The Temp (17 page)

37

“Damn it.”

Trigger kicked the door again.

It didn’t matter how much noise he made.

It did.

There were neighbours. He couldn’t attract too much attention. He’d already knocked several times.              

He needed another way in.

He flipped up her welcome mat, nothing. His hand brushed along the top of the door frame, clutching around a cold shape. He brought down the key. He sighed, Eve, such an obvious location, when this was all over he’d tell her the dangers of leaving her front key for anyone to find, especially considering the circumstances.

He unlocked the door.

Trigger had never stepped into Eve’s apartment before though he had an idea of what it would look like. He was mistaken.

The place was in chaos, like it had been in a whirlpool. Things were strewn about. Glass lay smashed on the floor, its shards tracked into the carpet. Pillows had been slashed like tires, there guts out like dissected teddy bears. His adrenaline spiked as he considered the possibilities.

Something had definitely gone down here.
Eve.
He ran to the closet and yanked out the drawers. They were empty. What few possessions she had were gone.

Eve was gone.

38

Eve shuffled up the queue.
Her heart raced a mile a minute as she clutched her things to her. She was well aware of the man watching her.

He wore a colourless anorak, two warm for this weather. His pale glasses blended into his square face and his hands were constantly in his pockets.

A man who fell easily into the background.

It had been less than an hour. She’d seen the man across the street from her apartment. They’d locked eyes in one horrific moment, her heart had lurched. He didn’t look away. Then he started crossing the street.

That’s when she bolted down the side street.

She didn’t stop until she reached the subway and boarded the first train. She was almost certain he hadn’t managed to get on the same one. Eve was quick and nimble. She’d believed she was safe for those fleeting minutes. How naïve she was. How stupid she felt now. 

She carried a shoulder strap gym bag filled to the brim on one arm, the other had her handbag. This was what all her worldly possessions had come down to. Two bags. It wasn’t the first time all her worldly possessions had been packed into two measly bags. There was the foster home, then Grams, then when she left. Eve knew how to pack by now.

She stood in the queue at Grand Central station, nudging closer to the front. The train station wasn’t exactly busy at this time of night, not a place she could easily loose herself into a crowd and disappear like she’d hoped.

The man stood three down; within earshot which meant whatever ticket she ordered from the booth. He’d know exactly where she was headed, which was why she’d ordered three tickets to three different locations. The idea had come at last minute, tripling the price of freedom and tripling her chances of getting away.

“Sorry Miss, it’s says your card was declined,” said the woman at the front desk.

“What, it’s not possible. I got paid the other day,” Eve’s voice reached higher into hysteria. She tried to control herself. “Could you please try it again?”

She glanced back at the man in the anorak. A second queue opened up, shuffling half the people to the other side.

He shuffled forward, until he was only one away from her.

“Sorry Miss, it was declined again,” said the attendant.

Oh god.
It had to be the blackmailers. It had to be. She’d never even considered they could have so much power. How did they know? Did Trigger do this? Did he send the man in the anorak?

A shudder ran through her like iced water. She should have acted natural with Trigger. If they had control of her cards she really was a lamb to the slaughter.

Eve stole into her purse. She had less than twenty dollars on her, how could she have contemplated running away with so little? She’d acted rash, hadn’t thought through the plan, or else she might have been smart enough to put some money away.

“Can you try this card?” Eve retrieved another card.

The attendant swiped it through. “Declined.”

Eve looked into her purse again; a gold streaked card stared back at her from her purse.
No, anything but that card.
She glanced behind her getting a full-on smile from anorak man. She pulled out the card. It was her last resort. She was running from her blackmailers and if she used this card she’d jump on the radar of someone else she was running from too. Eve scrunched up her eyes, she was determined not to break down here of all places. 

“Miss, do you have another card?” said the attendant, irritation leaking into her voice.

The card
,
that card,
it was the better of two evils.

“Yes, please run this one,” with trembling fingers Eve took out the card, almost slipping from her grasp.

She stole a look behind her and came face to face with the man who’d been watching her.

The attendant swiped through the card.

There was an electronic whir from the machine.

“Miss, it says I need to call the bank,” said the attendant.

“What?” Eve turned back.

“This card has been flagged. You need to come with me.”

Eve stepped back from the partition glass.

“Miss? Miss? I’m going to have to call security.”

Eve swivelled and ran.

39

“Eve,” Trigger had to be hallucinating.
“Is it really you?”

It couldn’t be. Eve was long gone.

“Yes,” she sat down next to him on the stairs. “You look terrible.” Her eyes were big and wide and glassy as they gazed into his, her cheeks puffy and raw. She’d been crying that much was clear. A duffel bag clung to her side.

“What are you doing here?” he said rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He still wasn’t sure if this was real or not. He’d fallen asleep on her step, in front of her door where the door stepped down into the corridor. He glanced at his watch, it was close to midnight.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she said. Eve was different, reserved. She was far from the panicked thing he’d spoken to earlier in the night.
Denial?

“I thought you’d run away,” his throat was hoarse as if he’d been shouting for the last hour. Every part of this was surreal and completely at odds with what he believed she would do.

“I had,” Eve fingered her jacket over her lap as her legs crossed.

Trigger scooted over. Their shoulders pressed together. He felt her cool body against his, her slender curves, resisting the urge to pull her into him. “So why are you here?”

“You know why, they froze all my cards.” This time Trigger heard a hint of fear in her voice, it was so feint he couldn’t be sure. As if she’d come to some realisation.

“You told them I was running,” her gaze fell on him; there was nothing accusatory about it, an acceptance, a stinging betrayal perhaps.

“I didn’t. Eve, I swear.” 

“Whose side are you on?”

“Yours Eve, you have to believe me. I care about what happens to you. I didn’t want to think what they could do”-

“Ok.”

“You don’t believe me.”

“I guess I have no choice,” Eve got up and opened her front door.

“So you’re not running away?” Trigger stood at the door. He had her apartment key in his pocket. He teetered over the threshold of her place; he was worn through like an old boot. This world of corporate espionage had taken its toll on him, especially when he was in charge of the lives of others.

“Trigger we should talk,” she said stepping in.

Trigger followed.

40

“You look like shit,” Eve said.

Trigger rubbed his eyes. “I’ve never heard you swear before.”

“Desperate times”-she sighed.

“Speaking of desperate,” he waved a hand over her crumpled apartment. “You staged all this?”

“How did you know?”

“There was no blood. I played a hunch.”

“It was a dumb idea, I hoped it might throw them off,” Eve didn’t look at him.

“You would have left me to clean up your mess.” Trigger moved around her broken apartment, his gaze flitting to her, to her things. Eve shrugged. “Where are your roommates?”

“Don’t have any.”

“Why not?”

“I like my privacy.”

Trigger laughed to himself. “Ok.”

“What?”

“What kind of a girl lives alone in New York at your age?”

“Me.”

“You’re on the run from everything, your past, your secrets. You’re afraid someone will find”-

“Spare me the psyche profile,” Eve mumbled as she grabbed something from a drawer and tucked it in her duffle bag.

“You’re still leaving,” he said, locking on her.

She couldn’t look at him right now, she couldn’t be this close and control her anger, her fear, her…everything.

“Excuse me,” Eve left to the bathroom, splashing water on her face. In the mirror she was a hollowed on version of the girl from before, no longer strong, no longer in control. This was how it would be from now on, out of her control. When she returned Trigger sat on the sofa. He was holding something, a paper of some kind.

As she neared it came into view. “Where did you get that?” her blood ran cold.

“I took it out of your bag, Eve I”-she snatched the photographs out of his hand.

“Is this what you’re running from? Is he your family?”

Eve didn’t answer as she lingered on the photographs. They were of her, as a child with a man and a dog outside a house she recognised. There were other photographs like it, one with a boy a few years older than her.

These were the photos she’d been sent by the blackmailers.

This was how they’d coerced her.

“Why does that man look so familiar?”

“We agreed we wouldn’t share our secrets.”

“We never agreed,” his voice was resigned, which was exactly how she felt right. Resigned. Determined. Exhausted. High on adrenaline. It made for a sickening concoction. Trigger wore a beige coloured overcoat washing out his blonde hair. His jaw was hard and there was a days’ stubble on his chin. “Who is he? Tell me, Eve.”

“No.”

“You look like him. He’s your father isn’t he?”

“Not anymore.”

“Tell me, Eve.” 

“Tell me your secret,” she shot back.

“I ran away from my past years ago and now it’s catching up to me and by the look of things I’d say your past is doing the same.”

“Are you still”-Eve broke off. She mouthed the words to him.
Are you still wearing a bug?
Trigger nodded and pulled out the wire.
I need to talk,
she mouthed eying the device.

“Mind if I use your bathroom?” Trigger stood up, motioning her to follow and walked into the bathroom. He turned on the shower head and the faucets until all that could be heard was a waterfall. Trigger placed the device outside the bathroom door. “You’ve got five minutes to tell me what’s going on Eve. Starting now.”

Eve shuddered. “You’re sure they can’t hear us?”

He nodded, his blue eyes startling her in the harsh light.

“There was a van outside the apartment and a man at the train station.”

Trigger didn’t say anything for a while. “I told you to be careful. They’re watching you to make sure their investment is doing her job.”

A shiver ran down her spine. “Am I”-her voice broke off. “Am I safe?” her bottom lip trembled, her skin iced all over. The man before her closed the distance and held her in his arms. She tried to resist it, found herself in dire need of human contact. His warmth encircled her, it had been so long since she’d been held, touched.

“As long as I’m here to protect you, you’re safe,” he said. She nodded into him. “You can’t ignore my calls from now on.” She caught his quick change of subject, “Eve, I care maybe more than I should.”

“Do you think they bugged me, my place, are they watching us right now? I checked myself, I couldn’t find anything.”

“It’s hard to say. Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary?”

Eve sighed. “No.”

“I’m your handler Eve. They can listen in to what we say so there’s not much point in bugging you too. Please, put it out of your mind.” He stroked her hair. There was something so disarming, so vulnerable in his eyes as he held her at arms length. He took her hand and led her out of the bathroom and onto the sofa.

Eve sat down next to him, her hands on her knees. She felt his warmth through the fabric of her top.

They could no longer talk in private anymore.

“What’s the point? Roman doesn’t want me. I can do my job, that’s it.”

“No, no. That’s no longer going to work. You have to get him back. Do whatever it takes,” Trigger rubbed his chin.

“I was only supposed to be a temp for a few weeks.”

He met her gaze head on. He didn’t need to say it. It suddenly occurred to Eve, starred her so blatantly in the face. She’d been a fool for not seeing it.

“I was lied to, wasn’t I?” she whispered.

Trigger sat back on the sofa draping one arm over the back. “How so?”

“Oh come on, even you had to know there was no point bringing on someone new for a few weeks. I’m a temp for god sakes, a bloody temp and there’s nothing they could do to put me in league with you, not unless”-

“Unless what?”

Eve swallowed. “Unless,” like a light bulb the answer was before her. She should have seen it all along. “Unless, I sleep my way to the top.”

Trigger pulled out chewing gum and offered it to her, “I quit smoking years ago, lately I’ve been craving.” He got up and paced the room again.

“You’ve already come to this conclusion or else you knew all along,” betrayal stung her face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Think of it this way, darling, from their perspective. You’re smart, you’re stunning and you’re a prime candidate for blackmail. They didn’t expect you to be so innocent, not with your upbringing. All they had to do was dangle you in front of Roman and if they were right you’d reel him in, if they were lucky it would be more than lust.”

Eve crouched on the sofa, her hands cupping over her knees. “I can’t believe you,” she said almost to herself.

“Deny it all you want, I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” She blinked up. “They got lucky.”