A Girl Undone (14 page)

He yanked open the chain-link cage, ordered the dogs out, and then threw her in. She tumbled back as he snapped the lock shut. “You signed a contract,” he said, jabbing his finger at her. “There’s no ‘I changed my mind, I want to go home.’ You made a deal.”

“I’ll pay you back. You’ll get your money, I promise. No matter how long it takes.”

The temperature was below freezing, and the wind swept loose snow up in the air. She wrapped her arms across her chest and stuck her hands in her armpits.

“I sank twenty thousand into getting you here, not to mention the risk I took bringing you in. I don’t believe you can pay that back.”

“But I made a mistake,” she pleaded. “I didn’t realize.”

“I don’t believe that, Bree. You’re a smart girl, and smart girls know what they’re getting into.”

“I didn’t know you’d take my passport. I didn’t know you’d make me change my name.”

“Bullshit. You knew you were coming here to get married, and married women change their names.”

“I didn’t know I’d have to pretend I was Bree Greeley from Topecka.”

“That’s Topeka, Bree.”

“Stop calling me Bree. It’s not my name.”

“I really don’t give a flying—” Streicker turned his back on her and strode toward the gate.

“You’re going to leave me out here like this? It’s freezing.”

“It’s up to you, Bree,” he called over his shoulder. “Put on the outfit, do the photo shoot, and honor your contract.”

I ran after Streicker. “Why don’t you let her go? If she doesn’t want to be here, she’ll just make trouble for you.”

“Like you did for Jessop Hawkins?”

Whoa.
“I guess I am an example of what can go wrong.”

“I can’t let Bree change her mind. Not with five other girls watching. It will set a precedent.”

I shook my head, frustrated. The girl stood back from the chain link, her shoulders hunched against the cold as Lugar and Glock paced outside the kennel.

“Of course, you could take her place,” Streicker said. “You become Bree Greeley, and I set this girl free.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“Not at all. She gets to walk away. You disappear into a safe new life with a new identity. Forget your fool’s errand of trying to save the world.” Streicker laughed when I didn’t answer. “No, on second thought that’s too easy. You wouldn’t have to tell Luke about the reporters hankering for the truth about that girl who set herself on fire.”

Streicker had
me
cornered, but for some reason I couldn’t walk away from that girl in the kennel. “You don’t have to let the other girls know you’re setting her free. Tell her to fake the photo shoot. Send her back in a few days.”

Streicker’s eyes narrowed. “You’re full of creative ideas, aren’t you? I will not spend a dime to get Bree over the border. And I will not give back her passport. It won’t come close to covering what it cost to get her here. You understand?”

“Yeah. Got it.”
Prick.

Streicker walked off, and I looked back at the girl shivering inside the cage, the snow pelting her. I knew how she felt—lost and desperate to go home.

I couldn’t give her the money she needed or get her back her passport. I couldn’t do a damned thing—except get her coat.

I tore back to the metal building, and grabbed her red down jacket and stuck it under my arm. Then I dashed toward the kennel, knowing Lola was probably watching at the kitchen window. “Here,” I said, stuffing the girl’s hat and gloves through the chain link. She pulled them on, and together we worked her jacket under the gate.

Her name was Hanna and her lips were blue. “Thank you. He’s not going to set me free, is he?”

“No. He won’t return your passport, and he won’t pay the bribes to get you over the border.”

“My dad would pay.”

“He would?”

“For sure. He begged me not to leave. I can’t believe I was so stupid.”

I glanced at the house. No sign of Streicker or Lola. I didn’t want to leave Hanna out here by herself. “You must have had a good reason for coming though.”

“I thought I did. I couldn’t see myself as a miner’s wife, living on so little, knowing that one day I could hear those two sharp whistles, telling me I was a widow. So when Mr. Streicker told me he could arrange to marry me to a nice rancher in America, I thought, all right. But I didn’t count on it being like this.”

“Yeah, it’s not what you imagined.” I squinted against the blowing snow. It was icy, and felt like tiny nicks on my skin. “Can your father really come up with twenty thousand dollars?”

“It might be hard, but he’d do it. He’d be happy to have me back behind the bar at his tavern.”

Maybe Streicker would return her passport, if I told him that Hanna’s dad would pay to get her back. I didn’t want to get her hopes up, though.

“I’m going inside, but I’ll check on you, okay?”

She nodded. “Thank you for the coat.”

“It was the least I could do.”

The least I could do wasn’t nearly enough. I walked back to the house, determined to persuade Streicker to let her go. He had plenty of passports. He could give Hanna hers.

19

Lola looked up from her never-ending baking when I walked in. “Boots,” she said, pointing at the row beside the door, and gave her dough a twist. I wrestled off my boots and lined them up with the rest.

The Sportswall was on in the front room, so I knew Streicker was there, too. I padded down the hall in my wool socks, trying not to slide on the slick wood.

Streicker was sitting with his back to me when I heard him say, “D.C.’s covered with cameras and security forces. You’d have a hard time taking out Jouvert. Best place to strike would be an outdoor rally.”

What?
I hung back, listening hard.

“You want a midsize city with a warm climate like Fresno or Greensboro,” Streicker continued. “A city that can’t afford a big police force.”

Luke mumbled something that I strained to catch.

“Yeah, you’d need access to Jouvert’s travel schedule. The timing’s good, though. Politicians in every state want him to help with their campaigns. Not hard to guess where he’ll show up.”

This isn’t happening. Oh God. Luke, show me I’m wrong.

“From what I saw earlier, you could use a sniper rifle, but you’d have a better chance of getting the job done if you got closer.”

I stepped into the room. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Luke’s head snapped up, and the look he gave me was the same as when he took the thumb drive away and hung it around his neck. “We’re talking about putting an end to Jouvert.”

“You mean, assassinating him.”

“It looks like that’s the only way to stop him.”

“That’s murder!”

“What other option does Luke have, Avie?” Streicker nailed me with his eyes.
It’s your own fault, girl. You wouldn’t tell Luke about the reporters.

“You put him up to this!” I said. “You hate Jouvert, and you’re manipulating Luke into doing your dirty work!”

“No, he isn’t, Avie.”

I wheeled and faced Luke.
I don’t believe you
.
Say it isn’t true.

“It was my idea. Not his.”

I looked back and forth between the two of them, and I didn’t know who I hated more, but I had to get away from them. Now!

I wrenched open the door and ran, forgetting I had no shoes on until I hit the third step and my ankle folded under, and I fell, slamming my shoulder on the ground. Pain shot up my left side.

I scrambled to my feet, knowing my ankle was sprained, but I had to put distance between me and Luke and that monster he’d sold his soul to. I tore down the drive, snow pelting my face, the gravel hammering my feet through my socks. The road was empty. No cars, no houses, no signs of life in either direction. I turned right and ran through the pain.

Luke must have planned this all along. That’s why he brought us here.

He lied and led me on. He pretended this was about honoring Maggie’s sacrifice and continuing her work, but it wasn’t.

I trusted him!

“Avie! Avie! Stop!”

Luke was sprinting after me, so I ran harder. “Go away! Leave me alone!”

I was running full out, but he was gaining on me. Rocks littered the drainage ditch on the side of the road, and I swooped down and snatched up one the size of a baseball. Then I stopped, and took a stance, sinking my weight on my good ankle, and drew my arm back. “Stay away from me.”

Luke came to a halt, and hunched over, breathing hard. “Avie, we gotta talk.”

“You lied to me. You were planning this all along.”

“No I wasn’t. I swear.”

“I don’t believe you. You brought us
here.
To Streicker’s
house
. You keep saying you want justice, but I think what you really want is revenge.”

“Yeah, sure I want revenge.” Luke straightened and faced off with me. “I admit it. Jouvert gave those agents the order to attack my family. He gave them permission to kill my parents.”

“Killing Jouvert isn’t the answer. It’s murder. It’s a
sin.
”

“I don’t care if I go to hell.”

“Well, I care! I care!”

There was the slightest shift in Luke’s face, a flicker in his eyes.

I realized I had to stop him. That I was the only person who
could
stop him. “Killing Jouvert won’t bring justice for your family. It will just make him a hero. Is that what you want?”

“No, it’s not. But you said yourself, we got no more options right now.”

Snow was soaking through my sweater, and I was losing the energy to stand. My foot burned from the ice coating the road. Okay, fine, I give up, I thought, and tossed the rock onto the shoulder.

Luke needed me to help him get Maggie’s testimony to the reporters. He wouldn’t go to Canada, and I couldn’t leave him with Streicker.

I knew what I was about to tell him might get us both killed, but I had to give up believing we could come out of this in one piece. No matter what we did, we’d be lucky to survive.

“We can get Jouvert,” I said. “There’s another way.” I teetered on my good leg, then dropped in a heap on the pavement.

Luke shifted his weight, and I sensed him fighting with himself not to rush over and pick me up.

“Streicker heard about two reporters who are investigating the cover-up of Sparrow’s suicide,” I told him. “They’re looking for the proof of Jouvert’s crimes that she claimed she had.”

The blowing snow was a screen between us. “I wish you’d told me before now,” Luke said.

“I’m sorry. I probably should have.”

“So I’ll go to D.C. and you’ll go to Canada.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I’m coming with you. Maggie asked me to see this through and I am.”

Luke crouched down beside me, and sighed. “I don’t need to tell you how dangerous this could be.”

“Nope. I already know.”

“There’s a truck coming. How about you put your arms around my neck and we’ll get you off this road?”

I clasped my hands behind his neck, and Luke lifted me into his arms and I saw how Streicker’s house was barely visible in the distance. “Ugh,” I said. “I didn’t realize how far I ran.”

“Yeah, it’s a good quarter mile. You can sure fly when you get going.”

Luke carried me toward the house, and after we’d gone only twenty feet the truck blew by, pelting us with wet snow. Luke stumbled in the truck draft, before he caught himself.

“You should let me walk,” I told him. “I’m too heavy to carry that far.”

“Nah, you don’t weigh more than a day-old foal.”

Our faces were so close, his breath warmed my cheeks.

“Why’d you hold off on telling me about the reporters?” Luke said.

“I was afraid it was either a rumor and you’d risk your life to chase it, or if it was true, I was scared those reporters wouldn’t have what it takes to not get themselves or you killed.”

Luke didn’t answer, so I was sure that meant he was mad. But when he started up the porch steps, he said, “Maybe I’d have done the same if it was you.”

He lowered me onto the porch, and I stood facing him, my hand lingering on his shoulder. He looked into my eyes, and I knew that if things had been different, we would have kissed.

My heart tumbled with emotion. What Luke and I were going through together was so intense, so extreme, and what we knew and had learned about each other made it feel like we’d packed years into only a few days. But these feelings weren’t like the love I had with Yates—they couldn’t be—I’d known Yates my whole life. I tried to steady my heartbeat, slow it down.

“Come on, let’s get you patched up,” Luke said.

I dreaded facing Streicker, but luckily, he’d ducked out the back. Lola sat me down in the kitchen so she could bandage my ankle, allowing me a clear view of Streicker talking to Hanna. Lola finished wrapping, and pulled out another chair. “Put your foot up. I’ll get you ice.”

I glanced at the kennel. “I will, but I need to do something first.” I got up and wrestled on my boots and coat, and hobbled out to the back.

“What the hell do you want?” Streicker snapped as I approached.

I waited to answer until I got to the kennel, and shoved Sparrow’s forged passport through the chain-link fence. “I’m giving Hanna my passport.”

Hanna snatched the passport off the ground and hugged it to her chest. “Thank you!”

If looks could kill, the one Streicker gave me wouldn’t have left a trace behind.

“Her father will pay to bring her home,” I said.

Just you wait, his look told me.

I stared back.
Go ahead.

“You need to act like you’re being auctioned today,” I told Hanna.

“I will. I will. Thank you so much. You saved my life.”

“Not yet, she hasn’t,” Streicker said.

The snow stung my face as I limped back to the house, but I had a fire inside me. I wasn’t getting out, but Hanna was. I couldn’t guarantee Luke and I would be successful in our mission or even survive, but at least now Luke wouldn’t destroy himself trying to get revenge. Dad used to say that sometimes there are no good choices, only choices that are less awful.

Now we had to get the hell away from Streicker before anything else happened.