“The boy’s dreaming again. You know he’s been itching to go up there again,” Jorge said.
Maurio shook his head. “Ain’t nothing up there for you, kid. Trust me, I know.”
He did know. Maurio had joined the military fresh out of high school, but was wounded only months later. But like his brother, who couldn’t pass a drug test because he needed the painkillers to walk upright, Maurio couldn’t find a job because of the PTSD and subsequent panic attacks that plagued him, and the government had provided zero help to take care of his health or welfare needs when he’d returned. He’d tried wrestling like his brother, but that hadn’t worked out because each time he got into the ring with an opponent he thought of the hand-to-hand combat he’d been taught in the military, and the few times he’d actually made it through a match, his opponent had nearly not made it out alive.
“Nobody feels like someone may have been standing in this very spot not long ago?” Cree asked.
Jorge shook his head and Maurio just shrugged.
“Did you check the control room? Run the tape back and watch it from the time I came in last night?” Ravyn asked because she not only knew that Steele had been here, she could also smell his scent—the earthy aroma she’d picked up earlier yesterday when he’d grabbed her in the alley, mixed with the smell of her soap.
Cree shook his head. “Didn’t see anything. Just you.”
That was a good thing but she couldn’t pinpoint why. Maybe because she didn’t want to have to explain how this guy had most likely followed her home at some point, thus giving away their secret hideout. Not to mention that she’d ended up having sex with that guy and was going to meet up with him later.
“Then there was nothing,” she said just so she could hear the words out loud. “Let’s not speak of this to anyone else, we don’t want to cause a panic for nothing.”
“No problem,” Jorge said. “Lorna told me to tell you to take it easy. Just because you’re feeling better doesn’t mean you should resume your normal activities so fast. The flu takes a toll on people.”
Ravyn nodded. “I bet those were her exact words,” she joked with Jorge, who made a point of doing whatever his wife asked him to do because he was a very smart man.
He rubbed the back of his head, blunt-tipped nails causing a crunchy sound as they moved over his low-cut bristly gray hair. “You got that right. And I’ve got witnesses that I delivered the message so I’m safe.”
Ravyn smiled. They were all safe down here. That’s what she’d always wanted. Somewhere they could live and not worry about being harassed in any way by the corrupt government that existed aboveground. She was helping the people down here and she was helping herself, something her father never thought she’d do.
“I’ll go see Lorna in a little while and let her know I’ve received the message and that I’ll take heed to her words. Then I want to get into the supply room and get things organized. We’ll have to stock up for the winter months and I don’t want to have to go in there and rearrange things the moment we bring more boxes inside,” she said.
Crossing his arms over his chest, Maurio continued, “That supermarket down on Sprayson Street’s going out of business. Can’t afford the property taxes, I heard. So, we should definitely get down there in the next few days to get some stuff. I’m sure they’ll be tossing things out.”
Maurio and a few others kept their ear to the streets above. She didn’t know how and never asked as long as it didn’t endanger anyone down here. But his information about upcoming things was always good.
“Yeah, let’s plan to do that next week, maybe Sunday night when they close early,” she said. “I’ve got an appointment this afternoon so I’m gonna go see Lorna and grab some breakfast. I’ll meet you guys in the storage room in an hour.”
Ravyn walked away after getting nods from Jorge and Maurio. She didn’t look at Cree because she knew he’d still be frowning. When she’d first met Cree he’d talked a lot about feelings he had about things or visions he used to have when he was a young boy and how his father had threatened to beat that foolish talk out of his head. Smart kid that he was, Cree stopped talking about anything that wasn’t considered normal, until he met her, probably because she listened. She never believed, but she let him speak and never acted as if he were crazy for thinking he’d seen, heard or even felt things that others didn’t. Even though, she, like his father, didn’t believe in any of that kind of stuff.
At five o’clock on Friday afternoon, Ravyn walked through the door of the Meren Hotel. She took the elevator up to the twenty-fifth floor and walked down the hallway until she arrived at room 708. She paused a moment before knocking, asking herself for the billionth time since this morning if this was the right move to make.
It was the only move.
That answer came each time she asked.
After another deep, cleansing breath, she lifted her hand and knocked. The door opened quickly, as if he’d been standing right behind it waiting for her.
“Come in,” he said, and once again she found herself following his directions.
That wasn’t something she planned to keep doing. Controlling men weren’t her thing.
“I’ve written down my account number. On your statement you may notice the account’s not in my name. Don’t be alarmed, it’s fine. I’ll get the money.”
She was following him through the plush suite. The beige carpet was so thick and soft beneath her steps, walls were covered partially in a pale gold wallpaper, while the other half were painted the lightest of cream hues.
