Miles’s expression flattened out the way it always did when he was dealing with information rather than emotions. To anyone else, he probably looked bored or annoyed. To me, he looked relaxed. The content cat. “That makes sense. He would have access to records. It would’ve been harder for him to find out about my mother, but . . .”
I rubbed my head. “I honestly didn’t think Celia would hurt you. I thought . . . I thought she still liked you too much.”
“I guess she’s had enough.”
“Tucker and I think we can figure out what McCoy’s master plan is, but we need your help.”
“With what?”
“We’re going to break into his house.”
Miles brought out the Magnificent Quirked Eyebrow, which made me feel better. That expression meant that things were at least kind of okay.
“Are you sure that’s what you want to do?”
“Tucker said if we’re going to find anything incriminating, it won’t be at school, and he’s right. It’ll be at McCoy’s. While I’m sure I could just John McClane my way into his house by shooting down the front door, I figured you might be able to do the job a little more discreetly.”
“So basically you’re saying if I don’t agree, you’re going to go anyway, but you’re pretty sure you’ll get caught.”
“Basically.”
“But you know I don’t want you to get caught.”
“Yes.”
“So you’re blackmailing me.”
“Yep.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I can get behind that,” he said. “When?”
“I don’t know. Are you sure you won’t mind it if Tucker’s there? Can you two play nice?”
“Maybe.”
“Would it help if I told you this was Tucker’s idea?”
Now both eyebrows were up. “Well, fuck me.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
He leaned over and kissed my temple. The times he kissed me were so few and far between, I couldn’t help but smile.
“I’ll meet you by the track,” he said, walking away without further explanation.
Chapter Forty-two
When I arrived at the baseball field minutes later, the visitor stands were already packed full of red-clad Hillpark fans, many of whom I recognized even from a distance. They formed one undulating mass of red, the head of a dragon rising from their midst. Its scales glimmered in the sun and flames licked from its mouth. The Hillpark side was separated from the East Shoal side by the concession stand and press box planted behind home plate.
I kept my eyes peeled for any sign of Miles.
What I saw instead were Cliff and Ria, on their way to the bleachers from the concession stand. I froze like a deer in headlights when they neared—this was what I got for not doing a good perimeter check. If I’d done the perimeter check, I wouldn’t have run into them, I wouldn’t look like an idiot, I wouldn’t . . .
“Watch out, babe, she’s dangerous,” Cliff said to Ria, holding out an arm like he was going to protect her from something. Protect her from you, idiot. I gritted my teeth and tried not to look at them.
“I’m not dangerous,” I said, keeping my voice level.
“Yeah, and your boyfriend isn’t a Nazi,” Ria scoffed.
For a second I wondered what Miles ever saw in her. She must’ve been horrible to him, because nothing else would make him hate her so much.
Now I understood why the nicknames made Miles so upset, and I couldn’t listen to it anymore. “Don’t call him that.”
“Really?” Ria blinked, eyes wide and innocent. “Because he’s kind of asking for it today.”
Anger balled up in my chest. “And you’re kind of asking to be called a bitch.”
I hardly realized I was saying the words until they were out of my mouth.
Ria almost dropped her soda. Her voice turned flat and sharp and deadly. “What did you just call me?”
I couldn’t back down now. “You’re a bitch. Sleeping with other guys just to make him jealous”—I jabbed a finger at Cliff—”is pretty far into the definition of bitch, I think.”
Ria’s knuckles turned white around the soda bottle. I really really hoped she didn’t charge at me—my legs weren’t going to move very fast, even if I asked them.
“Take that back,” she said, voice tight. “Fucking take it back, or I swear to God—”
I didn’t listen to the rest of her threat—I lowered my head and walked past them, toward the concession stand, to wherever Miles was. Coming to this game didn’t seem like such an awesome idea anymore. I took deep gulps of air, thinking about the trouble I could get into for saying things like that to people like Ria. I could already imagine them formulating a plan. Fuck. Oh, fuck.
I needed to find Miles.
I didn’t have to look far. I spotted him walking toward the visitors’ bleachers. My heart jumped into my throat and my stomach dropped, leaving a gaping void in my chest where vital things belonged.
He was a Nazi.
Or he was dressed like one. The brown suit. The black boots and gloves. The hat. The glaring armband. A saber hung at his side and the German flag from East Shoal’s Flags-of-the-World entryway rested against one shoulder. He pulled his hat off and wiped his forehead. He’d gelled his hair back, finally putting it in some kind of order.