Split Second

Page 11

“Restore memories? How do you even know that’s how your ability would advance?”
“I don’t.” She said it, but I heard the hum in her voice that meant she was lying.
“You do. How?”
“I don’t. I just think it would be cool.”
“Why are you lying to me? I’m so tired of people lying to me. Do I not deserve the truth? Do I look like someone who can’t handle it?”
“You told me I could restore memories before I Erased yours.”
CHAPTER 12
Laila: Remind me to think before I speak next time.
All I could hear were Addie’s quiet breaths. In. Out. This was not something I should’ve told her over the phone. What was I thinking? “Addie?”
“What do you mean I told you? Why would I tell you that?”
I cringed. I should stop and wait to tell her the rest when I saw her.
“Tell me,” she said, her voice strong.
“Because you wanted me to restore yours. You wouldn’t tell me why. You actually didn’t even tell me that I could restore memories. You wrote yourself a note. In that note you told me.”
“If I wrote myself a note, why do you seem to know its contents and I know nothing?”
Because I’m selfish. “Because I didn’t want to stress you out any more than you already were. I just wanted to learn how to restore memories and then surprise you with it when I came next week.”
“Surprise me with the fact that you’ve damaged your mind by hanging out with Bobby-like criminals?”
“It sounds like brain damage can happen regardless of who I hang out with.”
Addie went completely silent, and I squeezed my eyes closed.
“I’m sorry. You don’t have brain damage. You’re going to be fine. Talk to your dad about it. He’ll probably know what to do.”
“He told me to rest.”
“See. There you go. Rest.” She didn’t sound like she thought that would help, but her dad was smart. She probably did need rest. The Bobby situation got to her more than it did me. Her headaches probably had more to do with that than anything. I hadn’t had a single headache since that night. And besides, her note was proof to me that I was fine when my ability advanced before, in the other version of her life. I would be fine in this version too. “Just trust me. You wanted me to restore your memory. I’m going to figure out how. Do you trust me?” I shouldn’t have asked the question, because I wasn’t sure if she did anymore. Not since Duke.
“I don’t want you to get hurt. Will you just use the DAA program? I can wait if it takes a while to work, Laila.”
I couldn’t help but notice she hadn’t answered the question. “Yes, I’ll use it.”
“And the note?”
“I’ll give it to you when I come.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll talk to you soon.”
She hung up. She knew as well as I did that I wasn’t going to wait. I didn’t have awhile to sit around and wait for the DAA’s program to work. I wanted to advance my ability now. I laced my heeled boots and applied some gloss.
As I parked the truck, a motorcycle rumbled up behind me. I should’ve known who it was by the confident way he dismounted, but I couldn’t tell for sure until he took off his helmet and ran his fingers through his shiny hair.
I stepped out of the truck. “You even made it sound like a Norm motorcycle.”
“I knew you’d come here without me even though I told you not to,” Connor said, ignoring my comment.
“How did you know I’d come tonight, though?”
He reached into the bed of my truck and pulled a tiny metal device from beneath the rim. “Tracker.” He pocketed it. “And they’re expensive, so I’m glad it didn’t get lost.”
Anger surged through me. “You were tracking me?”
“Does that bother you, princess?” He took off his gloves and tucked them in his back pocket. “I don’t trust you.”
“Then next time just shove the tracker down my throat, for more accurate data.”
“I would’ve, but I wasn’t sure you’d end up here in forty-eight hours, and like I said, these things are expensive.”
“Well, for the record, I don’t trust you either.” It was a grade-school comeback, but I couldn’t think of anything else to say. “And I don’t need you here tonight.”
“I’m not here for you. I’m here so you don’t ruin my relationship with my supplier.”
“I wasn’t even going to mention your name. But I’m pretty sure he’ll know who sent me now, since, you know, he’ll see you.”
“Just let me do the talking and shut those pretty little lips of yours.”
“Little? I’ve actually been told they’re quite full, which makes them very hard to shut.”
“You are infuriating.”
“I was thinking the same thing about you.”
By this time we were at the door, and Connor knocked. When no one answered, he started to leave. “Guess he’s not here.”
“Okay, see you later.” I rang the doorbell several times, and Connor sighed and rejoined me on the porch. Eventually, the door slid open. A man in his midtwenties answered. He didn’t look like I expected he would. He was clean-cut, shaven, with unmarked skin. First he looked at me, and I could tell he liked what he saw. That would help. Then he looked at Connor, and his stance relaxed.
“Oh hey, man. What’s up?”
“Can we talk inside?”
“Sure.” He stepped aside, and I walked in first. I didn’t need Connor here, and I wanted him to know that.
“Are you here to pick up another pack already? That was fast.”
“No.” He pointed to me. “I’m here because of her.”
“I can see how she might be compelling, but you know that’s not how I work.”
“I know.”
I cleared my throat. “Look, I would’ve found you with or without Boy Wonder here. I’m here for information. I want to advance my ability. I want you to help me. It’s as simple as that.”
He laughed. “I think you’ve mistaken this for the DAA. Does this look like the DAA to you?”
I knew his question was rhetorical, but I looked around anyway. Cases like Connor’s covered tabletops, and several laptops were open and running through mind patterns. “It looks like an illegal operation that the DAA wouldn’t like. Last I checked they prefer to be the sole provider of ability advancement. The Bureau seems to agree with that concept as well.”
He glared at Connor. “Did you bring a narc into my house?”
“She’s just a spoiled brat looking for something to occupy her time.”
Spoiled? I had to clamp back the laugh that wanted to escape. If only. Whatever. It beat him knowing the truth and feeling sorry for me.
He walked back to the door. “Is this some sort of juvenile lovers’ quarrel? I don’t know why you felt the need for a witness. Get out.” Suddenly, his face changed to that of a greasy-haired older man with a goatee.
I tilted my head. “You’re a Perceptive.” He had made me see him the way he wanted me to see him. Now I wondered which of his faces was real.
“Very good. You have brains in that gorgeous head of yours. Now use them to get out of my house.”
I crossed my arms. “No. I’m not going to turn you in to any sort of authority. I just want to advance my ability. You are obviously exceptionally advanced in yours. Teach me.”
At this point, Connor grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the door. I twisted out of his hold. “Don’t touch me.”
“This is my life you’re messing with.”
“Wait,” the Perceptive said. He had added a tattoo of a cross to his neck . . . or maybe took away the illusion covering the tattoo, I still couldn’t tell. “What’s your ability?”
“None of your business.”
“You just made it my business.”
“I did? You’re entering into an agreement with me?” I plopped down on the closest chair. “Good. When do we start the training?”
He looked at Connor as if he thought Connor had any sort of control over me.
“Come here.” He beckoned me to follow him, and I did without a glance in Connor’s direction.
He led me into a room filled with digital images projected onto the walls. People, places, words. It was overwhelming and made me a little dizzy. I leaned against the wall.
“What is all this?” A metal bird sat perched on the desk, and I studied it. “Is that a listening device? Are you recording this?”
“Sit,” he told me.
I sat.
“Put your palm on that black pad there.” He pointed to a palm scanner on the desk.
“Why?”
He raised one eyebrow, and I put my palm on the black pad. Nothing happened. I glanced around the room at the images. I didn’t recognize any of the people, and as I continued to watch, I realized the places all looked unfamiliar as well. These were images from the Outside. “Did you hack into the Containment Committee surveillance?”
He didn’t answer. After a few minutes, he said, “You’re clean.”
“I could’ve told you that. We didn’t need the dramatics.”
“Okay, here are the terms. Five hundred bucks a lesson. Any indication, even the slightest hint, that you are going to talk, this”—he pointed to his face—“disappears with your money.”
“Five hundred bucks? Impossible. I can’t.”
Connor let out a laugh, and I shot him a look.
“Those are my terms,” he said. “Take them or leave them.”
The room was so high-tech, possibly a room straight from the Bureau’s own computers. Maybe he had hacked information from the Department of Ability Advancement as well. His ability was more advanced than that of any Perceptive I’d ever seen. I wanted him to teach me. Needed him to. He was good. “My brother is almost fourteen and he still hasn’t Presented. If you can help him too, then you have yourself a deal.”
His dark eyes were hard and held my stare. He was the first to break contact and reached into a drawer, pulling out an electronic clip. “He can’t come here, but I’ll do you a favor. Tell your brother to stop using the DAA program and use this for a week. It will be my little gift of good faith to you.” He held it out to me. “I’m Face, by the way.”
I took the clip. “Laila.”
As we walked down the driveway, I glanced back at the front door. It was shut tight. I wondered which face was his real one. This was definitely a problem in the having-anything-to-blackmail-him-with department.
Connor chuckled.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You don’t think I can get five hundred dollars?”
“I know you can’t. You are broke.” He said the word broke with two syllables. He grabbed his helmet off the seat of his bike. “Maybe you can ask your daddy for some money.”