Hardcore Volume 3 (6 page)

THE PEDALS OF MY bike spun around like my thoughts the next day as I rode through Midtown, not sure how to feel. We’d all been shaken by Jade and had stayed up most of the night trying to distract ourselves, anticipating the knock at the door, the sirens, the handcuffs. But none came.

Jace had blown up the burner line that I’d used to call Jade with texts and calls all night long, smart enough not to use our main lines, even as pissed as he was. He was in deep shit, and he knew it. But that morning, everything stopped. Absolute silence. And with that, I knew he’d been picked up.

My radio crackled from my strap, snapping me back into the moment.

“Last drop, Cory,” Sam said. “Check your app for the pickup address.”

“Roger, boss.” I pulled to a stop at a light and checked my phone.
1826 51
st
.
 
The Kyle Building.
My heart flashed with pain as I stared down at my screen.

A Town Car behind me honked, and I looked up to see the light had changed. He honked again, and I leaned forward, flipping him off without looking as I sped away.

It wasn’t Van’s apartment. That was the only silver lining, though the thought disappointed me almost as much as I was relieved. Deep down, I couldn’t help holding out hope that he would change his mind, and I let myself daydream for a moment that the pickup was his. That he’d planned it all again, just like the first time. That I’d go to his apartment and knock on his door, and he’d open it with a smile on his face and forgive me. That he’d let me back in after everything I’d done.

I barreled around a corner, knuckles white as I gripped my handlebars.
 

He didn’t want me. Not anymore.

I pedaled my way through the city, back into Hell’s Kitchen with dread winding its way through me. And when I pulled up in front of that building with the big, silver letters, I wasn’t sure if I could cross the threshold. I locked my bike with fumbling hands.
 

George stood at the door, smiling wide. “Miss James, it’s good to see you. How are you?”

I tried to smile back. “I’ve been better. It’s good to see you, too, George.”

“Are you here to see Mr. Collins?”

I shook my head, feeling sick. “No, not today. I have a pickup for a delivery.”

He nodded, his kind eyes seeing a bit more of me than I’d wanted to show. “Well, let me know if I can help you.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you in a few.”

I walked through the quiet lobby and to the elevator with my mind a tangled mess as I stepped into the metal box and hit eighteen. I watched the numbers light as the elevator climbed, waited for it to hit sixteen — Van’s floor — willing it to stop and dreading the possibility that it would. But sixteen came and went, and I stepped into the quiet hallway of the eighteenth floor not feeling better or worse about any of it.
 

I knocked on the door of 1826 and accepted the package, barely hearing the man as he gave me instructions and the address for the delivery, though I nodded and logged it in my app. The door closed. I walked away.

When I stepped back into the elevator, I reached for the buttons, pausing over sixteen for a long moment, wishing I had the courage to press it. I hit the ‘L,’ and the doors closed. They didn’t open again until I hit the ground floor.

I blew through the lobby and toward the door where George stood, propping it open. He tipped his hat as I rushed by.
 

“Hope to see you again soon, Miss James.”

I couldn’t even respond, only gave him a nod and made my way to my bike. I unlocked it in a flurry, swung my leg over the frame, and took off, gears grinding.
 

An hour later, I pulled up in front of the loft, my day done. My thighs burned from pushing too hard, riding too fast, but it was a comforting ache. A reminder that I could punish myself in a way that would make me stronger. I hoisted my bike, hooking the frame on my shoulder as I made my way up the stairs and into the loft, pausing when I heard men’s voices echoing from the living room.
 

I set my bike down and followed the sound to find Cher, Morgan, and Erin sitting on the couch, facing two cops in street clothes, who stood as I entered. I don’t know how I knew they were cops, exactly. They just put out that air of responsibility and ability to enforce, even without their uniforms.
 

One of the detectives extended a hand. “Corinne James?”

I clasped it. “Cory.”

“I’m Detective Lucero, and this is my partner, Detective Hensley. We were just chatting about your friend Jade Harris and her brother.”

“What’s going on?” The girls shifted on the couch to make room, and I took a seat next to Erin.
 

Lucero and Hensley sat too, and Lucero continued. “We found her locked in an electronics store last night.”

“What?” I gaped.
 

“It seems like an attempted robbery gone south, though she denies it.”

“Stealing?” I shook my head. “I knew something was up with her. She’s been doing it for a long time, hasn’t she? Was Jace with her too? I knew something was weird with their business, but I never suspected she was stealing. None of it ever seemed right.”

 
“No, it doesn’t.” He flipped back a few pages of his notebook but didn’t elaborate. “You’ve known the Harris twins for some time, is that right? Used to live with them?”

I nodded. “We’ve known them since high school.”

“How much do you know about their business?”

“Not much. Party rentals or something? I never really asked, and Jade was always vague. She and I haven’t been close for some time.”

He nodded and jotted in his notebook. “Did you ever see any suspicious activity while you were living with them?”

“We usually tried to stay out of each other’s way, honestly. She went out late at night a lot, but otherwise, no. They always had money, even though they slept all day. I really knew almost nothing about the business.” I ran a hand over my mouth. “I just can’t believe this. What do you think they were doing with the stuff they stole?”

“We can’t discuss an ongoing investigation, although I will say that we’ve potentially connected her with a few other robberies in the area. I have a list of dates here, mind taking a look?”

“Not at all.” I reached for the offered notepad and glanced at the dates and names of some of the stores we’d knocked off.
 

“Do you recall where you were for these dates?”

I studied the list a moment, wondering how much the girls and I were suspected. “I need to sit down and really look at the calendar. Can I get a copy of this?”

“Sure.” He flipped to a blank page and began to write, eyes on the paper, though he didn’t stop speaking. “You said you girls hadn’t been friends with her in a long time. Bad blood?”

Morgan shook her head. “Not really. She just wasn’t ever what one would call ‘cuddly.’”

Lucero chuckled and glanced up. “Then why keep living with her?”

Erin sighed. “She paid for our place, and we lived there for free. In Manhattan. Jade was always throwing money around, and I just thought her and Jace’s business was a success.”

“And do you all …” he checked his notepad, “parkour too?”

I nodded. “We have since high school. That’s how we started hanging out with Jade in the first place. Why do you ask?”

“Just seems like it would really help out if you were trying to steal something.”

I shrugged. “I never really thought about it like that. We run because we love it. Ever seen a view that just takes your breath away?”

Lucero smiled. “My wife and I honeymooned in Hawaii. I was lucky enough to have breathtaking views every day. Of the island, too.”

I smiled back. “It’s like that, but in the city we love.”

“Well, let’s start with getting you girls cleared on these dates.” His eyes twinkled as he ripped the paper off and handed it to me.

I took it and rested my hands in my lap. “Thanks. We’ll get this over to you.”

They stood, and so did we. “All right. Thanks for your time, ladies. We’ll be in touch.”

We escorted the detectives out, breathing a collective sigh when the door had closed behind them.

“The fuck,” Erin said and opened the fridge, pulling out four beers. “I think we earned these.”

Morgan shook her head and reached for a beer. “She must have kept her mouth shut because they didn’t even really seem suspicious. More like they were doing it out of obligation or as a formality.”

My stomach fluttered at the thought that we might pull it off. “I’m sure this isn’t the end. We’re going to need to clear ourselves, and they’re not going to take ‘We were all at home alone together’ for an answer on every night.”

Morgan gave a crooked smile. “I’ve got that. I’ll fudge the books at the coffee shop and say you were there with me. But they seemed less worried about the robberies as they were about the business side.”

Cher picked up her beer. “Yeah, well, laundering money is a federal offense, aside from the whole grand larceny thing, and they’ve been pumping money through that business for years. Who even knows how much. Feds don’t fuck around when it comes to money laundering.”

“I’ll say it again,” Morgan chimed. “Staying out of that shit is the smartest thing we ever did.”

“Hear, hear.” Cher raised her bottle and took a swig.

Erin smiled at me. “I think we might be off the hook.”

I tapped the neck of my bottle with hers. “I think you might be right.”

I SAT ON THE bare floor of Jill’s empty room, pulling packing tape off the roll with a rip. There were just a couple of boxes left, and I stretched the tape over the seam of the last box, ready to get the fuck out of there.

Erin walked in and grabbed one of the two boxes. “Is this it?”

I ran a hand over the tape. “Yup.”

Jill walked in behind her and looked around her room, and Erin nodded once at me before leaving us alone.
 

I picked myself up and looked her over. “Are you ready?”

She sighed, turning just a bit to look toward her window. “Yes. No. I think so. It’s so weird to see it empty like this.”

“I know.” We had taken everything, mattress, dresser, desk, bookshelves. It was all mine, anyway. They hadn’t bought her anything in years. “Need a minute?”

She gave me a small smile. “No. Let’s go.”

I smiled back and picked up the final box, leading us out of her room for the very last time.

What I found in the doorway to the apartment shouldn’t have surprised me. It shouldn’t have shocked me or upset me. But it did.

My mother stood still and quiet in the threshold of the open door, purse hanging on her arm, face colored with disdain and annoyance.

I stopped, but only because she blocked my path.

She shifted, hung a hand on her hip and addressed Jill. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Jill’s coming with me.”

“Oh, is she?” She raised an eyebrow at me.

Anger rolled through me at the thought that she might try to stop me. “Don’t act like you give a fuck.”

Her voice dialed a little lower. “Don’t talk to me that way, Corrine. I’m still your mother.”

The laugh that burst out of me was bitter and cold. “The fuck you are.”

Her teeth clenched before she spoke. “You have no idea the sacrifice involved in having children.”

I sucked in a breath. “Don’t you dare talk to me about sacrifice.”

“Oh, don’t act like you understand,” she said with the shake of her head. “Is it hard running around all over the city and riding your bike for a living? You don’t have any responsibility. You don’t have people who are constantly in your way,
needing
things, demanding your attention until you’ve given so much of yourself that you don’t recognize yourself anymore.”

“When did you
ever
give
anything
to us besides grief? It’s not our fault that we exist. It’s yours. You don’t want us, so we’re leaving. I don’t understand what the fucking problem is here? You can’t decide you care now, after all these years. I’m not hearing that.”

“You have no idea. You’re just some asshole that thinks you have everything figured out, but you don’t know anything.”

“Don’t pretend that you know me. I thought we gave up that pretense years ago.”

“Whatever, Corrine. Get out.” She rolled her eyes as she moved out of the doorway and set her purse down on the coffee table. “Take Jillian. I honestly couldn’t care less. I’m done with the two of you.”

Jilly sniffled behind me, and I looked back to find her face bent, tears rolling down her cheeks. I dropped the box and followed Mom through the room, stopping outside of the kitchen as she walked in and leaned against the counter with her back to me.
 

“Goddammit, don’t you care about anyone? Anything?” I screamed, willing her to turn around and face me. “What is so broken in you that you can’t give a fuck about anybody but yourself? How could you be so fucked up as to reject your own children? It’s all we ever wanted. To be loved. For
someone
to give a fuck, because you and Dad sure as hell never did.”