Page 46 of Submit

I take a last look around the house and realize I’m glad to be leaving. The beauty of this house wore off quickly and it began to feel like a prison.

My eyes scan the area around the house as I walk out the front door on high alert. I know now that Will has some kind of capability to monitor me and I guess I wasn’t overreacting when I thought I was being followed. The memory chills the blood in my veins as I pick up speed toward the vacant lot.

I smell the exhaust on the wind before I turn into the dirt space and see the back of Casper’s Mercedes. Suddenly, I’m nervous for a whole different reason.

I have to admit that it’s my fault his cover is blown.

What if he refuses to help me now? What if he disappears, leaving me on my own?

Casper is out of the car, walking around to my side before I can even open the door. “Get in quickly. I’m a sitting duck here.”

He throws my suitcase in the backseat and I hug my purse to me as I climb in the front. The first thing I notice are all the screens. Surely this isn’t how these cars come naturally…you’d be so distracted! There are two screens with maps, one scanning faces, and a fourth that looks like it actually belongs in this car, with radio settings and air controls.

“What is all this?”

“Information.”

“On who?”

“Right now? The screen on the left is tracking Will. The screen on the right is tracking two very bad men on his payroll.”

“Will has a payroll?” I ask in disbelief. What freaky, fucked up universe am Iin?All this time I thought he just went to work and got paid like everyone else.

When Casper doesn’t answer, I continue, wanting to get my confession over with. “Cas, I have to tell you something and you’re not going to like it…just please know that I didn’t know what I was doing or how serious all of this was at the time.” He gives a small nod of acknowledgement as he concentrates on dodging potholes. When he turns right at the intersection, I realize we’re heading south and the governor’s house is north. A thought occurs to me then. “Are we being followed?”

“Not by anyone I have GPS locators on.”

That’s not as comforting as I had hoped. In fact, that’s not actually comforting at all.

“What do you need to tell me, Libby?” His voice is stern but not cold. Not like the methodical, psychologically detached way Will’s was this morning.

I grip the door handle, suddenly feeling lightheaded. “When I spent the night with Johanna, I didn’t…I still don’t, really…fully understand everything that is happening and I wanted answers…so I used my laptop to search for information on V&V Industries.” I pause, semi-hoping he’ll guess where this is going so the words don’t have to come out of my mouth.

No dice.

I plow ahead. “I just wanted information after so many secrets and all I had was your last name, and Johanna didn’t know anything either, so…”

“You tried researching my family online.” Not a question.

I nod.

“And?” I can’t tell if he wants to know what I found or what the repercussions of that search were, so I tell him both.

“And there was nothing at all outside of the headlines that made national news. But the problem is that Will searched my laptop or had someone do it or has one of those programs that tracks your activity and discovered my search for your family. He knows who you are and he threatened to tell your parents that you’re here.” I sit in silence after that. Oh, I want to say I’m sorry a thousand times. I want to grovel at his feet. I want to beg his forgiveness for my stupidity until my throat is raw.

But that won’t help. So instead, I sit in silence and wait for his wrath to smother me like a blanket but it never comes.

The silence is worse.

“Casper, say something.” My voice is shaking as the gravity of this situation crashes all around me again. My skin is clammy and I can’t seem to warm up despite the heat outside.

“This isn’t your fault.” I think it’s meant to be reassuring but he says it through gritted teeth with his jaw clenched and his knuckles white on the wheel. We both know thisismy fault.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to put you at risk. I had no idea my ---”

“I said it isn’t your fault and I mean it. You’ve been lied to for years. Wanting answers is normal.” He doesn’t sound angry exactly, but I can’t quite place the emotion.

He sees me reach for the temperature control on the screen to turn the heat up on my side of the SUV and recognizes the adrenaline crash for what it is. Grabbing my left hand, he laces our fingers together and rubs comforting circles on my thigh where our hands are resting. I feel my heart rate begin to slow and I’m able to draw a couple of deep breaths.

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