Ctrl Z (16 page)

“Then why didn’t he call me?” he’d gasped. Jude and his
father had fought that morning. Jude had walked out on him, heading over to
Elliot’s house before school even began.

“Oh honey, I’m certain he would have,” his mother had
answered, “but he didn’t want to worry you.”

“Sorry,” Jude had murmured, but the apology hadn’t been
for her.

“Are you okay, Jude? Do you want to talk about it?”

He had turned away without a word. His father had called
his ex-wife instead of his son, Jude’s mind whispered. The guilt of that was
too hard to bear, so he turned to anger instead…

Reaching the first of several exits, Jude peeked over at
Indigo again. Her face was pale, her body motionless except for the shallow
rise and fall of her chest. The urge to fix things rose again.

“Do you have any place else you want to film?” he asked.

The silence remained unbroken.

“Indigo?”

She took a sudden breath, her eyes refocusing like someone
awakening from a dream. She sat up higher in the seat.

“No thanks,” Indigo mumbled, staring forward. “They tore our
apartment down years ago, and the rest of the places I lived are…”

She didn’t finish her thought.

The ride continued, the chasm between them widening until it
was a gulf too far to breach. Reaching the apartment, Jude pulled the car to a
stop. It was nearly dinner time, the day gone.

“D’you want to get something to eat?” he offered.

She shook her head, pulling the bag from the floor, not
holding his eyes. It felt like everything had been unravelled between yesterday
and today. He’d come home with her, but it was a tenuous companionship. The
easiness vanished, the connection, once so clear, now muddied.

Indigo put her hand on the door handle, pushing it open. For
some reason Jude
knew
if she left like this, that things would be over.
That this, far more than the moment in the alley when he’d seen between her and
Cal, mattered to the rest of what they might have. For a brief second he
imagined his father, heading to a downtown marred by smoke, picking up his
phone and making a single phone call. Jude winced.

The call hadn’t been to him.

“Wait!” Jude yelped, as the door swung open.

She turned back in surprise, sitting with one foot in, one
out of the car.

“Where is your Mom now?” he asked, desperate.

“Dunno.”

“She’s gotta be around somewhere,” he said, words coming in
a panicked rush. “I could see if I could track her down.”

Indigo stared at him. Her eyes were tired, the navy dulled
almost to black in the fading light.

“Why?”

He reached out, touching her arm.

“Because then you’d
know
.”

“Sometimes there’re things you’re better off forgetting,”
she said grimly.

“Then how about the apartment, or school pictures?” He was
scrambling for ideas. “Do you want me to see what I can dig up online?”

She gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Sure, I guess.”

Jude touched her hand, surprised by her icy fingers.

“Thank you for letting me come today,” he said earnestly. He
pressed her hand between his two, warming it. “It was good to be there. I’m
happy I could help.”

Indigo’s lip quivered, the mask slipping.

“I don’t
get
you, Jude,” she whispered.

He grinned.

“I don’t get me either half the time. But seriously, I liked
helping you.”

Her expression shimmered, and for the first time, her
fingers tightened in his.

“Thanks.”

“Coffee at break tomorrow?”

A faint smile brushed her lips.

“Maybe.”

: : :
: : : : : : :

The first time it happened, Elliot assumed it was a prank.
He picked up the phone, and no one was there.  It wasn’t a big deal, just
something unexpected, and he put it out of his mind without a second thought.
He had other things going on this week.

To begin with, there were a number of potential clients who,
inexplicably, had decided to visit him at the investment firm rather than
calling. These people had all been concerned to discuss the various times they
could meet with Elliot, checking their day-planners, and going through the
options for their investments, but never making their next meetings. Strangely,
none of the leads had panned out.

It was different, Elliot decided, but not worrisome.

Other little things were just slightly off too: an
unexpected man in a suit who was suddenly a regular at Starbucks, a strange car
with dark-tinted windows parked across the street from his apartment, and the
discovery of the front door of the apartment building propped open, even though
it was almost winter. Each item added to Elliot’s growing sense of puzzlement.
None of them were bothersome enough for Elliot to change his daily routine,
just little things that made him edgy. Confused.

Today, a woman had passed him on the street, inexplicably bumping
into him, even though there was plenty of room on the sidewalk. When he turned
back around, she was no longer behind him, the empty street leaving his hair
crawling across his scalp. Now, lying in bed hours later, Elliot found he
couldn’t sleep. It was weird being in the apartment alone, his mind analyzing
each creak.

On the bedside table, the phone rang, and he picked it up.

“Hello?”

There was no one on the other end, just a faint clicking
sound. After a moment, Elliot hung up the phone, unease unfurling inside him.
He stared at the blank wall, the minutes ticking by.

He wished Jude was still here.

: : :
: : : : :

Indigo had seen Jude Alden every day this week. The change
to their tenuous relationship surprised her in light of the weekend’s revelations.
He hadn’t judged her, as she’d been expecting. Nor had he treated her
experiences as a runaway with the smug pity that so many others did. He just
carried on like it was entirely normal.

That irked her.

“Doesn’t make sense,” she grumbled through a mouthful of
curry. “He just acts like nothing’s changed.”

Shireese raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing
has.”

Indigo dropped her fork with a clatter. “Like hell!” she
growled.

“Why? You’re still you, Indigo. He’s still him.” She
smirked. “You might try telling him a little
more
about your life. Jude
knows
you lived on the street. Not much of a stretch to tell him the rest.”

Indigo scowled. “Nope,” she said, taking another bite. “He
wouldn’t get it.”

“Try him,” Shireese said. “He might just surprise you.”

“He wouldn’t.”

Shireese rolled her eyes.

“You keep telling yourself that, honey,” she drawled. “But
from everything I’ve heard about him, I’m bettin’ he will.” She lifted her
spoon, pointing to Indigo. “You’ll never know unless you try. C’mon. I dare
you.”

Indigo opened her mouth, then closed it without speaking.
The only way to prove Shireese wrong was to give Jude the rest of the story,
and Indigo had no plans to do that. This time she’d leave things alone.

The experience with Cal Woodrow had taught her that lesson
well.

: : :
: : : : : : :

Jude insisted the drop-off take place in public, hoping to
find protection in those around him. The Starbucks down the street seemed like
a good enough option.

Jude sat, knee jiggling, a typed report both in hard copy
and digital in an envelope on the table in front of him, an untouched cup of
coffee cooling next to it. His chest constricted as he caught sight of two men,
one short and dark, the other tall and blond, coming inside. Luca didn’t smile,
just walked up to the table and took a seat without asking. Patel waited next
to him like a lapdog.

“This your report?”

Jude nodded, pushing the envelope toward him. Luca didn’t
even glance at it, just picked it up and put it into his pocket. He pulled out
a second envelope from inside his jacket, setting it in the center of the
table.

“Your payment,” Luca said. Jude reached for it but Luca’s
hand snaked out, pinning his wrist to the table. “King wants to see you again.”

Jude jerked his hand away, bumping the coffee so it sloshed
over the edge. Around the coffee shop, people laughed and talked, unaware of
the drama taking place.

“I’m not interested,” Jude said in a strangled voice.

Patel made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat, but Luca
just stared. The mobster sniggered, then began to laugh.

“Oh my friend,” Luca sighed. “You don’t say ‘no’ to the
King.”

Jude eyed the cash on the table, and then the men across
from him. His heart was pounding so hard he could hear the blood rushing in his
ears. He stood up from the chair, forcing his voice to be steady.

“Actually, I just did.”

He turned and walked away, leaving the two men – and the
envelope of cash – behind him. By the time he made it down the street, Jude was
fighting a wave of nausea, his legs unsteady and loose.

He’d either done the smartest thing in his life… or the
stupidest.

Over the last few days, Indigo had begun to rely on Jude
being around. She didn’t like how she watched the clock, waiting for him to
stop by her class. Didn’t like that Jude’s was the last text she read at night,
and the first she read in the morning. The last few days he’d become overly
attentive, and that concerned her. She waited for the moment he’d disappear
again without a word, dropping out of her life as quickly as he had dropped in.

Today, however, he seemed content to stay. Like clockwork he
appeared at break, with coffee already in hand. Indigo took the paper cup with
a wink.

“Glad you remembered extra cream this time,” she said,
lifting the lid and peering inside. “Might have had to say ‘no’ otherwise.”

“I’m not going to forget,” Jude teased. “Figure if you say
yes to coffee enough times, you’ll forget about ‘maybe’.”

Her smile grew brittle. That was too close to happening
already. Indigo knew she could probably start to relax with him – to trust that
things might actually work out – but some part of her couldn’t.

She’d felt that way with Cal too.

Coffee in hand, they found a spot in the botany wing, the
air around them heavy with the scent of plants and moisture. Jude sipped his
coffee, talking about the day’s tech support calls, and the frustrations of
having to overhaul the Registrar’s server for the third time this year. Indigo
smiled and nodded, making helpful noises of agreement and concern. She did it
without even being aware she did. It was second nature to let someone else take
the stage. All the while, her mind’s eye drifted to another time. She couldn’t
help but compare the two of them – to wonder why she should expect
this
relationship
to turn out any better than her last had. She could imagine Shireese’s answer –
“Because this is Jude, and not Cal”
– but it was a faint echo compared
to her memories.

She’d been attending a fundraiser with a middle-aged
banker, the room full of people with too much money and too few interests to
fill up their time. They’d been assigned by table: Indigo and her date next to
Cal and his wife. Fiona was a patron, and she chattered on about the charity’s
work with inner city communities, and how rewarding she found the programs they
supported.

 Indigo, dressed in a velvet gown, smiled and
nodded, asking polite questions while her mind seethed. She hated people like
this: the rich who’d been born to it, those whose privilege had been assured by
birth. Fiona Martel-Woodrow, with her veneered teeth and bobbed hair, was a
lady who lunched, her understanding of poverty limited to the bad neighborhoods
she saw on television.

‘Fuck you,’ Indigo thought, but didn’t say.

People like Fiona were worse than ignorant, they were
oblivious. They were the cause of the system they claimed to want to fix. As
the meal continued, Indigo’s ember of discontent grew into hot indignation. By
the time the second course had been served, a plan had begun to smoulder in
Indigo’s mind, excitement rising before she’d even considered the consequences.

She glanced at the man sitting on her right side: the
banker was shovelling in mouthfuls of food, bits of it dripping onto a coat
that cost more than a month's rent. Indigo turned to the left: Fiona’s husband
sat next to her, seated between Indigo and his wife. He had longish blond hair
and sad eyes. He was staring dully down at his plate, scraping the fork
irritably on the tablecloth. When conversation veered toward him, he nodded but
didn’t respond. He might tolerate Fiona’s high-pitched chatter, but his mind
was clearly elsewhere. Sensing Indigo’s gaze, his eyes, brown like amber,
flicked up, glaring at her. Indigo didn’t turn away.

‘Yes,’ she thought with a smile. ‘You’ll do perfectly.’

Indigo smiled in remembrance and Jude smiled back. He was
still describing the challenge of the prerequisite system while she was back
nearly two years before.

“So Irene called me,” Jude said, “but I honestly have no
time for her shit. You’d think that she’d realize that every time the program
crashes and she reloads it all, she needs to reload my patch too…”

Indigo had spent the evening focused on Cal, the two of
them falling into conversation almost immediately. He was good-looking, of
course, but that wasn’t what interested her. It was the thought of punishing
his wife. By the time dinner had ended, Cal was touching her under the table,
his hand roving over the soft flesh of her leg, leaning in to whisper in her
ear.

“Come outside with me,” he growled.

She raised a brow.

“I don’t do things like this.”

Indigo sighed, and Jude leaned closer.