Ctrl Z

chapter 13: Taking a Stand

The drive back into the city passed in uneasy quiet. Jude took surreptitious glances at Indigo, trying ineffectively to read her mood. She slumped up against the window, arms wrapped around herself. It was like Indigo was somewhere else, a shell left in her place.

Jude wanted to say something – anything! – to make it better, but he had no idea what. Barring his father’s death, Jude had led a relatively cushioned life. Uncertain how to bridge the gap, he focused on driving, not speaking again until they reached the highway. He had never been good at talking about his emotions. Growing up, he and his father had connected through activities: playing basketball and going to the movies. His mother, absent for most of Jude’s childhood, had talked at him, rather than to him.

That hadn’t changed when fate had thrown her back into his life.

“Your dad knew something bad was going to happen,” his mother had explained, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. “He knew, but he went anyway.”

His mother had been sobbing ever since Jude had arrived, and for some reason that infuriated him even more than her words. She had no right to grieve him! Not when she’d been the one who left. Not when she didn’t care.

“What do you mean, Dad called you?” Jude had choked.

“He had a bad feeling when the call first came into the station,” his mother had explained. “He phoned me on the way down to the docks. Told me to take care of you if anything happened to him.”

“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.