Exposed (6 page)

That night I stealthily made the rounds of the warehouse’s sleeping quarters and talked to those I knew had their doubts about Diesel or had been on the wrong side of his temper before, enlisting their help. My plan was simple. They’d stage a revolt—attack Thing 1 and Thing 2 and cause a mess for Diesel to deal with—and I’d use the opportunity to break into his office. I didn’t get into the specifics of what I would be doing once inside, but I told them the truth.

If they kept the office clear for at least ten minutes, I could put an end to Diesel, and no one in the warehouse
would have to suffer under his rule. Not ever again.

Of course, that meant the warehouse would be fodder for the cops.

We’d lose our home. The protection Diesel’s name provided. The jobs that kept us fed. We were giving up everything to take back our freedom. Some of the kids would just end up back in another car-theft ring, or worse. But some would seize the moment and try to turn their lives around.

Diesel had been a generous leader once. Everyone agreed it wasn’t safe working under him any longer. He was a danger to anyone he recruited. If we could take him down, maybe our sacrifices would save the life of some unknown kid like Supersize.

By morning, the plan was set.

I sat on my cot, bleary-eyed. My stomach churned. This was the day that would either make me or break me.

I grabbed my cell. Called Jo.

“It’s six in the morning,” she groaned.

“And you’ve been sleeping on my houseboat for free. Did you water Charlie?”

“Yes, I watered your plant. Although I’m pretty sure it’s just a dandelion.”

“It’s a begonia, and don’t you dare kill it.” I paused, swiped a hand down my face. She didn’t say anything. “You still there?”

“Yeah, what do you want?”

“Look, I called to ask you…” My vision blurred. I cleared my throat. “I need to call in that favor.”

A rustle of movement. “Now?”

“Well, not now, but tonight. Is that a problem?”

“No. I mean, I never thought you’d actually admit you needed—I mean, for sure. I’m there. How can I help?”

I was used to doing things for other people. Now I was putting my faith in Jo, Jace and Bentley to the test. Had they only been using me? Or were we really a team?

I guessed I was about to find out.

“Diesel, my boss, put the warehouse on lockdown.” I filled Jo in on the details. “I’ve gotten everyone on board. They’ll do their part. I need you to go to my school, Laurier Secondary, and talk to a guy for me. I don’t have his number, and this isn’t something I can ask him over the phone.”

“A gu-uy,” Jo echoed, dragging the word out so it had at least three syllables. “Just a guy, or is he
your
guy?”

I let out a groan. “He’s just a guy, okay? I need you to ask him if he’ll do one thing for me. I need his father to be here at the warehouse tonight. At 9:00
PM
sharp. Emmett is absolutely not to come on his own. Just his father. Tell him it’s about the note he gave me. It’s my reply. He’ll understand.”

“You want his father there? Not him? I don’t get it.”

“His dad’s a cop.”

“No.” Jo’s voice hardened. “Ask Jace.”

I sighed. “I’m asking Jace and Bentley for a little help in another department
more worthy of their skills. Besides, I can’t send Jace to ask Emmett to help me—that will just set him off.” It would play out way better if a girl did the asking, and when Jo wanted to, she had enough charm to mesmerize a shark. She’d caught Jace’s eye, hadn’t she?

“Ah, you mean Jace would make him jealous. So he
is
yours.”

“Jo, can you do this for me or not? I know you have issues with cops. So do I. But I had some friends look into Emmett’s dad, and if I’m going to trust a uniform…he’s the best bet.” That was true. Out of curiosity, I’d done a little digging, and there was nothing to suggest Emmett’s dad was sketchy in any way. In fact, the word around school was he’d declined a promotion and a pay raise just so Emmett wouldn’t have to change schools during his senior year. Hardly the
MO
of a cop on the take.

Finally, after much coaxing, Jo agreed. I told her which classes Emmett had,
sad that I knew his schedule as well as my own. I was going to call Jace next, but a knock at my door had me stowing my cell phone under my pillow. I dove back under my scratchy woolen blanket.

“Yeah, I’m up,” I called out, adding a sleepy tone to my voice.

Diesel entered, alone for once.

While I wouldn’t have felt any safer if he’d come in with Thing 1 and Thing 2 behind him, it did make me question why he’d decided to seek me out in my room.

I sat up, pulling the blanket tight to my chest, wishing I’d worn more than a tank top and shorts to bed. A jolt of fear stabbed up my spine. My heart pounded like a jackhammer. Diesel never came near the sleeping quarters. And now he sat at the end of my cot.

Rested a heavy hand on my feet under the blanket.

Stared at me with assessing eyes, as if he wondered how far he could go before I’d snap.

I’d been scared by Diesel before. By his anger. His mood swings and snap judgments. His faulty decision making.

But never like this.

“Happy birthday, Raven,” he said, shattering the silence that had gone on too long and been full of weirdness. He snapped his wrist, causing me to flinch, but I recovered in time to see that he’d tossed me something.

I grabbed it, turning the present over in my hands.

“Open it.” Something in his voice had the hair at the back of my neck standing on end. I lifted the lid of a small, plainly wrapped box about two inches wide and three inches deep. I gasped as I removed a delicate glass object from the tissue paper inside.

Light glittered on the intricate twists and details of a black raven trapped within a golden birdcage.

A symbol of my captivity. But cages begged to be busted wide open. Funny how
Diesel intended to threaten me with his little gift, but he’d only strengthened my resolve. He should know symbols meant different things to different people.

I thought of Bentley’s tattoo. To him, I was sure it represented more than his love of computers. It probably symbolized hope or that life was one endless stream of possibilities. Sure, that worked on a certain level. But to me those seamlessly linked loops meant something entirely different—what goes around, comes around. My fist clenched around the caged bird in my hand.

When I looked up, Diesel was gone.

I knew he’d sent Supersize after the impossible. He knew my untried apprentice wouldn’t make the climb to the top of the parkade. He’d counted on it. Supersize had died because Diesel wasn’t
ever
going to let me go.

At 8:50
PM
on my sixteenth birthday, all hell broke loose. Kids stormed the lower level of the warehouse and began smashing car parts and releasing engine hoists, cheering when the heavy machinery smashed to the concrete floor. Thing 1 and Thing 2 split up to try to break the kids into smaller groups, only to find themselves ducking from wrenches, power tools, spark plugs—anything that could be launched in their direction.

While they struggled against an angry mob of close to twenty teens, I crept up to Diesel’s office. Diesel was gone and missing all the action. Another late-night
meeting with the people who pulled his strings. Disappointment gnawed at me, but it was now or never. Diesel might not be on the grounds when Emmett’s dad arrived, but this was a chance I had to take.

Maybe they’d be able to track him down. Maybe, but I doubted it.

Still, he’d never be able to return to
this
warehouse, or screw up the lives of
these
kids, and that had to count for something.

Footsteps pounded up the stairs. Too heavy to be one of the kids. Had to be one of the goons.

A few quick steps and I hid in the closet to the left of and slightly behind Diesel’s desk. The office door creaked open. Footsteps approached. Slow and steady, circling the room. Whoever it was, he wasn’t here to hide. He was looking for someone.

“Raven?” a low voice whispered.

He was looking for me.

Carefully I shifted to the far corner of the closet. I reached both hands out at shoulder height and hopped off the ground. Then, with my hands and feet braced against the wall, I began to climb, ninja style. Soon I was suspended about four feet high, clinging to the walls to keep myself aloft.

When the closet door burst open, I was not in plain view. A man’s arm reached in, riffled through some of Diesel’s shirts and suit coats. Then the closet door slammed shut. My upper arms and quads trembled with the strain. It got harder to control my breathing.

After a long moment of silence, the footsteps retreated. The office door creaked shut. I waited a full minute more, just to be safe, then dropped to the floor with a groan. I exited the closet—and came to a complete stop.

Link stood in front of me, his arms folded across his chest.

“I knew you’d be in here.” He gestured to the destruction unfolding in the bay below. “This wasn’t what I had in mind when I spoke with you yesterday.”

“No, I suppose not.” I walked to the desk, fighting the urge to ask Link for his help. I knew he had a soft spot for me…but then, I’d thought the same thing about Diesel. None of them could be trusted.

I turned on Diesel’s laptop and inserted a
USB
drive. “But you won’t stop me, because you know Diesel’s out of control. He had Supersize killed, Link. You know why, don’t you?”

The burly man looked away.

“It was the same with Kat, wasn’t it?” A flash of inspiration. I knew I was onto something. “She was a few months from her birthday too. We’re the first to age out in, like, forever. She didn’t screw up that night.” I let out a breath. “She let herself get caught. Prison was better than whatever Diesel had planned.” I slammed my fist on the desk.
“Where did they go, Link? The other girls who aged out. The ones who got away.”

“You don’t want to know,” Link said.

“Are you sure? If this coup of mine doesn’t go as planned, I think I just might be staring down the very same barrel.”

Link shook his head. “You know Diesel hates the idea of kids selling themselves on the streets. He takes them in, saves them from all that.”

I nodded.

“But once they’re legal, keeping them here isn’t worth the hassle. A kid can’t be charged, but once they reach sixteen, it’s all over. The smart ones, the really pretty ones like you and Kat, he saves for something special. He passes them along to a buddy of his who runs an escort service. Top-of-the-line clientele. You wouldn’t believe who he gets…”

“Escorts.” A sour taste filled my mouth. “You mean prostitution. He sells us out.”

Link stared at the floor.

“Leave while you can,” I said. “The cops will be all over this place in about”—I glanced at the clock on Diesel’s laptop—“seven minutes.”

Link backed away, into the hall. He met my gaze then, finally. Regret pulled his mouth into a tight line. Then he charged for the stairs.

I called Jace.

“What took you so long?” He wasn’t one for small talk.

“I got a little held up. But we’re good to go. The
USB
drive is in place.”

“Good. We need a physical backup in case there’s a cutout during the transfer.” Jace must have pulled the phone away from his ear, because things got muddy, but I heard Bentley rattling off instructions in the background, which Jace repeated to me. “Go online and enter this
URL
…” It took two tries before I was able to get the address right. My fingers refused to work right, and I was a horrible two-finger
typist at the best of times. “Okay, enter this user name and password…”

I did as instructed. And presto, Bentley had full access to Diesel’s laptop.

I watched as the laptop seemingly took on a life of its own. Documents opened and closed, and folders were both uploaded and saved to the
USB
drive. Every dirty deal Diesel had ever made.

It was done.

Now all I had to do was get out of the warehouse.

From my perch on the window ledge outside Diesel’s office I had a clear view of kids running out the side exit. That had been one of my conditions when I proposed this crazy plan. They were to cause a freaking riot, do as much damage as they wanted, leave Diesel’s goons incapacitated but relatively unharmed, then get out by nine.

I scaled the wall to the roof and ran toward the wing of the warehouse that backed onto the alley where I’d had Jace leave one of his cars for me to make a quick exit.

Not the ’30s Ford Coupe, though I’d asked for it. Repeatedly.

Throwing a leg over the ledge, I quickly climbed down to the alley.

Headlights snapped on, freezing me in place. I held up a hand to block the light. Doors opened, and two dark silhouettes approached.

“Raven, my dear,” came Diesel’s voice from the left. Controlled. No, enraged. “I suspected I’d find you back here. Running away, are we?”

A hand snatched my arm in a fierce grip. Not Diesel’s. Wheels’s. Diesel had always said Wheels did “odd jobs as required.” I had always wondered what that had entailed.

“Don’t you wish you really could fly now, little bird?” Wheels pulled me to his side, his hands groping and searching my flesh, checking me for a weapon. He neglected to check the boot where I stashed my pocketknife. That would
be my last resort if Emmett’s dad didn’t get here soon. Where was he? It had to be past 9:00
PM
. What if Jo had bailed on me? Hadn’t even asked Emmett? I clenched my fist around the
USB
drive, my blood pumping from adrenaline and sheer terror.

“She’s clean.” Wheels threw me at Diesel, but my mentor, the man who’d practically been a father to me, didn’t catch me.

He sidestepped, watching as my off-balance momentum drove me to the ground. My fingers spread wide, breaking my fall. Palms smashed into the concrete, the impact making me cry out. I lay there, stunned.

Diesel’s polished black shoes came into view. As did the
USB
drive I’d dropped. He scooped it up from the ground. “Well, what do we have here?”

“Exactly what I was thinking,” a man’s voice said over a squawking
PA
system.
Another set of headlights snapped on, as did a swirling set of police lights.

“What the hell?” Diesel spun to face the officer, his face paling as he took in the two other cruisers pulling up.

I scrambled to my feet and ran. I reached Jace’s car in record time, fired up the engine and shot out of sight. I drove about six blocks before I realized no one was following me. The cops had let me go. They had much bigger fish to fry.

I was free.