Driving is the exact opposite of that.
I pull out my phone, slide my finger across the screen, as if something different is going to happen this time.
No signal.
Screw Silas and all of this.
Conflicted. I think that’s what the shrinks call this shit. I have conflicted fucking feelings about her death.
I was more than interested in her death before I read that bullshit in her diary about killing the old man for money. Money, of all things. It’s not like we grew up with money and then lost it somehow. We never had any our whole lives. She never had any. So when the hell did money become so damn important?
So I don’t know why I’m crawling along this windy road up the side of the mountain and way the hell outside of West Bend. It’s colder as the elevation increases, the trees up here bare of leaves. I don’t know where this cabin is, but it’s cold enough here that there’s probably snow on the ground at the top. Normally, I’d be pleased about the fact that snow weather is coming soon. That means snowboarding. And snow bunnies.
Except now, all I’m thinking about is the fact that I’m driving my ass up the mountain in the damn cold while Autumn and Olivia are hanging out in their warm house without me.
I don’t like it.
I don’t like that I don’t like being away from them.
This whole thing is making me edgy as hell.
I check the paper again, holding it against my steering wheel as I squint to look at my crude drawing of Silas’ directions. If it were anyone but one of my brothers asking me to meet him and whoever the hell else up here in the middle of nowhere, I’d tell them they were fucking crazy.
But it’s Silas.
So I’m driving up to a remote cabin to meet him and his con artist girlfriend. And her team.
Isn’t that some shit?
When I finally find it, everyone is already there.
“Is this the twin?” A nerdy-looking dude yells from across the room before I even get a word out.
“We’re just brothers.” I look at Silas and roll my eyes. “I hope we don’t look that much alike. I’d hate having to look at your ugly mug in the mirror every day.”
“Yeah, unfortunately we’re brothers,” Silas says, wrapping his arm around me and trying to put me in a headlock. We struggle for a second until I look up to see his girl holding a glass of champagne and standing in front of us.
“Boys, please don’t destroy this place,” she says.
“Yeah, okay.” Silas laughs as he lets go of me and slides his arms around her. He says something to her, his face pressed against hers. I look away from the intimacy of the moment, a pang of jealousy running through me.
Silas makes the round of introductions. Tempest, his girl, is striking. She's way too beautiful to be with him, I decide to tell him later. And she’s smart. The whole group of them are. They're smart and charming and… criminals.
There’s Iver, dressed in a suit even though we’re out in the middle of nowhere, talking about places I’ve only seen on TV – Monte Carlo and Santorini and Crete. He should be a pretentious dick, the kind of guy with too much money that you just want to punch, except that in the next breath, he’s showing me how to scam people in card games.
There’s Emir, who I think might be the nerdiest nerd I’ve ever met. He hardly looks up at me when I walk in and basically spends the rest of the night hunched over computers – four of them lined up on a table, wires crisscrossing and zigzagging everywhere in a tangle – working on God-knows-what. Probably an algorithm involving world domination.
And there’s Oscar. Oscar is old school, the grandfather of the group. He’s classy and British or European or something with an accent, and he’s quiet. He looks completely unassuming, a doddering old man, but then he says something and you realize that not only has he heard everything going on, but that he’s sharp as a tack.
They make normal conversation, talking about old times, old heists, stuff I’d be interested in if it weren’t for the fact that I’m sitting here instead of at Autumn’s place. I get annoyed that we’re not talking about what we’re actually here for, the con or whatever the hell it is we’re going to do that’s going to solve everything. But then Elias is on the television, and I’m momentarily distracted. He doesn't flip me off at the awards show, although River does punch some jerk in the face who tries to talk in the middle of her acceptance speech, and I immediately like her.
I think about what Autumn and Olivia are doing right now. They’ve eaten dinner, I’m sure. I wonder what Autumn cooked – probably some atrocity. Olivia has had a bath by now. Autumn’s sitting beside her on the bathroom floor, her knees tucked up to her chest while looking at a magazine, Olivia playing in the tub with her bath toys and drawing on the walls with crayons made of soap. When Olivia’s done, Autumn’s bathing her and then reading to her.