“I’ll be okay, but thanks.” My voice dropped because getting all mushy made me feel super awkward. “Thanks for everything you’ve done for me. I don’t think I’d have survived…you know…otherwise.”
“Leave it in the past, love. Don’t let it poison you.”
“I will, but—”
“Focus on the future. And if this job’s on the up and up, you gonna be a rich woman.”
“If it works out, the Happy Meals are on me.”
Reuben’s deep guffaw made me smile. “Just don’t gimme none of them apple sticks.”
“Fries all the way.”
Although at that moment, I wasn’t certain I could stomach either. My appetite had deserted me, which was perhaps the worst part of this whole adventure. Food, food everywhere, and I didn’t want any of it. Maybe I’d just have a coffee…
In the kitchen, footsteps sounded behind me as I hung up, and I sagged with relief when Alaric came into view and not Emmy. I didn’t need the pressure of her presence right now.
“Not hungry?” he asked.
I’d opted for pastries in the end, years of hunger leaving me unable to walk past free food without swiping whatever I could. There were three dainty Danishes on my plate, each with a bite taken out of it. Nothing tasted good at the moment, not even a cinnamon whirl.
“I’m thinking.”
“About Lenny?”
“Sort of.”
He didn’t pry, just walked to the coffee machine, and it soon started beeping and hissing. When Ruth was out, I stuck to instant because that thing had more buttons than an aeroplane cockpit.
“Want a drink?” Alaric offered.
“Can you make it do mocha?”
“I’ll have a try. Your brother’s gonna be okay—Emmy spoke to the hospital earlier.”
“I know.” I’d been with her when she called, and I’d even spoken to him. He’d sounded miserable, depressed and uncomfortable as he went through withdrawal, but he’d be released soon. The question was, where would he end up? Where would I end up? “Did Emmy tell you she offered me a job?”
“Yes, she mentioned it. You don’t know whether to accept?”
I shook my head. “What would you do?”
“In your position?” He picked up two cups from the machine and set one down in front of me, then took a seat opposite. “What are your ambitions? What do you want to get out of life?”
“Until yesterday? I just wanted a permanent roof over my and Lenny’s heads and a job that didn’t involve doing dodgy stuff.”
“With Emmy, you’d get the former, but there’d be a certain amount of risk involved with the job. But it strikes me that you’re the kind of girl who thrives on taking chances. How did you feel after you followed Hegler to the airport and got hold of his rental car paperwork?”
Pretty freaking elated. Who wouldn’t if they managed to get one over on a thief without being caught?
“Happy,” I admitted. “Satisfied that I’d got the job done.”
“Multiply that by a thousand. How would you feel then?”
“Higher than I’d ever get on drugs.”
“There’s your answer.”
“But…”
“But what?”
“Emmy said…well, not said, exactly, but suggested…that she might kill people.”
Alaric fell silent, staring into his coffee.
“You didn’t know?” I asked. “I’m not sure murder sits well with me.”
“No, I knew. I’m just trying to work out how much to tell you.”
Oh. “Like, because it’s classified or something?”
“Emmy’s work goes beyond classified.”
“You could tell me, but then you’d have to kill me?”
“I prefer not to get my hands dirty anymore.”
“Wait a minute… You kill people too?”
“Killed. Past tense. Sometimes, in our world, death is a necessary evil.” Alaric sighed and put his cup down on the table. “If these words go any farther than this room, we’ll both have to face Emmy’s wrath. Got it?”
“Got it.”
Emmy’s wrath was not something I’d risk voluntarily. My lips would stay firmly sealed no matter what Alaric told me.
“Three years ago, Emmy planned and executed a raid on a drug compound in Colombia. She neutralised the leader of a major cartel and disrupted the supply of tainted cocaine to a large part of the eastern seaboard. Two years ago, a group of terrorists got damn close to carrying out a biological attack at Dulles airport. Emmy tackled the terrorist and stopped thousands of people from getting infected with a virus you don’t want to hear about. Three months after that, she led a team to Siberia and terminated a rogue general who had, among other things, a nuclear weapon in his possession. That’s what Emmy does, and yes, occasionally people die. But because people die, the rest of us get to sleep a little more soundly at night.”
“I didn’t realise…”
“Not many people do, and that’s the way it has to stay.”
“Wait. She thinks I can do that stuff?”
“Apparently she does.”
“But…but… I don’t know the first thing about drugs—apart from maybe trying them a time or two—or viruses, or freaking Siberia. I never even sat my GCSEs because I was too busy trying to take care of Lenny.”
That had been after his first overdose. I’d literally handcuffed myself to him while he went through withdrawal because it was the only way I could stop him from scoring more drugs. He’d even threatened to kill me once if I didn’t let him go, but I still refused to do so—I couldn’t—although I’d been terrified the whole time.
“If you want to learn, Emmy’ll make sure you get the best teachers, that much I can tell you. She never settles for second best.”
“What if I’m not good enough?”
Yes, I planned to quit after six months, but on my terms. If I failed? I hated losing.
“If you’re not good enough for her Special Projects team, then I’m sure she’ll find you a more appropriate role. Maybe something in the London office. If you do your best and don’t mess her around, she won’t kick you into oblivion if you don’t quite make the cut.”
“The London office?”
That would bring me back to Lenny, and if I had three hundred grand plus a steady income, I’d be set. Even if I got to work as a cleaner, it would still be better than serving tequila dressed as a slutty cowgirl.
But six months of hell…
I needed to change the subject. I needed space to think. Alaric had helped to clarify the situation, but could I overcome my own doubts and fears enough to go to the US? Damned if I didn’t, damned if I did…
“Did you find Hegler?” I asked.
“Not yet, but we’re working on it. People are checking into anyone with that name, and we’re also trying to get hold of the flight plans for all private jets that left Heathrow on Wednesday afternoon. Something’ll shake loose.”
“Do you regret delivering the painting?”