Rylin did as he said, her heart hammering. Anyone looking in would think he was overwhelmed, hanging his head in his hands, and she was comforting him. His fists were almost at his chin, blocking his mouth from view.
“The C line, on seventeen,” he went on. “Behind the left-side mech panel. I need you to clear it out. All of it. Don’t leave anything there, especially not the Anderton Spokes. V will reach out to you soon, to set up a time and place for the handoff. Give everything to him. It should be enough to cover my bail. Mainly thanks to you, stealing those Spokes,” he added.
Rylin was speechless. Had Hiral really amassed fifteen thousand nanodollars of drugs? When had that happened? “Hiral, you know I can’t,” she said slowly. “Not with Chrissa. If I get caught, she ends up in foster care.”
His eyes hardened, and he looked up sharply. “So the rest of us can risk jail all the time, but you’re too good for it?”
“I’m sorry.” Rylin tried to keep her voice even. “What about V? He could handle it.”
“You know he can’t get into the locker room. Besides, I only trust you with this.”
“Hiral, please—”
“Do you want me to stay in here? Is that it?” he snarled, his face reddening.
“Of course not, but—”
“Damn it, Ry!” Hiral slammed his fist on the table. She jolted back, but he grabbed her wrist with an iron grip. “You’re going to do this for me, okay? This is what people in relationships do for each other. They help each other, protect each other. You’re going to help me get out of here, because you’re my girlfriend.” He said it as if it were a curse word. “And, because you’re my girlfriend, I’ll protect your secrets.”
“My secrets?” Rylin whispered.
“What you took from Cord. I love you, Rylin. I would never tell on you, no matter how many times they ask me about it.”
Rylin felt as though she’d been kicked in the chest. He was threatening her about the stolen Spokes. Her eyes flicked up to the walls, feeling dazed. Could the cops be listening to this?
“I told you, I’m not important enough for them to eavesdrop on,” Hiral said, reading her mind. He leaned back and released her hand. Rylin pulled it into her lap. He’d been holding it so tight her fingers had gone numb.
“Okay. I’ll help,” she said, the words torn forcibly out of her. She didn’t have a choice.
“Of course you will.”
Rylin braced her hands on the table. It felt suddenly like there was no air in the room. The walls closed in on her as if she were the one imprisoned.
She couldn’t break up with Hiral. At least, not yet. She had to stay with him until she got through this, and got him out of jail.
“Now come give me a kiss,” Hiral said, with a nod to his shackled ankles. Obediently Rylin stood and walked around the table. She started to brush her lips lightly on his, but Hiral reached up and grabbed her forcibly, his lips hard and unyielding, almost bruising.
After a moment she pulled back. She felt cold all over. “I should get home,” she said, and turned to walk back through the guard’s room and out the front door.
“See you soon!” Hiral called out behind her.
For a few minutes Rylin walked without even realizing where she was going. Hiral’s ugly threat kept replaying in her head. Finally she stopped in her tracks and wrapped her arms around herself, still trembling uncontrollably.
She was standing at the entrance to the A line, the one that went straight up to Cord’s place. Why not? she decided; he wouldn’t be home till much later anyway. It would be nice to escape for a while into Cord’s safe, blackmail-free, upper-floor world.
* * *
Several hours later Rylin was curled up on an armchair in Cord’s library, with the fireplace holo turned on and an old instaphoto book of his mom’s in her lap, when she heard a noise in the doorway. “Cord, I’m sorry,” she said, only to look up and see Brice. She hadn’t even realized he was back in town.
“Looks like you’re working hard,” he drawled.
“Cord lets me take breaks,” she said defensively. But she knew what it looked like, her making herself at home like this, and he knew it too.
Brice threw up his hands in surrender. “Far be it from me to criticize. I like jobs with benefits too, you know.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Rylin said. He took a step forward, and she shrunk back, holding the book in front of her like a shield. “Listen, why don’t you—”
“What’s going on?” Cord stood in the doorway. Rylin’s heart gave a grateful lurch.
“I was just having a scintillating conversation with our maid here, about work ethics.” Brice winked and slunk out the door.
“I’m sorry,” Rylin said uncertainly, though why she was apologizing, she wasn’t sure.
“Oh, that’s just Brice. He acts all scary, but his heart’s in the right place.”
Is it, though? Rylin thought. She knew that Cord’s assholeness was just an act—and she knew where he’d learned it from—but she wasn’t so sure with Brice.
“What are you looking at?” Cord nodded at the book as he took the seat next to her.
“Nothing, really.” Rylin had been flipping idly through the photos, looking for more images of her mom, though she hadn’t found any so far. “I didn’t mean to lose track of time,” she added, but Cord waved her protest away.
“I love this room too.” He glanced around at the shelves of antique books, the floral-printed carpet under their feet, the simulated fire, crackling and emanating heat so convincingly that it seemed real.
Rylin looked from the antique clock on the wall to Cord. He was wearing a plain gray T-shirt, and there was dirt caked around the hems of his jeans. “You skipped school again today?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.
“Special occasion,” was all he said. Then, “Hey, I haven’t seen those pics in forever! Are those of my fourth-birthday party? The Aladdin-themed one with the holo genie?”
Rylin wordlessly held out the photo album, and Cord began flipping through the pages; stopping here and there to point out childhood versions of his current friends, an enormous cake with far more than four candles, a holographic magic show that apparently scared Brice so much he wet his pants. Rylin nodded from time to time, not really paying attention. In her mind she was still in that prison visiting room, seeing Hiral in a new light.
Cord had stopped talking and was looking at her expectantly, clearly waiting for an answer to something. “Oh!” Rylin exclaimed, startled. “That’s so … um …”
Cord put his hand over hers. “Rylin. What’s going on?”
Rylin flipped her hand over and laced her fingers in his. She hated that she couldn’t be fully honest with Cord. She was trapped by all the lies she’d told, building and building on top of one another like that old party game where you stacked tiles until they fell over. “A friend of mine was arrested. I visited him in jail today,” she admitted, telling as much of the truth as she could. “It’s got me a little shaken up, to be honest.”
“I’m sorry,” Cord said. Rylin gave a helpless shrug. “What was he arrested for?” he added after a moment.
“Dealing.”
“Did he do it?”
Something about the question put Rylin on the defensive. “Yeah, he did,” she said shortly.
“Well—”
“You don’t get it, okay? You don’t understand what it’s like downTower, that sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to! Because you don’t have a choice!”
“You always have a choice,” Cord said quietly.
Rylin stood up abruptly, closing the instaphoto album and putting it back on the shelf. A rational part of her knew that Cord was right. But for some reason she was still upset.
“Hey. I’m sorry.” Cord came up and wrapped his arms around her from behind. “You’ve had a rough day. I didn’t mean to … I’m sorry,” he said again.
“I’m fine,” Rylin protested, though she didn’t move.
They stood for a while like that, saying nothing. There was something strangely calming about his stillness. Finally Cord stepped back.
“I, for one, am starving,” he said, in a clear effort to break the tension. “What should we order?”