sass and good heart. One regular in dirty clothes with a permanent alcohol glaze in his eye was given free food and a hug the same as everyone else. The world needed more Annies.
“You boys doing okay?” She beamed as she wrapped an arm around Hector’s shoulders and squeezed before leaning on the edge of the table. Waist-length platinum-blond hair was teased into a stiff, hairspray-coated, billowing cloud, turning her into a Rapunzel of the Bible Belt. As for her fannie, I wouldn’t say it was fat, but if you were an ass man, there was more than enough to catch your eye. Earlier, I’d seen her catch a few country boys gawking from the counter. She’d turned to slap it briskly in their direction. She’d laughed. “Double helpings, boys, and more than pups the likes of you can handle.”
“Doing good, Miss Annie,” I said politely, sliding a look toward Hector as I wondered how to insinuate that he was a fan of the fannie. From the stone-faced glare I received in return, it was plain to see that he was doing a little mind reading of his own. Letting the opportunity at humiliation go, I added, “Best fried biscuits in Georgia.”
“Damn straight there.” She beamed even brighter behind thick pancake makeup and bright green eye shadow. And before I could anticipate it, she wrapped her hand around my bare wrist as it rested on the table. “What’s with the gloves, cutie-pie? You look like O. J. Simpson.”
“Um. Poison ivy.” I gave her a plastic smile. “Nasty case. Don’t want to give it to anybody.”
“You poor thing. You have the calamine? Nothing works like the calamine, except for an oatmeal bath.” She let go of my wrist to give me the same hug she’d given Hector. “You be sure to do that tonight before bed. Coat up good with oatmeal. It’ll do right by you, you’ll see.” And then she was gone, and my hand flashed out to yank Hector’s plate of barbecue away before he could take a bite.
“What are you doing?” he asked, baffled, already reaching out to pull it back.
“You don’t want to eat it,” I said darkly. “Trust me.”
He let his hand drop and said cautiously, “Do I even want to know why?”
“Probably not.” Annie was over at the counter with an arm around each of those blushing boys and laughing like a loon. It seemed that our good-hearted hostess didn’t like the dogs that ran in the neighborhood. Loud, digging in the garbage, giving those stupid dog grins when she chased them with a broom. No, Miss Annie didn’t like that at all. And if the little shits were stupid enough to come up to you when one hand was filled with food and the other held your old butcher knife, well, it couldn’t be a sin to do what had to be done, right? Worthless creatures. Even God made a mistake once in a while. And waste not, want not.
“Let’s just say Miss Annie is the reason they don’t need an animal shelter in these parts.”
I made my way methodically through the side orders in front of me, only because I doubted I would’ve been able to get up from the table under my own power if I hadn’t. My appetite had taken some serious blows today, no way around it.
Hector, meanwhile, let it alone-the situation, the barbecue, and everything else on his plate-as he turned green. Normal people. They were so damn lucky. I remembered what it was like before I was fourteen, before Tess’s shoe. Ignorance was bliss-one of the oldest cliches around, and it had every right to be. Nothing was more true. Finally, Hector chanced one biscuit, saying wearily, “We’re done for the day. And tomorrow…” He turned his glass jar of tea one way, then the other. “Tomorrow, if our calculations are correct, Charlie will try to come through, somewhere.”
I wondered if it was still Charlie, the way he had been. Intelligence, emotion, memory-was that what was trying to return home, or was it a blind amorphous urge and nothing more? Just a leftover instinct with nothing behind it?
“How will that go?” I asked with reluctant curiosity.
“We’ll have teams at the most logical locations. The ones authenticated and with the highest violence quotient. The higher the latter, the more extensive the ‘fraying.’ The teams will move in if a violence cycle begins to repeat and, hopefully, prevent any further deaths. You’ll have a few of Charlie’s things and see if you can pinpoint it when he does come through. If you can get the location the moment he appears, that team can move in immediately, and we can rush the equipment in.” He exhaled, one corner of his mouth twisting. “Piece of cake, right?”
Since he didn’t believe it, either, I wasn’t going to make the effort. “Why doesn’t every team have its own Charlie-busting device? It’d make things a helluva lot easier.”
“It cost three and a half million to build the one we have, and we’re not exactly high on any politician’s funding list.”
Good reason.
Back at headquarters… I’d always wanted to say that as a kid. That’s the way it had always gone in the superhero cartoons or the buddy cop shows. Back at headquarters was where you figured out what you’d learned, regrouped, then went out to kick ass.
At that moment, I couldn’t have kicked anyone’s ass unless they were under four and in the middle of naptime. I eased onto the narrow bed, bit back a groan, and lay back to stare at the ceiling. Meleah had said that I’d have residual muscle soreness from the seizure. She knew her stuff, unfortunately, Meleah did. Meleah, not Dr. Guerrera… and that’s why I ignored Hector’s offer.
“You can stay in the infirmary, Jackson,” he repeated. “There’s plenty of empty beds, not to mention painkillers and muscle relaxants at your fingertips.”
When you move like an eighty-year-old man, apparently people will notice. And while the infirmary was a slightly nicer cage, it was still a cage. I could deal with that, at least for a while, but I didn’t want to deal with seeing Meleah with too-familiar eyes and wondering where Charlie began and I ended.
“I’ll be okay.” I covered my eyes against the buzzing light with a forearm. “Turn that out before you lock me in, would you? It’s like a laser beam from hell.”
“I’m not locking you in.”
I moved my arm enough to give him a disbelieving glance. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No. Fuck regulations.” Hector showing he was the big dog and Thackery could kiss his ass. “I think your clearance level has gone about as high as it could go now.” His pale eyes were tainted with exhaustion, like dirty ice. “I’m through being an asshole because circumstances dictate it. Charlie wouldn’t be happy with me, and I’m not too happy with myself.” He moved to the door and opened it. “You’ll stay because we can help your sister and because you want to help Charlie, whether you admit that or not.” He shook his head. “Even to yourself. I’ll send Eden with some pills. See you at five.”
Five A.M.? I groaned mentally as he shut the door. It was easier to focus on that than on the grab bag of goodies he’d thrown in my lap. My cage door was open. Of course, Glory was the real cage; they had never needed a locked door to keep me here. But… I looked at it-gray, metal, ugly, and unlocked-and suddenly, I could breathe. The claustrophobia was still there, but knowing that I could open the door anytime lifted it enough to let me breathe without feeling as if I were strangling.
As for the other things, Hector giving me his trust and being so sure that I would’ve stayed regardless if only to help Charlie-as if he thought he knew me now. Knew who I was on the inside. He ignored my snark and was acting more like his brother. Too damn perceptive. I wasn’t comfortable with that. I’d let Abby in. I didn’t think I had room for any others.
Once I was loaded up with Tylenol, muscle relaxants, and more of Eden’s sympathetic pats and anger at my condition, the night passed in a blink, and I was faced with the ugly reality of too-damn-early. There was the smell of eggs and toast under my nose, and I pried up eyelids with a mind of their own and fifty pounds of concrete on their side. At least, it felt that way. I did get them open, though, to see the blurry vision of gray scrambled eggs and limp soggy toast.
“This is a joke,” I mumbled thickly. “A bad joke. Go away.”
“It’s not much to look at, Mr. Eye, I know, but I did bring a cinnamon roll and coffee from the outside world. I hope that will make up for our cafeteria’s failings.”
My eyes widened to fully alert. I’d assumed it was Hector. I must’ve been stupid with sleep; Hector had never smelled like that. She smelled like oranges and cinnamon. When Charlie’s memory didn’t pop up to comment on the change from lemon, I decided either the scent was new or Charlie was beginning to fade. It didn’t matter which, because either one was a good way to start the day. I’d liked Charlie, but it was time for him to go. I couldn’t be his
