Foxed [1st/2nd Draft]

Chapter 8: Photographs [pt. 2/2]

When I didn't answer, he continued, "I guess I should be glad she didn't go for purple."

What did these people have against purple?

He reached into his vest pocket again and gave me another photo of her. It had a little less wear and tear, but the folds were still there. This time she had black hair, styled and cropped around her chin. The strawberry colored birthmark that looked like a small butterfly under her left eye was more visible in this picture. I barely had a chance to stare at this image before Hayden offered another picture. Marion had red hair in this one. I bit my lip and glanced up at Hayden.

How many pictures did he have of her?

"How long have you been looking for her?" I asked.

The slump of his shoulders was minimal and I almost didn't notice it. The corner of his eye twitched. He licked his bottom lip before answering, "A while... even before this situation."

Longer than the measly two months I'd had to wait.

"She looks better with black hair," I said, offering a timid, reassuring smile. I reached over and patted his shoulder. "I'm sure she's fine. If she's anything like you, she probably owns the place by now."

With a raised eyebrow he glanced down at my hand. I jerked away like I'd been scalded. He's gotten to me. I'm sympathizing with him. Damn. It was that damn hair dye and those stupid worn pictures. The little details he knew about her showed his love for his sister. It made Marion real, and it made Hayden human.

"Marion's important, we don't deny that. She was the original goal, but new Intel has made her a second priority. You understand, Marks," Starling said.

All Hayden did was shift in his seat and the cold stillness in the air could freeze water. Starling looked at him apologetically.

Hayden nodded with a collected look that reminded me of a tiger ready to pounce. "Yes, the disappearing rebels and the guns, of course." He gave a half-hearted chuckle, but it didn't last long. "All the same," his serious expression landed back on me, "know every detail of what they look like. Angel may very well already have Mare with him." He turned his attention back to Starling. It was so cold I shivered. "Let's not forget, Starling, that you couldn't do this without my funding."

Starling laughed. "True, but without a front man you wouldn't be able to step foot near the prison. They know you. Everybody knows you. You're famous. The richest man on this continent! You wouldn't have made it past the front door without me."

Hayden inhaled through his nose but said nothing. I frowned as I watched his fists clench. I guess having everything had its disadvantages too.

Starling nodded, knowing he'd won that battle. "It's possible Marion and Angel are ready to get out but just haven't found a way to get in contact. There was a plan in place with another rebel for them to escape. Obviously, the plan went south when that rebel disappeared. This time, we aren't taking chances. In the bag with a devil sticker you'll find the date, the time, and the part of the prison we'll be getting you out of. Of course, it's in code. Angel can decipher it. Understand that it's going to happen whether you're there or not."

The holes in this plan would put Spenser's jeans to shame. "What if Angel is dead?" I asked. "Will I have to stay the sixth months and finish this program you've entered me in?"

Starling shrugged. "No. You have a month to find them, get more information, and steal the guns. If Angel is dead no one else can decipher the code. Your best bet is to listen for a silent explosion."

I scoffed. "A silent explosion? So basically, I'm screwed if Angel is dead."

"Yes. Here's a list of what he likes... of course, this might make him more skeptical of you. Read it with caution."

All I could do was blink as I reached for the tiny booklet of information. I expected him to throw a little pity my way but he offered none. He was all business now. I flipped through the pages that held lists of likes, dislikes, weaknesses, and strengths.

Likes blonde haired women with blue eyes.

I'm not his type. Shocker. My job just got a lot harder.

"Now, your luggage-"

I held up my free hand. "Wait, I can really have luggage? I thought –"

"Not everyone can. It just so happens that you belong to a very rich family that 'cares' for you. Magellan has given a healthy donation on your behalf because of this you'll have your basic necessities and extra care from the guards."

"Magellan? Is that Hayden?" I shot him a questioning look.

"No, but it was my money that made that donation," Hayden said dryly.

"Because you can't be tied to this due to the involvement of your little sister, ergo you need us. If the guards knew Hayden was behind this they'd probably have you killed. Magellan is my brother," Starling informed me. "He's a world renowned artist and—"

"Let me count the ways that I don't care," I grumbled and settled my hand under my chin.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Hayden smirk at my comment but Starling didn't catch the hint as he droned on. Big surprise.

It felt like only a few minutes of me sleeping that I started to be shaken awake.

"Kender, we're here."

Obviously, it had been longer than a few minutes.

The large manicured hand that clamped down on my shoulder made me jump. I jerked my forehead off the tinted window and cringed as I saw drool smeared across the glass. I wiped off the evidence of my snoozing and scrubbed at the crusting accumulation on my mouth.

I swallowed at the loud knock on the window. "Be careful," Hayden said. "I'm sorry we couldn't prepare you better."

Of all the things he should be sorry for that was it?