Cut Me Free (13 page)

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Authors: J. R. Johansson

BOOK: Cut Me Free
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“They will if you have the right papers.”

“And that's what we're doing today?” She seems uncertain. I know she's afraid to get her hopes up. That's why I have to be sure not to disappoint her.

“Yep. Cam doesn't know it yet, but he'll help with that.”

When I see him coming down the street, heat spreads across my cheeks at the memory of his bare chest last night. I focus on the ground, trying to force my body to stop all the weird reactions it has to his presence. Lately, he creates a war inside me every time we're together. I don't like being a battleground.

His brown hair curls a little around his ears. It's so cute that it's unfair. His lips curve into a smile, and I wonder how long he'll keep that up after I tell him what I want. This is quite a favor, but I'm planning to pay him the same rate as before, so I don't know why he would have a problem with it. Even as I think about it, I know that isn't the real problem. The real problem is that he wants answers. So far, I haven't given him any.

And Sanda brings with her a whole new set of questions.

“Hi.” His eyes flick to Sanda before he continues. “Charlotte. Hi, Sanda.”

Sanda gives a little wave but hides behind me when I get to my feet and speak.

“Hi. Thanks for coming. Let's go inside.”

“Oh, wow. Such an honor to know I'm welcome in the building this morning.” He grins as he holds open the door for us and we head up the stairs to the apartment.

“I think it's smart to keep strange boys out of my house at night.” I raise one eyebrow. “You disagree?”

“At least you're honest about thinking I'm strange.” He winks as I turn toward the stairs.

Sanda rushes forward to walk up ahead of us, and I know she is trying to keep me between her and Cam. Sadness settles in my chest, but at the same time I understand her. These kinds of instincts will keep her alive.

“I need you to do what you do,” I say as we enter the apartment.

“What I do?” Now he's all business.

“I was hoping you could help her start over.” I extend one hand toward where Sanda has taken a seat on the arm of the couch. “The way you helped me?”

His eyes flash and he glances at her and back to me. “Piper…”

I flinch when he slips and uses my real name. His face tightens when he realizes his mistake, but he doesn't back down. Ignoring the confusion on Sanda's upturned face, I push harder. “She needs it for the same reasons I did.”

“And what are those reasons again?” Cam's frustration is so clear on his face. It demands the answers I keep refusing him.

I groan. “I'll be happy to pay the same amount as before.”

“That doesn't matter.” He's angry now, but after Sanda flinches, his voice becomes low and controlled. “I want to help you. God knows I do, but you keep too many secrets. Where did she come from? Why is she here?”

“She's my cousin.” I cross my arms over my chest.

“Lies are not going to work. You're asking a lot here.” He steps closer and turns so his back is to Sanda. He's hesitant as he slowly places his hands on my shoulders, and I fight not to jerk away as a jolt of fire runs through my body. “Why don't you know by now that you can trust me?”

“She was in trouble.” I stare into his eyes and beg him not to push for more. I can't risk telling him everything now. If he knew about the Parents or that I'd left Brothers to burn, he'd never understand. I can't risk Sanda's future by telling him, not until I have her papers. “I'm trying to help her get out of a bad situation. Please, for now, can't that be enough?”

“You're killing me. You know that?” he mutters, and removes his hands, sticking them in his back pockets. Tingles still run down my arms, amazing and terrifying. I freeze, not moving, barely breathing until I can get him to say yes.

“Please, Cam.”

“Fine.” He closes his eyes and gives a reluctant nod. I finally feel like I can relax again. “If you promise to answer any ten questions I want after we're done.”

Well, the relaxing didn't last long. My back stiffens. Why can't he leave my secrets alone? “Please, don't—”

“Sorry, it's a deal breaker. I think you're familiar with that concept.” He leans forward and his hazel eyes suck me in. Cam has the power here, pretending otherwise is pointless. He extends his hand and waits. I'd never have imagined myself agreeing to a demand like this, but this is for Sanda and her future.

“Okay, fine.
After
we're done.” But I can't stop my hand from trembling as I place it in his and agree to reveal every secret that keeps me safe.

*   *   *

Sanda's new name is Sandra, which is pretty much perfect. There's much less risk of her forgetting it and it's easy to explain the nickname. It's actually Sandra Roberts, which Sanda loves because one of Rachel's dolls is named Robert. Rachel told her he was named after her dad. He's in the military; so was her mom until she died in Afghanistan. Rachel said her parents' job was to be heroes to keep us safe. It works for me. Sanda needs more heroes in her life.

From the bits and pieces I'd picked up from Rachel, Janice has run into some obstacles in her life also. She used to be involved with some guy who was less than willing to let her go. That explains Janice's need for Cam's services.

Maybe we're all hiding more scars under the surface than it seems.

Cam had more options with identities for someone Sanda's age, so he picked the closest thing to her real name. When all a person has is a birth certificate and a Social Security number, it's easier to become them since there's very little legal photo identification stored anywhere. The real Sandra was a good fit because even though she lived in Missouri before she died of leukemia, her mother was Japanese, which made Sandra half Asian in all her records.

Sandra had only been eight years old when she died. I can't decide if it makes me feel better or worse that even a happy childhood can end in such tragedy. Terrible things happen all the time. Does this make my failure to save Sam any better? It doesn't feel that way.

We didn't tell Sanda about Sandra's death. I'm sure it would make her sad. According to the obituary, the girl had a loving family. At least someone buried her in a real grave with a real tombstone. At least her family mourns her. Cam said he hacked in and deleted the death certificate entries, so Sanda can have this identity as long as she wants.

“Well, what do you think?” Lily spins Sanda around in her chair to face the mirror. She's only cut off a couple of inches and made her hair all one length, but the change on Sanda's face is dramatic as she stares at herself in the mirror. Her dark eyes are wide as she reaches up and touches the ends. I can't help but smile, remembering how I felt after Lily worked her magic on me.

“I look pretty,” Sanda whispers, and lets out a shaky breath, but she doesn't take her eyes off the mirror. “Thank you.”

“No problem, kid.” Lily's face softens more than I've seen in days, until she raises her eyes to meet mine.

“Thanks, Lily.” I try to give her a smile, but her expression only tightens in response.

“Yeah, yeah … making hopes and dreams come true,” she mutters, but I think I see confusion in her face as she stuffs her scissors and combs in the bag. “Just a regular Wednesday for me.”

“I guess I'm up.” Cam walks in and tugs a stool over in front of us. “Ready to see my art?”

Sanda blinks at him and then up at me. “Sure?”

“I've gotta go.” Lily walks out the door without waiting for any of us to respond.

Cam frowns, shakes his head, and leads the way into a room behind the barbershop area. I prefer it back here with no windows. The attic had only the one covered with bars and it was so dirty on the outside it was hard to see through. I don't want anyone to be able to look at me when I can't see them.

The front door opens and closes again and Sanda gives a squeak before Cam reassures her.

“Lily must've forgotten something.” He walks back to the main barber room and it's immediately obvious that it isn't Lily.

“Now isn't a good time.” Cam's voice sounds cold and foreign.

“You can't walk away. That's not how it works with blood.” The man's voice sounds familiar, but I can't place it.

I move to stand between Sanda and the door without a second thought, and I feel her small hands grip the back of my shirt as she looks around me.

“I've made no promises to you. Besides, why can't you go to him?” I hear something foreign in Cam's tone that I've never heard there before, and it shakes me to the core. I hear fear.

“It's a lot of work for one guy, Marco.” The name brings Oscar, the thug from Angelo's, back to the forefront of my mind and I realize that's where I know the voice from. “And you know that he's busy with other odd jobs, too. We need you both.”

Cam's voice lowers so I have to strain to make it out. “If I promise to think about it, will you leave now? We aren't alone.”

A few seconds of silence pass before I hear Oscar reply. “You got that pretty chick from the other night hidden away, don't you?” He chuckles low then finishes. “See? Told you we was blood. You're just like your pops.”

I hear the front door swing open again, then Cam's voice. “I'll call you tonight and I'll think it over.”

“Okay. Have a fun afternoon,” Oscar's voice singsongs before I hear the door shut again, and this time the reassuring click of a lock slides into place.

Cam comes back looking flushed and angry.

“Everything okay?” I ask, as he starts moving boxes and tools around a little more forcefully than necessary. Sanda still hides behind me, and I know he isn't intending to scare her, but she jumps every time he slams something new down on the table.

“Yes.” He stops and forces out a puff of air before pivoting to face me. His eyes go immediately to Sanda and he winces.

“Who is that guy?” I ask, putting my arm around Sanda and nudging her forward to stand beside me.

“Oh, are we asking questions now?” His voice is soft, but the edge to it still stings. “How about you go first.”

Sanda stiffens under my hand, and I look down before I take a step toward the door. “Maybe we should finish this later.”

“No.” Cam closes his eyes tight and slumps down on the edge of the table before opening them again. His gaze is full of apology before he says the words. “I'm really sorry—to both of you.”

I nod without speaking. I have even less right to his secrets than he has to mine. We take seats on the empty table opposite Cam. He looks at us for a moment then stands, and we watch him fly around the room, moving from one fancy piece of equipment to the next. Some of the detailing he does by machine, some by hand. He has a briefcase of folders with different kinds of paper carefully separated into files.

I'm surprised that all this is tucked away in a room behind the abandoned barbershop. I'd seen some of the equipment when I'd been turned into Charlotte by Cam and Lily, but I hadn't been in this room before. There's a couch and a few tables. It's very clean and there's electricity and cold water, but I wonder how comfortable he is having all of this here. The equipment alone must be worth a lot of money, not to mention how much trouble it would cause if the wrong people found it. He sails through the motions effortlessly, his hands moving so fast I can barely keep up with what he's doing. After he gets going, he's intent and focused. I'm not sure he even remembers we're here.

I'm amazed again by the precision that goes into this work. The people who recommended Cam were right. He is the best. His hand glides deftly across a paper, adding a few details to a seal. If forging documents is what Oscar wants help with, I can see why he won't leave Cam alone.

“Where did you learn to do this?” My voice comes out breathy and heat pulses through my face. “I mean, did someone teach you?”

He laughs with his back to me but doesn't answer. After a moment, he turns and puts down the long slender tool he's been using.

“Aren't you the curious one today?” He grins at Sanda. She giggles and her hands fly up to cover her mouth. Cam glances at me and his brow furrows. When Sanda lowers her hands, her smile remains and my heart warms at the sight.

That is the response of a normal girl. One who hasn't grown up in a nightmare. It's a hint at something, a new beginning, a clue that I am doing something right.

He picks up a new tool with a tiny silver hook on the end and turns toward the passport. “My dad taught me. I started helping him when I was ten.”

“So this is some kind of
family
business you're taking over?” I hear the sneer in my voice when I speak the word “family,” but I can't stop it. Then I think of the word Oscar used: “blood.” Is this what he meant? Cam stiffens but doesn't even look in my direction before answering.

“No. I lived with him then. No idea where he is now.” He tilts his head to one side and moves the passport under what I think might be a microscope. “But I don't need his help anymore. I'm better than he ever was.”

“Oh.” I stop asking questions. I'm not sure if Cam is uncomfortable, but I know I would be. Sanda, however, doesn't seem to have the same concerns.

“Who do you live with now?” She's leaning forward and watching his every move. Nudging her, I get her attention and shake my head. She nods.

“My aunt.” He blows across the paper he's working on and smiles. “Oh, and Lily.”

“How do you know Lily?” Her words come out and then she lowers her head and swings her legs, sheepish. I can't help but laugh because she looks so much like a girl I'd seen in a cartoon on TV.

Cam's eyes fly up to mine. “You should really do that more often.” He doesn't turn away, and the warmth from his grin spreads across the room between us and soaks through my skin until I turn my attention to the desk beside me.

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