Page 48 of Twisted Empire

13

Tatum

I satat a dark wooden desk, a pile of books stacked haphazardly on one side. In front of me was a large white notebook. After stretching my hands, I picked up a pen and began to write.

I’d taken the ground-floor tram to the Ark library every morning for the last week. The spacious room was laid out a little like my favorite library at Roden: high ceilings and crown moldings, row after row of dark wooden shelves, polished floorboards, comfortable leather armchairs and couches. Leaded glass windows lined the walls with screens playing outdoor scenes of an Ivy League college campus behind them. The shelves were neatly lined with thousands of books, spines facing outward and color coded with dots. There were even wooden ladders which ran along a rail halfway up them for ease of access.

It was easy to get lost in this place and pretend I was a regular college student again. A few times, I thought I heard Greer’s voice somewhere behind me, asking me to help her find a book for a student paper article she was writing. Another time I caught a whiff of Willa’s expensive floral perfume from somewhere behind me, but it vanished within seconds. I knew I was only imagining things and I should feel sad that it wasn’t real, but in truth, those fleeting seconds made me happy. They made me feel like Elias and I had already made our escape and taken down Crown and Dagger, and everything was back to normal.

Of course, nothing was normal yet, but it was nice to dream every so often.

On the far side of the library were a few large tables and several smaller desks for quiet study, and a few feet to the right of that was a row of computers with internet access. I was at one of the smaller desks right now, jotting down my thoughts in a notebook I’d found near the entrance a few days ago.

For the first couple of days, I’d simply relaxed and read some fiction books, grateful for the opportunity to do something so normal for the first time in what felt like forever. But then the guilt began to creep in, a dark vine twisting its way through my mind.

I might be free and safe here in the shelter, but there were still a hundred other women imprisoned at the Lodge, including my friend Pri. Every time I tried to immerse myself in a fictional world, thoughts of her and the others would slip in through the cracks, and I’d have to put the book down and hold my head in my hands, trying to stop the flow of tears.

It wasn’t fair. They were all miserable, and here I was, living it up in luxury with a man to protect me, free from the threat of rape and violence.

I knew it wasn’t my fault, but I felt terrible anyway. I couldn’t relax until they were all out safely, and so I abandoned the books and started to write instead. It was soothing and cathartic, getting all my thoughts and feelings out onto paper rather than keeping it all bottled up inside me.

I’d done a bit of writing back at the Lodge in the little nook in my room, but that was mostly out of boredom. I never felt as if I could write anything honest there, seeing as anyone could come in and read the notebooks at any time, and so all I’d really written were mundane descriptions of the place and its surrounds. Nothing deep or serious. Nothing thoughtful.

Now things were different, and I could write whatever I wanted. Yesterday, I’d written about Pri and the way we used to have hushed, secretive conversations in the gym, stealing moments when we could, treasuring each and every second. Today I was writing about Henry; all the questions I would ask him if he was still alive. All the guilt and sadness I still felt at the thought of his body sitting there on that beach.

I’d done a Google search for him on one of the computers the other day, and I found his obituary. It was just like Elias said it would be. His death had been ruled a suicide, and the obituary was filled with fawning bullshit from Garrett and Mellie Davenport about how they loved and missed him so much, and how they wished they could’ve gotten him the psychological help he needed before he took his own life.

Fucking assholes.

I finished writing down my thoughts on the matter, and then I turned the page and started a new chapter on Mellie. That vitriolic little bitch. I remembered the last words she’d spoken to me about her brother perfectly, because every word she’d ever said to me at the School or Lodge was burned into my mind like a brand. What’s he gonna do, call the New York Times and unload what sounds like a tinfoil-hat conspiracy theory that he has zero proof of? It’s literally just his word against everyone else’s. He’d be toast, and nothing would ever come of it.

Such a loving, caring sister.

I sighed and put the pen down, stretching my fingers out in front of me again as a cramp seized one of my hands. As I sat there waiting for the pain to subside, I wondered what Elias was up to right now. Probably working out at the gym, or sitting on a chair in the apartment study and staring into space as he tried to think up a plan to destroy his father.

I could tell he was stressed. He hadn’t been short or brusque with me over the last week, but I could still see it in his eyes. The strain, the worry. He felt like it was his responsibility to take down Crown and Dagger and his father all on his own, but I knew he was struggling under the pressure. It simply wasn’t possible to carry out such a monumental task alone. At least that was how I saw it. Elias clearly disagreed. He seemed to think it was his fault and therefore his job to fix it, weeding out the corruption and burning it to ash all on his own.

I wanted to try and help anyway, but for the time being, I was just as stumped as him. How the hell were two people supposed to take down an uber-rich, uber-powerful organization made up of hundreds of men with ties to law enforcement, politicians, and anyone else who might be able to help us in regular circumstances? Granted, it was only the third-level members we were really gunning for, but still, that was over a hundred men.

Last night, I was sure I’d dreamed of a way to take them down for good. But dreams had a way of fading fast, and now all I could remember was a computer and a vision of Mellie wearing a shiny silver jumpsuit as she laughed at her brother’s graveside. I had no idea what it meant. It was like my mind had constructed a hundred-piece jigsaw puzzle in my sleep, and now I was missing all but a few of the pieces.

“Need a snack?”

My eyes snapped up and to the right. Elias was next to me, holding a little plate of dried fruit and a tall glass with what appeared to be a green smoothie.

“Thanks,” I said, reaching for a shriveled slice of apricot. “I didn’t even hear you come in.”

He smiled gently and set the glass down on my desk with the plate. “You were off in your own world.” He indicated a nearby chair. “Mind if I sit, or are you busy?”

“I’m always free for you.”

He nodded toward the glass. “That smoothie has almost every vitamin and mineral you could possibly need. I found all this powdered stuff in one of the kitchens.”

“Oh, cool. Thanks.”

He scooted his chair closer. “There’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about,” he said. He eyed the smoothie again.

I puckered my brows with confusion. “Shoot.”

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