40 – Warmth

  Addie looked at Tony for several long seconds. Was he serious? Could she ask him anything? She didn’t want to send him into a moody sulk, as often happened when she brought up his life before the Blast, but if she were going to work with him, really work with him, she wanted to know what she was getting into. “Tell me about what you did before. What was your job like back in ’Hattan?”

  He leaned back, idly shifting his beer around on the table with his mechanical hand. “I was an operator, but I had one client—Cross Corporation. I mean, it didn’t start out that way, but when my friend Eric and I completed a couple of high-profile jobs for them, they started hiring us more and more, and then, before I knew it, I was signing an exclusivity contract will all kinds of language I didn’t bother spending much time examining. I trusted Eric, you see?”

  “You’ve mentioned Eric a couple of times. Was he an operator, too?”

  Tony shook his head. “Nah, he was more like my fixer. He found me jobs. We’ve known each other since we were teens. He was always on the lookout for the next score, getting cozy with other fixers, banger shot-callers, and even corpo execs in our hood.”

  Addie tapped her nail on the table. She’d taken a few minutes to polish them—why, though? Was she trying to impress Tony? Why’d she change her clothes? He was wearing a frayed T-shirt and the same jeans he’d had on earlier. When he’d complimented her sweater, she almost thought he was teasing. He wasn’t, though, was he? “Um, wait, so you did all the work?”

  “Not all of it. Eric did the negotiating. He was the one who found us work. Back then, I didn’t have a clue how that stuff worked.” Tony shrugged, sipping his beer.

  “I hope he didn’t get as big a cut as—”

  Tony chuckled. “He did. Fifty-fifty all the way.” When Addie gawped at him, he snorted. “What do you want? We were buddies, and I was good at the shit he signed me up for. I loved it. Hell, I would’ve done it for a smaller cut.”

  “So you’re not cash-motivated.” Addie smirked. “Noted.” He didn’t respond other than to drain his beer and get up to get another. Addie’s was still more than half full, but when he returned, he put another one in front of her anyway. “So, you signed your life away with Cross? Was it just because Eric thought they had good work for you, or was there something more?”

  “Eh, back then, we were always dealing with a VP named Jennifer Stavros. I was kind of oblivious, but I’m sure Eric knew she was the chairman’s daughter. So, we got cozy with her—she wined and dined us after a couple of big successes, and it just seemed…right, I guess. No—” He shook his head, his brows drawing down. “—not right, easy.”

  Addie felt like she was treading toward sensitive ground, so she backed off a little. “When you say ‘successes,’ what do you mean? What kinds of things did you do for them?”

  “In the early days? My first really big score for Cross was when I broke into a Liquid Tech R&D facility and stole some prototypes—something to do with needleless auto-injectors. I’m sure you’ve seen ’em. They’re all over the place now. Cross made a killing.”

  “Seriously? We’re talking about that Cross? Holy smokes, Tony! They’re a megacorp!”

  Tony’s voice rose an octave in mock indignation. “Well, yeah; you think I’d just be throwing around their name if I didn’t expect people to know who I was talking about?”

  “I guess I just never connected the dots. They’re not a household name, you know? Don’t they mostly make pharmaceuticals?”

  He nodded. “Mostly, but they’ve got tons of patents for medical and military equipment, too.”

  Addie sipped her beer; it was too easy to drink. It wasn’t bitter as she’d come to expect beer to taste, and she liked it, though the buzz she had going was making her hungry. She glanced at her FastFood app and saw their pho would arrive in two minutes. “Do we have to go downstairs to open the door? Food’s almost here.”

  “Um, I think I can set it up so Nora can unlock it from here, but I’ll go grab it—don’t wanna mess with all that right now.”

  Addie smiled and tilted her head forward a little, agreeing, and Tony stood up and walked out. He moved like a big cat, even after drinking most of three beers. She hardly heard his footsteps, and somehow, he pulled the door open and closed without making any noise. While he was downstairs, she used the bathroom and checked her face in the mirror. Some weird compulsion made her reapply her lip gloss, and after pursing her lips in the mirror and snorting at her silliness, she returned to the kitchen and got herself another beer—there were plenty.

  She knew Tony was on the way back before the door opened—her FastFood app had dinged and flashed green, indicating the food was delivered, complete with a picture of Tony standing in the doorway of the flower shop. “Smells good,” he announced as he came back in, arms full. “No bowls, so we gotta eat out of the containers. At least they gave us chopsticks.”

  “It’s fine. My dad has some kitchen stuff for sale, I think. We can check it out tomorrow.”

  Tony went over to the table and set the sacks down, then moved the two guns sitting there to the kitchen counter. “You need a beer?”

  “I got one!” Addie giggled. She could feel the heat on her cheeks, and her nose was getting a little numb. She really didn’t drink very often. While Tony got himself another, she untied the bags and set out the two quart-sized styrofoam containers. There was a paper sack filled with basil, beansprouts, lime wedges, sliced peppers, a few packets of hot sauce, fish sauce, and plum sauce, too. She piled the garnishes at the center of the table and then opened her container, inhaling the rich aroma. “Gosh, this smells so good!”

  “Told you.” Tony sat down and proceeded to add stuff to his soup, including several jalape?os and a packet of pepper paste.

  “You like it spicy, huh?”

  He arched an eyebrow. “You don’t?”

  “Yeah, but not that much!” Addie ripped some basil leaves off the stem and added them to her pho, letting them steep a little. While Tony dug into his food, she sipped her beer and asked, “I think I remember you calling yourself a ‘solo.’ What’s that about?”

  Tony scooped up a mouthful of rice noodles, slurped them into his mouth, chewed, swallowed, and said, “I did jobs alone most of the time. If I needed someone with a specialty, like a netjacker, I’d hire them on as a sub.”

  “Did Eric help with that?”

  “Yep.”

  “So, if you and I work together, who will be our ‘fixer?’ Do we need one?”

  “Getting started, we don’t have to. We could take jobs off the local SOA boards. I mean, we could, but I’d prefer to work with a fixer. If we can’t get one to see us right away, we can try to introduce ourselves to some local ones after we build up a little rep.”

  Addie squeezed lime into her pho, then placed a couple of jalapeno slices into it, stirring them with her chopsticks. She watched Tony take another bite, smiling at his enthusiasm, then scooped up her first bite, slurping just as noisily as Tony. “Oh, that’s so good!”

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “Yep. We’ll be ordering from these guys again.”

  “I like how you do that, Tony.”

  “What?” he asked around another mouthful.

  “You talk about the future, and you include me. Like, ‘We could take jobs,’ and ‘We’ll be ordering from these guys again.’ You do it all the time. It’s nice.” Addie felt the heat on her cheeks intensify, and she looked down, stirring her soup.

  “Yeah, well, it’s a long-term plan, and even if we weren’t working together, you’re my friend, right? I, uh, don’t have many of those.”

  “Which brings me to another topic I wanted to discuss with you.” Addie looked up, trying to gauge his temper, but he seemed perfectly fine, his eyes half-closed as he savored his pho. “If I push too hard, just say so, okay?”

  “All right.”

  “So, like, you talk about building rep and progressing to harder jobs and stuff, but… Are you really going to stick around?” Addie looked down, staring into her pho, refusing to give in to her impulse to take the question back. She had to know what his intentions were.

  “Are you asking if I’m going to bail and try to get back to my old life?”

  “Well”—Addie stirred her soup, gathering another bite in her chopsticks—“that wasn’t my primary concern. It was more along the lines of…” She hesitated, looking up at him, trying to gauge if he was getting irritated. He looked open to her question. “I was more wondering if you were going to build up enough bits and equipment to go after the people who dumped you down here.” She stuffed a big bite into her mouth, slurping and chewing through the long noodles. The broth was very rich, and the chunks of meat—they called it “beef,” but who knew what it really was—were delicious and chewy.

  “Ah.” Tony set his chopsticks in his bowl and leaned back, stretching. It seemed like his shoulder wasn’t bothering him much. “Like, what if we build up a decent little business, get some rep, make some contacts, and then I go and get myself iced trying to off my former best friend and a backstabbing ex?” He snorted, shaking his head. “I’m not delusional. I won’t be ready to do anything against those guys for a long time. I’ll make you this promise right now: if I ever feel like I’ve got to do something—make a move—I’ll talk to you first.”

  Addie watched him while he spoke. He met her eyes, and he seemed so sincere. Was it wrong of her to ask him not to want revenge? She could quote famous philosophers and religious teachings about the subject. She could talk about how it probably wouldn’t make him feel any better, but even she knew the hot desire to get back at someone, and she’d never been wronged, not personally, the way he had. He was human and a man who fought and killed for a living. She had no business telling him otherwise. They weren’t that close—not yet. “Promise?”

  “I said so, didn’t I?” He reached across the table, palm up, and Addie put her hand in his. He squeezed lightly. “I promise.”

  “Okay.” Addie smiled and, with her free hand, took a drink of her beer. Before she could consider the words or how they might affect him, she asked, “Did you say your ex? You were together with Jen?”

  Tony’s silver eye seemed to dim toward steel gray as he nodded, clenching his jaw. “I broke things off with her a while back when I met someone else.” He let go of her hand and stood up, his chair legs grinding on the old hardwoods. “Got hot in here, didn’t it?” He walked over to the narrow sliding door and fussed with the lock for a few seconds, and then, haltingly and with many squeaks and grinds, he pulled it open. All the while, Addie’s mind raced, wondering if she’d gone too far—if she’d upset him.

  “Hey,” he said, sticking his head out, “some clouds rolled in. It’s not so cold.” He returned to the table and grabbed his pho in one hand, his chair in the other. “Let's sit outside for a few.”

  “Oh, okay.” Addie stood up, pulling her sweater cuffs lower on her arms. It was true; she’d gotten plenty warm, eating hot soup and drinking beer in the stuffy apartment. She wondered if the climate regulator wasn’t working or if the place even had one. She’d just picked up her soup when Tony came back to grab her chair for her.

  “C’mon, you’ll be surprised how warm it is. I bet snow’s coming.”

  Addie followed him out, and sure enough, things had warmed up. That’s how it was in the Blast, though. Clouds were like a blanket, holding in the heat of the city and Dust. “I mean, it feels good because you’re right; the apartment was getting stuffy, but it’s not exactly warm.” She sat down, and Tony chuckled, going back inside. Addie held her soup container to her chin and scooped a bite into her mouth. By the time she’d swallowed, Tony was back with a light yellow jacket.

  “Put this on. I haven’t even worn it yet. Got it after the gym the other day.”

  “You like Salvage Styles, don’t you?” Addie grinned at him as she took the coat.

  He nodded. “Yeah, they have new stuff every damn day. Here”—he took her soup—“I’ll hold this while you put it on.”

  Addie smiled, stuffing her arms into the soft, well-worn jacket. She was practically swimming in it, but she pushed the sleeves up so they bunched around her elbows, then sat down, folding it closed. “Much better!”

  Tony smiled, handing her back her soup, then he picked his up off his chair and leaned against the short concrete balcony, seemingly perfectly comfortable in his thin, thread-bare T-shirt. His eyes, one glowing softly with orange light, turned toward the street, and he watched the traffic while he ate. He seemed perfectly content to eat in silence, so Addie finished her noodles and sipped her broth, enjoying the warm, savory liquid even more in the chilly air.

  After a while, Tony put his container down and turned toward her. “Was there anything else you wanted to know? I get it; I was kind of vague about Eric and Jen and…what they did to me. It’s more than just dumping me down here, Ads. They took everything from me, and I’m just not ready to talk about all that yet. I’ll just say it was more than just…things they took. If you wanna know why—why they would do something like that—I can’t really tell you. I didn’t do anything to deserve it. I wanted to get out. I wanted to leave with—” He cleared his throat and turned, avoiding her eyes.

  Addie stood up and moved closer to him, putting a hand, warm from her soup container, on his arm. “It’s okay, Tony. You’ve said enough. If that was all you wanted—to get away from them—how can I find fault with that?”

  He sniffed and nodded, still looking out toward the street. “Thanks, Ads.”

  “Wanna go down to the SOA office tomorrow and file our applications?”

  Tony cleared his throat again, then turned to her, and whatever emotion he’d been hiding was gone. He wore a smile again, and he nodded. “Hell yeah, I do.”

  “Listen, Tony. I promised my dad I’d spend a little time with him. I guess he was pretty worried while we were gone. You care if I call it a night? That beer’s hitting me pretty hard, anyway.” Addie wanted to punch herself the minute she said all that. Really? Going home early to spend time with her dad? What would he think?

  “Yeah. Sure. You’re lucky to have him.” He turned to pick up his soup container and walked back inside. “Hah. Just realized I don’t have a compactor or recycler. Gonna have to do some serious shopping.”

  Addie followed him in. “Now that sounds fun! Can I come with? We’ll find all the best deals in the Blast.”

  Tony sniffed, his nose probably runny from the hot soup or the cold air outside. “You’re damn right you’re coming.” He nodded toward the little kitchen. “Want a beer for the road?”

  Addie laughed, setting her soup container on the table. “You’re terrible. I’m half-drunk already.”

  “Half? Where’s the fun in that?” As if to illustrate, Tony squeezed the dregs of his beer into his mouth, then started for the fridge. “You sure? I’m getting one.”

  “I’m sure!” Addie went to the door and pulled it open. “Do you need to let me out?”

  “Yeah, I guess so. I gotta get Nora hooked up to this stuff.” Beer in hand, he followed her down to the front door, tapping his card to the reader so it beeped and opened. “Watch out for cars when you cross the street. I’ll be watching to make sure you get home safe.” He jerked his head toward the stairs, and Addie figured he meant he was going back to the balcony.

  “You’re ridiculous. It’s about a one-minute walk.”

  He shrugged, leaning into the door, holding it for her. He looked so damn good to her in that minute—hair mussed just right, shirt clinging to his absurdly hard chest muscles, face pleasant, and expression unusually open. She wanted to hug him—at least—but she also didn’t want to push things. She still couldn’t get a read on how he felt about her. So, as usual, she chickened out and waved stupidly, stepping outside. “See you in the morning, then?”

  He nodded, grinning crookedly. “It’s a date. Let’s get breakfast.”

  Of course, the words sent a wave of warmth from the center of Addie’s stomach up through her heart and into her cheeks. She smiled brightly and nodded. “Sounds great.” With those eloquent, poem-worthy words, she turned and walked up the sidewalk. She heard the door close but didn’t look back. How needy would that seem? Still, the smile on her lips threatened to stretch all the way to her ears as she strolled toward home. Halfway there, she realized she still had Tony’s jacket on. Naturally, her smile spread further, and she giggled softly to release some of her pent-up good feelings.

  She looked left and right, didn’t see any headlights coming her way, and started across the street. She was halfway to the far sidewalk when she heard—so out of place that she thought she might be hallucinating—Tony yell, “Addie! Look out!”

  She whirled toward the shouted warning just in time to see a dark van with no lights screech to a stop. Doors flew open, and men in blue jumpers, like mechanics wear, swarmed out—three of them. By then, Addie’s mind had caught up with the incongruous scene, and she yelped. She actually yelped! She didn’t have time to confront the embarrassment of that fact as she turned and tried to run toward home.

  She took one step before a pop sounded. She felt a sting in her back, and then her body locked up as a shock ran through her. Her vision tunneled as gravity pulled her down, but rough hands grabbed her, halting her mid-fall. Someone stuffed a hood over her head, and the last thing she heard before something hissed near her neck, stabbing into her flesh, was a gruff voice saying, “Hurry up, put the jammer on her.”