

  “Sorry.” He raised his hands in surrender. “Didn’t mean to upset you.” His girl in reception had been right about the “Roomer bitches.” He backed out fast.

  Two dead ends behind him, Gage headed to the van office to learn where they’d taken Cassie. He found a check-in window at the side of a garage with a half dozen white vans parked outside. Doves in some nearby mesquites cooed softly, contrasting with the harsh rat-tat-tat of a bolt remover going inside the garage. From the window, he could see one mechanic bent over an engine and another changing tires. The smell of motor oil and rubber rushed out to him.

  The guy at the counter—Eric, according to his jumpsuit patch—leaned out, looking eager to talk. “You need to check out a van?”

  Lifers had free transportation, a nice perk, Gage had to admit. “Nope. I’m new, but I know engines. How hard is it to get to work out here?”

  “You have Quarters?” When Gage shook his head, Eric said, “Once you do, you should apply. We always need mechanics.” He glanced over at the guy working on the engine, who swore and threw a wrench to the concrete. Eric turned back to Gage. “These old vans are shit balls.”

  “Sounds like fun. What are the hours like?”

  “Day shift’s seven to seven. Half shift seven to midnight.”