Perfect (Flawed #2)

“I should have reported you as soon as I saw you; why else would I leave you there?”


“I don’t know what to think anymore.”

“You got away, didn’t you? You’re a tough cookie; I knew you’d be fine.”

Which is apparently the message I give out to most people when, in fact, the opposite is true.

“Two things. There’s another Whistleblower on our side. His name is Marcus—he’s Professor Bill Lambert’s Whistleblower.” Marcus helped Granddad hide from the Whistleblowers at the Lamberts’ house; he made sure we weren’t seen. “I have to get in touch with him. There are some people here who need hiding in a safe place.”

Kate is silent.

“Hello?”

“He’s my husband,” she says quietly.

I smile with surprise and punch the air, grateful for life’s wonderful coincidences.

“So he can get my people to the right place?”

“Yes, I’ll call him right away.”

“There’s another thing. I need an address for someone called Raphael Angelo.”

“Raphael’s your next move?”

“Yes.”

“I can get it, but no one has seen him for years. Crevan scared him off a long time ago.”

“Well, then we already have something in common.”





THIRTY-THREE

RAPHAEL ANGELO LIVES in the mountains, a two-hour drive from Vigor, deep in the forests, on mountainous terrain. He is more than off the beaten track: I wouldn’t have found him in a million years. Even finding our way there with Kate’s specific directions is difficult.

While the others use the Jeep from Vigor to get to Alpha and Bill Lambert, Leonard gives Carrick and me the use of his car. I will never be able to repay him for his help, especially as this is aiding a Flawed and carries a prison sentence, but I plan to try to do all that I can for him.

This drive through the mountains is the first time Carrick and I have been alone since the early morning hours. I’ve barely had time to think about it, but now that we’re away from the city and safely in the mountains, mostly Whistleblower-free, we both relax. He rolls down the windows, puts the music on low, avoiding the radio stations that are announcing to the country how I once again evaded the Whistleblowers.

If it’s a Crevan-owned station, the story is that I’m a fugitive to be feared and avoided. If it’s regular stations, then the discussion is why an eighteen-year-old woman is so hunted, and is it that easy to evade the system? Is the system itself flawed? Is there any reason at all for Flawed to be so monitored, if I’m living quietly and not causing trouble? What is the Guild trying to prove? All good questions.

Except that each discussion is shot down by the Crevan media, who pinpoint me as the cause of every single riot that has broken out around the city, using footage of the supermarket riot where I stood up to the police officer as proof.

“Are you okay?” Carrick asks, reaching across and holding my hand in my lap.

“Yes.”

“I mean, after last night … are you okay?”

It was my first time and I’d told him; he was gentle and understanding, constantly making sure I was okay. And though he never said, I know it wasn’t his. Those institution boys have a reputation, at least that’s what Mona told me. And I’ve a feeling she’d known—that she was at least a part of creating that reputation. Not with Carrick, though, I’m sure that nothing ever happened between them.

“Oh, that. Yes, I’m fine, thanks.” I blush and he smiles.

The smile transforms his face. I’m so used to seeing him tense and stern, but his smile makes him look younger.

“How did you know that Professor Lambert owns Vigor?” he asks, studying me curiously.

I laugh. “Carrick, you’re the one who keeps telling people that I have magical powers, and then when I get something right, it surprises you?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“I recognized the company logo. I couldn’t remember where I’d seen it when I first arrived, but then it clicked. I’d seen it in his office. And it’s typical of his sense of humor, too, to invest in that kind of company.” I laugh.

He frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Carbon is a waste that pollutes. So Vigor finds a way to use it as a resource.”

“Yes,” he says, still confused.

“And they’re using Flawed to do that. We are the carbon.” I chuckle. “The thing that nobody wants. Turning a problem into a solution. It is textbook Professor Lambert. He gave me some advice, and I didn’t understand it at the time, but I do now.” I change my tone. “Bill and Alpha told me that you were placed with them after you left the institute.”

“Neighboring homes, the Institution calls them,” he says angrily. “More like halfway houses where they monitor your every move. Out of one prison, into another. Their job is to help you slide into society under their care. But really it’s to keep an eye on you so they can report back to the institution. If I’d known that Professor Lambert had anything to do with the plant, I would never have gone there.”

“You think that Bill reported you to the Guild?” I ask, surprised.

“I’m not on as close terms with him as you are, obviously,” he says, removing his hand from mine and gripping the steering wheel, face closing back up again.

“I only met Bill once,” I say quietly. “Alpha was my math teacher, the only teacher willing to homeschool me after my school politely asked me to leave for the good of their reputation.” I can’t be bothered to hide the bitterness in my voice.

He looks at me, gentleness back on his face, concern for all I went through after we parted ways.

“Carrick, tell me what happened to make you not trust them,” I say softly.

He takes his time, the anger evident as he retells the story. “I was in their care when I was searching for my parents, it had only been a day, I’d barely started looking around for Mom and Dad, then all of a sudden I was hauled into Highland Castle. There were photographs of me visiting the last place I’d been taken.”

“Photos? That’s all? That doesn’t prove that you were trying to find your parents,” I say, annoyed. “Since when does taking a trip down memory lane make you Flawed?”

“The guy I spoke to at the house, who’d rented us a room thirteen years ago, made a statement to the Guild,” he says, resigned.

“Still, Carrick, that’s nothing. Since when is asking questions—”

“I wasn’t going to deny it, Celestine,” he says angrily, then takes a moment to calm down. “Besides, I enjoyed admitting exactly what I was doing. I didn’t find my parents, but it was as damn close to a success as I could get, just to see the look on their faces when they’d realized they’d failed.”

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