Renegades, page 16
“Okay, Petra. Tell me whatever you want.”
“I was orphaned right after I was born. I never learned why, because I was adopted by the Cudlaws when I was five years old.”
For the whole fifteen-minute walk, and for another ten once they reached the Trade District, Petra told Becca the story of her childhood. She spared no detail, and Becca listened and watched intently. She judged Petra as completely sincere and truthful, and she found that a pit had opened in her stomach for the girl. It was a truly horrifying story.
“So, now that you know what happened to me, and you know Reggie has nothing to do with this,” she gestured to her body. “I can tell you that I’m really nervous about tonight. That people are going to think that I’m sick, or strange, or that Reggie’s abusing me…” Petra started to cry.
Becca folded her in her arms and kissed her temple. “No, no. We’re going to get you something amazing. People might stare, but it’s going to be because you look so beautiful.”
Petra smiled and pulled away from her. “Thank you. Reggie was right; you really are sweet,” she wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay, come on. Let’s go spend some of his money.” She smiled and led Becca into the women’s apparel store they had been standing in front of.
After they had each gathered a few outfits, they went to the changing room and modeled their choices for each other. Everything Petra had chosen was hemmed low, with either long sleeves or half sleeves, making no attempt at showing cleavage, of which she had none. When Petra presented her first choice, a brown gown that reached up to the hollow of her throat and then went even further with an accompanying brown lace choker, Becca wrinkled her nose and pointed her thumb at the floor.
“What does that mean?” Petra mimicked the hand gesture.
“Oh, sorry. That’s an Earth thing. But no. It means ‘no.’”
“I didn’t really like the color anyway,” Petra said.
“What do you think about this?” Becca asked, twirling in front of Petra. Becca’s choices were very different. She wore a long black gown with a deep slit up the right leg and a V-neck that displayed her full cleavage.
“Honestly, Becca? It’s gorgeous. But you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, or even seen. You could make rags look gorgeous.”
“Don’t judge me, judge the dress. Yes, or no?”
“You may not wear it tonight, but definitely buy it. Definitely.”
Becca smiled and disappeared back into the changing room, as did Petra. They were right next to each other, so Becca pried a little. “So, Petra, you told me about your childhood, but you never told me how you met Reggie.”
“Oh,” Petra talked in a louder volume than normal to be heard through the divider. “You know, Keystone. I never would have met him otherwise.”
Becca froze. What the hell is Keystone? During all of her dealings with Ander and Reggie, she had sensed there was something in the background she didn’t know about. Until that moment, she had attributed it to Ander alone and his desire to obtain her. The word Keystone, though, a meaningless word without context, was suspicious. She was going to have to pry to see if there was anything more to it.
“Yeah, I figured it was keystone, but I meant how? I imagine a lot of girls would love to be with the rich doctor, but you made it happen.”
“Oh! Yeah! Well, a lot of girls have tried. But I was the only one from Keystone, and when I approached him, it had nothing to do with romance. I’m helping them get the Lances.”
A shockwave blasted through Becca’s conscience. Lances? For what? What on Earth is going on? “Oh! That’s great! How did you do it, then? How did you end up with him if it wasn’t your intention?”
“Well, I wish I could say my plan to get the Lances was perfect, but it’s not, so I knew I would need a lot of help. One of the other Renegades at the meeting last week wrote down his address for me, so I went to his apartment and explained everything to him. He must have felt sorry for me, because he put me up at his place. After that, I think it was proximity and loneliness, if I’m being honest with you.”
Renegades? Meeting? What the hell is this? Becca realized she was standing in the dressing room in her underwear, not dressing. She raced to put on the next gown and stepped out for Petra to judge it.
Petra wore a simple pink dress that revealed her legs below the knee, with a soft neck and half sleeves. It was loose enough that her boney hips did not poke through, and it softened her other features as well.
“I love that on you, Petra. Seriously. You may not wear it tonight, but you should buy it.” Becca winked at her.
Petra smiled so brightly that Becca first saw the true beauty that was in her. This is a whole new world for her, she thought. Petra darted back into the changing room, and Becca did the same.
After another thirty minutes, they hauled their purchases up to the register. Petra went first and laid her clothing on the counter.
“Ander is going to pay for mine, right?” Becca asked.
Petra looked guilty. “Um, no. Reggie told me to pay for everything. Reggie has a lot of money, Becca. You really don’t need to worry about it.”
“I will worry about it. I have no problem with Reggie buying me something that he wants me to have, but this,” Becca held up her clothing choices. “This will be paid for by Ander. I don’t care if it bankrupts him.”
“Oh,” Petra said. “I might have been wrong about you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was afraid that you didn’t know Ander, that you didn’t know…”
“That he’s a monster? Yes, I know.”
The look on Petra’s face was of pure shock. She had never thought to use that word, but it made perfect sense when measuring Ander. “It makes me happy that you know. I really like you, Becca. I was afraid it wouldn’t last, that you’d disappear out of our lives.”
“We’re both in a new world. I think it would be helpful for both of us to have a friend in this new world. Do you think so? A best friend, even.”
Petra’s face bloomed into another enormous smile. “Yes! I love it. You are so wonderful, and smart! We’ll stick together if there’s any trouble!”
“You can count on it, sweetie, and make sure you get a separate receipt for my stuff. I’m going to give it to Ander myself.”
5
Ander sat alone at his kitchen table, deep in thought. The bottle of Finnic whiskey sat before him, alongside a rocks glass, but the glass was dry, touched by neither ice nor drink. It was too early, and he had to have his wits about him for the banquet. He promised himself one drink before they left.
In his mind, Becca was late, but she had never promised an arrival time. Ander was worried, and he hated it. For the first time in his life, he’d had the mantle of his manipulation pierced. His ability to shape his present and his future by tugging on the strings of his puppets was his greatest power, and now the seductress had bullied her way behind the curtain. He had no choice but to embrace it. To solve the Becca problem would be a paradox, because if he killed her, then he would spiral, and he knew it.
Maybe I can do both. He sat and thought with a sober mind. Drop the act, show her the real you. It doesn’t mean you have to show her everything, but you must show her a lot more than you want to. But what did it mean to “respect” her? It means showing her the dirt. It means not walking around her in a constant shroud of good humor. It means…
“She’s here,” Colvin said through the door speaker.
Ander launched out of his chair and raced to the door. What’s this? You’re scared of her? He opened the door wide to find Becca approaching with several bags thrown over her right shoulder and a handful of small papers in her left hand. She walked past him and into the kitchen, where she dropped the bags on the floor and the papers on the table. She then carefully arranged the papers so they could be easily read.
“Have a seat, Ander,” Becca said, and remained standing herself.
Ander swung the door shut and walked into the kitchen to the table, where he sat back down in the same seat he had occupied moments before. He stared at the receipts, at the amounts.
“Are you kidding me?” He looked up at Becca. His face had bloomed into an angry blush, and a vein pulsed at his temple. He would have no use for money if they got off Orris, if everything went perfectly. It was a big “if,” and he had no intention of squandering his savings beforehand.
“Good, it’s you. No, I am not kidding you, and if you think Reggie is going to pay for all of it, then I will be Reggie’s date this evening.”
Ander did not answer. He ground his teeth, balled his hands into fists, and breathed hard. Of the seven receipts, the one from the jewelry store totaled twice the other six combined. Becca and Petra had spent a small fortune.
“I’ll give you two options, Ander. The first is that I make this all go away. I will return everything, including the jewelry. You won’t owe Reggie anything. You will go to the banquet alone, and I will return to my family, and you will never see me again. The second option is this: you pay Reggie for everything. All of it. You can believe that I have ways of verifying that you do this. If you do, I will be on your arm for the banquet, and I will change into my gown right here, right now, while you watch. You can’t touch, but you can watch all of it, and I might even make a little show out of it for you. Which do you choose?”
Ander was a wreck. The angry man had dissolved into a tormented creature. The money was more than he made in a month, but the reward was priceless by his measure.
“The second one, please. The second one,” Ander said, his face slack with defeat.
“Good, because I didn’t want to return any of it. I love it all. Honestly, Ander, I didn’t want to leave you, either.” Becca undid the top three buttons of her shirt. “I should be afraid of you, shouldn’t I?”
Ander did not speak; he just stared at her fingers as she moved to the fourth button. Her fingers froze, and he looked up. “Um, no, no, I don’t think so. I don’t want you to…”
“I didn’t ask what you wanted. I asked whether I should be afraid of you. I think I should. I think it would be healthy to know who I am dealing with. Don’t you think it’s always healthy to know who you’re dealing with?”
Ander froze. He was sure it was a trick question. She was leading him to realize that he should be afraid of her, and he was, at least a little. “Yes, I suppose it is.”
“Good,” she said, and resumed undoing her buttons. She allowed her shirt to slide off her shoulders, folded it, and placed it neatly next to the bottle of whiskey.
“I have another question. Do you understand that I can tell when you’re lying?”
She could, and he knew it. She had stopped him at every turn any time he had even embellished the truth. He watched as she teased the single cord that held her pants up around her waist and nodded. Becca yanked the cord and her pants spilled to the floor, revealing her naked legs. A shiver ran up Ander’s spine as she bent over and picked them up, folding them and stacking them on her folded shirt. She twirled once for Ander, in only her bra and underwear, then reached into one of her shopping bags, from which she removed a strapless bra. She held it up over her bosom.
“What do you think? Do you like it?”
“Yes.”
Becca put the strapless bra down and reached behind her to unhook the one she was wearing. She let the two backstraps fall behind her but pinned the material under her arms so it would stay in position for the moment.
“I have another question, Ander. Since I arrived here yesterday morning, how many times did you consider the possibility that you would have to kill me?”
A fresh, revolting shock poured through him. How could she know? How could she ask that question when she knows the answer is not ‘zero?’ She slid one strap off her shoulder while staring into his eyes, waiting for the answer.
Ander cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “Twice.”
She let the bra fall into her hands, revealing her bare breasts. “But you can’t, can you?” She dropped the bra on the table and stepped toward him.
“No.”
“Why not?” she stepped closer. “Remember, no touching.”
She leaned down toward him and ran all ten fingertips through the hair above his ears and to the back of his head. Her nails scraped his scalp and sent electricity through every nerve in his body, straight to his toes. She leaned in further and pulled his face to within an inch of her chest. Her scent was intoxicating, the heat radiating from her breasts bathed his face, and he could feel her cool breath on the top of his head.
“Why not?” she asked.
His breathing had sped up, his heart was racing, and his skin crawled. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead as she continued to massage the scalp on the back of his head with the tips of her fingernails. He was in sensory overload and faced with a question that had no truthful answer; but he could not lie. He was only partly surprised to feel tears welling up in his eyes.
“I can’t, I don’t know, I couldn’t. I would go crazy; I’d kill myself. I’d, I’d…” he stopped and just breathed, shaking.
She lifted his face to hers, only an inch apart. “Good,” she said, and kissed him on the lips. “Come on, we need to get ready.”
6
“Reggie!” Petra yelled from the bathroom.
Reggie stepped into the doorway. “Yes?”
“I can’t do this. I’ve never done it before! I look like a clown!”
Reggie laughed and stepped in further to hug her. “Ander and Becca will be here any minute. I’m sure Becca will help you with your makeup.” As though he had summoned them, there was a knock at the door as he finished his sentence.
Reggie disappeared, replaced by Becca only a moment later.
“Oh! You look so cute in that dress!” Becca said.
Petra frowned and pointed at her face. “Help, please!”
Becca was grinning. “You’ve never done this before, have you?”
Petra shook her head. “No. My aunt did it once for me, before we went to the meeting last week, but it was really simple. I think she just used one or two things. Will you help me?”
“Of course, sweetie. But let’s clean this off and start fresh, okay?”
Petra nodded.
“Who was this aunt? I thought your whole family was awful?” Becca asked.
“Lindy. She’s Misty’s sister. She hates them as much as I do, and that’s why I went to her. She was the only one I could go to when I escaped. But it’s also why I couldn’t stay with her for long. They would have looked for me there first.” She winced as Becca started wiping her face with the treated towels. “How did Ander take it? Was he mad?”
Becca laughed. “Oh, yeah. He was mad, alright. He was almost foaming at the mouth.”
“Weren’t you scared? He’s a mean guy. I mean, I’ve seen him get angry before, Becca. A man died. Ander killed him.”
Becca continued wiping the makeup misadventure from Petra’s face without missing a beat, but she believed her heart skipped one. “I know,” Becca lied. “That was a special circumstance, though. He doesn’t scare me because I know how he thinks, and I know how to handle him.”
“I thought you had only known him for a few days? How can you be so sure you’ll be safe? I would be devastated if you got hurt, Becca.”
“I know, sweetie, but don’t worry about me. It isn’t that I know Ander so well, as much as I know his type. I know how they think, and I know how they view the world. What we’re basically talking about are bullies. It isn’t any more complicated than that, and I’ve dealt with bullies all my life. They’re tough on the outside until you can figure out how to crack them open. Once you do, it’s pretty easy to manage any situation you get into with them.” Becca gathered and threw away all the cleaning wipes and applied foundation to Petra’s face.
“Well, I’m going to be scared for you. He scares me, and I haven’t even met him yet.”
“You will in a few minutes, but don’t worry, he’ll put on one of his many faces and treat you as sweet as pie.”
7
Ander led Becca through the rows and rows of tables toward the front of the banquet hall, toward the podium where his table would inevitably be. The display screens bolted to the walls exhibited a picture of the Envoy when he was young, likely a staff photo from right before he left Osa. As they approached the front, Ander saw the head table, with a single woman sitting at it and a man calling to her from behind. His own table had to be one of the two situated behind the head table, and when he scanned the two half-populated tables, his eyes landed on Ghent Ezla. Ghent was the President of Orris Maintenance, the second-highest ranking officer in Orris Command, first in line to assume Len’s role. Ander did not like Ghent, and Ghent did not like Ander. Ghent was a massive man, probably outweighing Ander by a hundred pounds. He was in his fifties but had the stress lines of a much older man. The crow’s feet by his eyes were so deeply set that Ander thought it would make cleaning his face difficult. His black hair was thinning so badly that the few strands he continued to comb over were becoming an embarrassment.
