Page 56 of Female Fantasy
Is this what this is?
God, I haven’t had a legitimate crush on someone since…
“Remember when you had a crush on me in middle school?” Nico asks suddenly. As if our minds are in exactly the same place.
“Did not,” I retort halfheartedly.
“Did too,” he teases. “I remember catching you writing our names inside a heart in your notebook with one of those pink gel pens you loved so much. I thought it was so cute.”
“Must have been another Nico,” I insist.
Outside the motel, a car honks. Our taxi. I exhale in relief, then thank the front desk lady and book it outside to avoid continuing this conversation.
“The closest train station, please,” I tell the driver.
“That’ll be New Haven,” he says.
I let out a startled laugh.
“Oh my God. Those shitheads actually did it. They kept their word. They got us closer to the city.” I shake my head. “I wonder what they planned to do with us.”
“About that…” Nico rubs his chin. His nervous tic, I’ve realized. “I have a theory.”
I quirk a brow, waiting for him to continue.
“So, you know how Clarisse told Thomas she was ready tomake the trade?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you think maybe that trade was…us?”
I think about it for a second. “You mean, like, for ransom?”
In the rearview mirror, I see the taxi driver frown. Nico lowers his voice.
“I’m saying, what if Harry ‘the Hug’ Lester was coming himself to finish the job? What if he hires idiots like Clarisse and Thomas to round up people who owe him money, and when they can’t pay up, he…takes them out? What if they’ve done this before?”
I bite my lip, remember their hushed words. References to ahe. That could make sense, of course. But our kidnappers seemed like petty con artists. Thieves at most. Not cold-blooded killers. But maybe they’ve gotten involved with some bad guys who do much worse?
“What makes you think that?” I ask.
Nico pulls out a notebook, a cheeky smile on his face. “They left their ledger in the car, and I kind of took it.”
My jaw drops. “You stole their ledger?!”
I open the book and begin flipping the pages. Scribblednumbers and data tables, notes about accounts and IOUs. Gambling numbers. Some kind of code I can’t understand.
“Not sure what most of it means or if it proves anything,” Nico says. “But I figured if we could make sense of it, it would give us leverage. You know, if they try to come after us again.”
I drop my head into my hands. “Nico. Now there’s no way they’renotgoing to come after us.”
His brow furrows. “You mean…”
“They’redefinitelygoing to want this back.” My voice cracks. “Which means they’ll definitely come looking for us. Sooner rather than later.”
Nico’s face pales. “Should we ditch it? Burn it or something?”
I shake my head. “It’s too late for that. Let’s just keep moving. The more distance we put between ourselves and them, the better.”
