Page 58 of Uncontrolled

They’re switching subjects again. Why? I need to throw them off and I’ve got more than enough anger to spare for a show.

“You’re riding my ass about some random kid and you never even questioned what I found about Corbin. What about finding Jamison? What happened to that?” I pause long enough for the accusation to sink in. “I thought this was a rescue! If you’re after blood, why not ask me to lure Allie into your rat trap of a house? Bleed her dry. When you’re done with her though, I’d like to ask her what happened to my friend if it’s not too inconvenient.”

I’m never going to pull this off. Jamison saw right through my act. Allie didn’t buy it. It never worked. But Keeley won’t look at me. Guilt blooms across Quinn’s face.

Zen shifts into my line of vision. “Stop acting like you’re the only one who cares!” she demands. “Half the neighbors at his shitty apartment complex are convinced I’m a stalker.”

“You mean Jamison’s apartment?” I ask. She’s been to his place. Inside. It’s obvious that she would have been, it just never occurred to me. I picture her sitting on the cheap futon I only saw through his basement level window.

“I’ve been trying to catch him for weeks. Pretty constantly though the last couple days.” She stares at me, her expression haunted. “I keep thinking of what you said when Quinn brought you to the house.” Her mouth quirks into a frown as she finally lets her hand drop from my chest. “About how maybe Jamison got busy. You know him best, Ploy, so tell me. Would he do that?” Zen scans the crowd, arms crossed over her chest as if she’s cold. “Forget about me?”

Inside me, something goes tight. I remember the waiting. The light shot through those nights he showed up at the Boxcar Camp for the quick half hour hangouts he could spare when I had no one and nothing. The wicked truth of it is Jamison never forgot about me. Not for long, anyway.

When I find my voice, it’s barely a breath. “He wouldn’t forget about you.”

“Then tell me he’s alive.” She waits. Too long.

“Zen?” Nico says, the name a question. But Zen’s eyes never leave mine, and so I give her what she wants.

“Jamison wouldn’t go down without a fight,” I promise her. An image sears across my brain, the slur of his rage as the poison took hold, his last confused moments. I’d just wanted him to stop hurting Allie. I’d just wanted to understand why he shot me.

“Promise me you’re going to get Allie to tell you where he is,” Zen says. Her fingers grip my wrist.

I can’t get the words past the lump in my throat. Allie’s the only reason I thought twice about Jamison’s plan to get resurrectionist blood for ourselves. Without her, I have a pretty good idea where I’d be right now, and it involves Jamison and torture and too much blood on my hands to ever wash off.

I wouldn’t have gone through with it, I tell myself, but I don’t know if it’s true. Would I have stopped him if it wasn’t for her?

“Do you know something?” Zen asks. I hesitate as if I’m debating whether to trust her. There’s a pause as her gaze bounces to Nico, who gives her a slight nod. “We’ll make it worth your while.”

“Fine.” I snag my wrist free. “Allie said there were two people at her aunt’s house when she got there, but they took off. You all said Corbin and Jamison were spotted together the same day the cops found the body of Allie’s aunt. It had to be them.”

“Did Allie start that fire?” Nico asks.

“No. Said she saw the body, took off before the flames trapped her inside. She’s the one who called it in though. Anonymous.”

“Corbin mention being there to you?” East asks his sister. She shakes her head and he comes back to me. “Go on.”

“When I talked to Jamison later that day, he asked where I was, and I told him the Boxcar Camp. He said Allie might need some…” I wince, hating the truth I’m seeding in with the lies. “He wanted me to see if she’d let me crash at her place. Said I should be ready to offer her some comfort if she needed it.”

“What, sleep with her?” Zen asks. I concentrate on the concrete and let them come to their own conclusions.

“Did you talk to Jamison again after that?” East asks.

“Yeah. Once. Allie wasn’t home that night. I called him the next morning and told him I crashed at the camp.” I swallow hard. “Matches your timeline. Doesn’t add much to it, though,” I admit. “You said two days. Give me a few more and I’ll press her.”

They could say no, cut me off. Or…

“It helps,” Nico says. Beside her on the bench is the slushie her brother brought her. The cup’s gone dark red, the ice melting down into the juice. She pokes it with the wooden spoon but doesn’t eat any. “We followed Talia’s ride the other night after she picked up Allie. We think they took CJ with them to train him.”

“Okay,” I say, not sure where they’re headed with this.

“You gave us the idea,” Keeley says, beaming. “You said if we ever sell another resurrectionist, you want in. Nico got to wondering. She made a call. Turns out, our buyer’s in the market again!”

My heart stalls. I did say that. An uneasy chuckle breaks from me. “Well, damn,” I get out.

Zen moves to drop a palm on the crown of Keeley’s head. “We figure Allie and Talia will be with him when he’s resurrecting, so it’s best if we get him alone. And so tomorrow, our Keeley here has a movie date with CJ.”

Keeley grins up at Zen.

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