Slick as Ides (29 page)

I can barely see, my vision blurring from lack of sleep, but I keep cleaning.

“I’m almost done as well,” I say, my knuckles raw from scrubbing repeatedly in the same spot.

I run the black light over it once more. It’s better, but there’re still germs on my Formica. I suppose it’s not the end of the world since we’re leaving anyway, but fuck. I don’t like this.

I fight off a shiver, and it feels like tiny microscopic ants are marching across my spine.

“Go finish packing, and I’ll get this done for you,” he says, stepping up behind me.

I hand him the cleaning supplies and head back to my room.

The bag’s open. I toss in the cuffs, the ropes Nick left behind, along with a blindfold and gag I’ve purchased. I may need to use these on Riot if he becomes difficult and tries to stay with me once we get there.

I pack up my laptop along with a few of my inventions I’m working on I don’t want to lose track of.

My face scrunches as I place the chip I’d puked up, in my pocket and head out.

A pang of longing hits me, almost crippling me. My body bends forward at the waist, and I set my hands on the edge of the bed as I gasp for air.

I was with Nick in this bed. He unhinged me multiple times. No one else can do that to me.

What if this doesn’t work? What if he’s given up on me and no longer wants me?

I pat the chip in my pocket and cringe. This is it. Time to go.

One more pat of the chip, and I can’t seem to move.

I should implant it in my body.

I like the idea of Nick being able to read my body’s signals somehow. Jesus, that’s insanely hot.

I grab my remote I’ve created over the last few weeks. The antidote to what Nick took from me.

Retrieve this, my love . . .

I hit the button and gloat to myself.

He’ll have no idea what’s hit him. He’ll be with me soon enough.

“Okay, I’m ready,” I shout to Riot.

When I walk out to the kitchen, he smiles, puts away the cleaning supplies, and like I’ve shown him, he goes through the kitchen, shutting everything down that has to be manually handled.

“Power down,” I tell the chip inside me, and the house does as I ask.

“I’m ready now, too.” He grabs a soda, raises it to me in celebration and pops it open, taking a healthy swig. “God, that tastes amazing!” He groans, smiling like he’s sugar-buzzed. He finishes it off quickly in several large gulps, tosses the can in the recycling, then joins me at my side as I head out to the garage.

“You’re gonna take
this
one?” he asks me as I set my bag in my car Nick had stolen over two months ago. The silver eyesore.

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“I have my reasons.” My chest heats as I near the car.

His brow creases, and he offers a half shrug, stuffs his bag in the back next to mine and gets in.

“You sure you’ve got everything you need?” he asks.

“I’m sure. I won’t ever have to come back to this place if I don’t want to.” I blink and try to clear my mind of all the memories of Nick naked, here in my home and garage, hacking through my mental walls and defenses.

I start the engine, open the garage door and we drive off.

And I don’t care if anybody sees Riot’s with me.

Let them know.

I’ll have Riot in hiding again in a few hours, and then I’ll cease to exist.

I won’t matter, so neither will he.

“You seem awfully calm, considering we’re executing our own public death,” he tells me, eyes on my hands.

“We’re not faking our deaths—we’re just morphing into new identities, that’s all.”

“That’s
all
?” His voice breaks. “Really? We’re gonna part ways, I won’t have any clue what you’re changing your name to and you’ll forget all about me.” His hand smacks on his thigh and he stares out the side window.

“I won’t forget about you. I’ll be keeping tabs,” I say, my voice sounding more irritated than I want it to.

He’s hurting, and I sound like he’s a burden. That’s not what he is to me. I just don’t know how to do this—to let him know I care without sounding like I’m leading him on.

“Goodie.” He huffs.

“You’re my best friend, and you have been for a long time now. I don’t have anyone else but you that I confide in. Of course I won’t ever forget about you.” My voice is softer this time. I reach out and touch his hand even though my skin is crawling when I do it, and my mind is vomiting up all the reasons this is repellent.

He startles and when he turns his head to look at me, there’s a melding of emotions swimming in his eyes—sorrow, regret, love, hope, and friendship.

“It hurts and heals to hear that, and I don’t know what to say.” His eyes go soft and then heavy.

“I’m sorry.” I take a breath, then hold his hand. “I wanna be there for you, since you’ve meant so much to me, but I don’t want to hurt you any more than I already have.”

He smiles in an understanding way. “You’re not. This
does
help.”

“Good. I’m glad.” I pull onto the freeway on-ramp, and divert my attention for a moment. “Let’s talk about how we’re going to handle this when we get there.” I suck my lips in as a car behind me gets closer than I’m comfortable with.

Is this person tailing me?

I swallow the scruffy, dry lump in my throat and a second later, it’s back when the lights on the car behind us flash at me.

The car speeds around me, and I’m flipped off.

“Jeez,” I groan. “Impatient prick.”

“What a jerk,” he agrees.

I shake my head and go back to my original thoughts. “Okay, so at the hotel we’ll probably be on separate floors, but it should be fine.”

My phone vibrates in my pocket. I’m sure it’s a text.

About time. I contacted him yesterday . . .

“We’ll meet up at the
Walking Dead
panel at Comic Con.”

He chuckles. “I still can’t believe you were able to get tickets at the last minute. But zombies? You’re scared to death of them.”

I sigh. “Oh, Riot, Riot,
Riot
. . . Lest you forget, I have connections and a fuck-load of money I don’t do anything with other than amass it and put it right back into my company for research on my inventions. It wasn’t hard.” I blow out a puff of air. “And zombies aren’t a concern. I’m armed heavily with very potent sanitizer. I won’t taste good since I’ve got cleansers oozing out of my pores.”

He chuckles. “Nothing’s ever hard for you.” He squeezes my hand. “Must be nice.”

Except Nick . . . He’s very difficult.

“Wouldn’t know. I struggle with everything, but this”—I give one more squeeze of his hand—“you and me as friends—that’s easy. I can
do
this.”

He smiles but his eyes frown at me.

“It’ll be all right. You’ll see. I’ll make sure you’re happy and well taken care of.” I remove my hand and relax back into my seat.

It’s gonna be a long-ass drive if he’s going to be all mopey.

I turn on some music.

He hums.

I wish this was over already.

* * *

Two hours ago . . .

“Jason, where the hell are you?” I grip my phone tight to my ear.

“I called you hours ago. Don’t get all snippy with me. I’ve been here getting it done for you. God, he better quit being such an asshole after this. If this doesn’t prove to him he’s like a brother to me, then I don’t know what will.” He taps on some keys on the other end of the phone.

“Everyone’s ready then?”

“Yeah. I said I’d handle it, and I have.” He snorts.

“When did he leave? Is he okay?” I pace in the bathroom, locked away, even though I’m on my own.

“Uh . . .” There’s some movement and a few more key strokes. “He left about two hours ago. He should be arriving soon. I don’t know which hotel he’ll pick though. He’s about as predictable as a parachuting gorilla—and those fuckers hurt if they land on you.”

I laugh. “I usually like monkeys rather than gorillas. They’re smaller.”

“And I give a fuck because . . . ?”

I laugh harder. “You’re such a dick.” I sit on the floor since the toilet seat is off limits until I’ve scrubbed that thing down. “I’m not worried. The chip will make him come here. Just make sure the front desk sends him to the correct room, all right?”

“Yeah, yeah, boss. I got it. Stop worrying. Jesus, I thought he was a pain in my ass, always hovering and micromanaging. You’re a hundred times worse.” He ends the call.

“Fuck you, and your little dog, too. Toto’s hotdog meat, pal.” I shove my phone in my pocket.

When my head stops racing as it goes over all the details, I get out my kit and start sanitizing the shower and toilet.

After I’m done, I take a long, hot soaking shower and get ready. It’s silly, but I want to look nice for this event.

He probably won’t notice since I’m sure I’ll still look like I wandered in off the street, but at least I can smell nice.

I apply some light makeup and even blow dry, then straighten my hair. Rarely have I used these items, but I can manage.

I pull on my sexiest pair of jeans I own, some new shoes I picked up a few days ago and even go so far as to put on a purple blouse for him. A little color won’t kill me, and I want to stand out a little so he’ll notice me if it comes down to him being in the crowd.

When I’m presentable, I call up my other accomplice.

“Get his door open, please. I need to get in there.”

“Sure. I’ll be right over.” His deep voice fades, and the line goes dead.

I sit on the edge of the bed and take several deep breaths.

How much longer ‘til he’s here? I can barely stand it—this waiting’s killing me.

A few moments later, I head over to what will be his room. I set the supplies in place and make sure they’re hidden from view.

I leave as quickly as possible so my scent won’t linger. He can’t know I was here, or this will be over before it’s started.

When I get back to my room, I go back to handling his invention.

I search the Internet for signs he’s working on it, but he’s abandoned all his Dropbox accounts, and according to my sources, he hasn’t been online in weeks.

Has he given up on all his wonderful ideas?

A part of me dies inside over thinking he might doubt his genius, but another part hopes he
has
dropped it for a while so I can do this thing for him.

I want this for him more than he can possible know.

A few more hours and invention “White Flag” will be complete.

A few more hours and operation “Ides can sleep” will be underway, too.

Thank God. I can’t wait for both of them.

My eyes can’t go much longer.

“Ides, open up. It’s me—Riot.”

There’s a faint knocking at my door.

I hide my laptop away and answer it.

“Come on in,” I say, stepping aside.

“That animal, Jason, shanked me in my room. Take a look at this!” He extends his left forearm, and there’s a scratch there.

“I can barely see it. You sure it was Jason and not your allergies acting up to the detergents they use on your linens in your room?” I squint and examine it.

“Not funny!” He drops his arm and his lower lip juts out.

“I told him to handle this, so he is.” I turn away and head over to the window, watching for some sign—anything to say Nick’s on his way or is arriving right now.

“He took my phone, my laptop, all of my personal electronic devices. I’m dead without them. You know this! Call him up and get them back,” he says, keeping his distance.

“You won’t need them. We’re going to go get throw-away phones right now. As soon as you’re away from this place, you can have whatever you like.”

“I want my old stuff back,” he says, voice cold and low.

“Not happening.” I turn around and cross my arms over my chest, staring him in the eye. “It’s too dangerous. Besides, he’s probably already disintegrated them. They don’t exist, and neither does Chad Thayer or Riot. You’ll have a new identity. A new life—a much better one.”

He keeps pouting, and his face reddens. “Fuck you. This isn’t okay!”

“You’re welcome.” I march toward him. “Take my hand. I’ll only offer it once. Take it, and we’ll start this new journey together. It’ll be worth it in the end.”

He sucks his lips in and stares at the door, past me. “I didn’t want it to be this way. It’s not too late. We can go back.” His voice is distant and eerie sounding.

I pull the door open. “No one wants it to be this way, but it’s the best I can do. I shouldn’t’ve ever let you be a part of my life. I knew that then, and I know that now. This is my fault, and for that, I’m sorry. I’m fixing this now. No more pain. You run this once, and then you’re free.”