A Penny's Worth (The Cephas Bourdon Series) (28 page)

The silence was eerie: all of the men in suits stood around the room without speaking. Dominic sat perfectly still, his eyes immovable; apparently he was immune to blinking. He stared at Cephas, watching him intently. Dominic’s suit pants hung two inches above his shoes in his current sitting position
—
even his socks were black. His hands rested on the overstuffed arms of the sofa. He looked ready to jump up and shoot somebody. Perhaps he
was
planning to shoot someone.

I glanced at the computer. Cephas typed a password into the small rectangle and then moved his eye carefully in front of the screen. He pushed the enter key and waited patiently. I jolted, startled as a green line scanned the length of the small screen. Cephas held perfectly still until the laser reached the bottom of the screen, blinking and beeping simultaneously. A tiny circle spun across the main computer screen, changing colors rapidly. Stupid circle. After a moment, red lettering popped up on the screen. 'Incorrect match,' it read. Dominic stood abruptly from his chair.

“What's going on?” he demanded. Cephas looked in between the screen and Dominic, searching frantically through the scraps of paper in his hand.

“I don't
—
I don't know, s
ir,” he started.

“You don't know!” Dominic demanded. “My game is in three hours and you don't know! I should have killed you,” he yelled, pulling the gun from his side. Cephas stood, pushing the chair out behind him. He put his hands up in the air.

“Listen, Dominic,
you don't need to do this. We'll figure it out.” His face was distressed and his eyes turned jet black, his pupils erasing the color. I had never seen Cephas manifest fear until now. His voice was trembling. He didn't show any fear when ten guns were on him earlier. Why was he scared now?

Dominic didn't reply, just pulled back the hammer on his gun. The clicking noise was horrible, like the confirmation of certain death. I looked away from Dominic. His face was far too detestable to look upon. It was an attractive face, but his countenance destroyed the pleasing nature it could have otherwise produced. I focused on a knot in the desk while
Cephas’
life hung in the air. He didn't speak, just stood still, awaiting Dominic's decision.
Cephas’
scraps of paper lay chaotically on the table. Underneath the scrap with directions for the command prompt lay the poem from
Cephas’
parents. Not all of it was showing, but the last four lines peaked up at me, mocking my idiotic suggestion.

'Mercy's eye forsakes the wall, Light bids the rock fall
—
' Light . . . light. My eyes widened and I could feel the adrenaline begin to pump through my veins. Without considering the consequences, I stood from my chair and turned toward Dominic. Cephas glanced down at me, eyebrows raised.

“I've got it!” I exclaimed.

“What are you doing?” Cephas muttered. His voice was trembling again and he sounded worried. Dominic took a step forward
,
his gun now pointed at me. I took a slight step toward Dominic, determined to make him listen. I lifted my eyebrows, daring him to stop me. I liked it when gumption replaced my otherwise childish emotions: I felt invincible! A smile crept across Dominic’s face, the smile that reminded me of the devil.

“You seem quite confident in yourself, girl. Not even the noble and oh so gallant Cephas will speak when I've a gun pointed at his head.”

“Probably because he knows you'll pull the trigger,” I retorted, sounding more confident than I felt.

“And you?” he asked, his smile widening.

“I figure if you don't pull it now, you'll pull it later, so I'll just try to be as helpful as I can until then.” I concluded with a smile, though I meant it with more sass than affability.

“I like you more and more,” he replied. “I can see why Cephas had a hard time keeping himself off of you,” he said, all intended wickedness revealing itself. I saw my dad flinch, anger seething across his brow. He was smart, though, and maintained his composure for both our sakes.

“Oh, I do apologize, Mr. Brickard. Does that anger you?”

“Do you want to know how to get into the machine or not?” I interrupted.

“If it's not too much trouble,” he said, feigned courtesy lacing his deep voice.

“Well, then, if you would kindly lower your gun,” I demanded. I felt my hands on my hips
—
they had gone there subconsciously. Dominic cocked his head and shrugged his shoulders casually
. H
e lowered the gun to his side.

“Does anyone have a flashlight?” I asked hurriedly. Cephas reached over to the drawer beside him and rummaged through it. He shook his head.

“Nothing here.”

One of the agents tossed a flashlight in my direction: it was the doorman. I guess he did do something other than open the door. I caught the flashlight and pushed the small black button.

“When you shine light on a pupil, it gets really small, revealing nearly the entire Iris.”

“What's that?” somebody piped up from across the room. I looked over to see a rather large, muscular agent clearing his throat. His suit stretched across his broad shoulders, which spread about a foot above all of the other agents. Dark, curly hair complimented his deep brown skin. The other agents looked at him in surprise.

“They didn't hire me for my brain,” he mumbled, attempting to excuse his question. I glimpsed a smirk on
Cephas’
face.

“It's uh
—
the colored part of the eye,” I replied awkwardly, unsure if I was supposed to respond. I turned my attention to the machine.

“Cephas, sit at the computer again, and type in the password. He lowered his surrendering hands and moved slowly to the computer, eying me suspiciously the entire time. I rolled my eyes and came around the front of the desk. Cephas quickly typed in the password, then looked up expectantly. I leaned down, level with Cephas face. Lifting the flashlight, I shined the bulb directly into
Cephas’
eye. He blinked rapidly at first, then moved his finger to hold open his eye. I waited a few seconds, watching his pupil turn from a black hole to a speck of dust. The blue in his eyes became azure, a twisting whirlpool of cobalt and beryl. I cocked my head to the side, intrigued at the way the color swirled
. I
t was as if I wasn't really looking at an eye, but into a magical world. I instantly shook the whimsical childishness from my head.

“Push enter,” I commanded, continuing to hold the light on
Cephas’
eye. The green strip of light inched across the screen again, carefully searching for any detection of inaccurate data. It felt like an eternity; a pain began to travel up my arm as the blood refused to flow upward any longer. My hand shook a little and I steadied it with my other hand. If this didn't work, Dominic was going to freak out. A beeping noise sounded that the scanning was finished. After the screen blinked a moment, the computer made an unlocking noise, and a green light flicked on.

“It worked!” Cephas exclaimed. Dominic walked briskly over to the desk, intent on seeing for himself. His eyes wide with surprise, he looked toward the middle of the room.

“Very well, then. Cephas, take your men to the other room. I'll let you know if we have any trouble.” Cephas stood casually and meandered toward the door, hands stuffed in his pockets. He paused as the doorman pushed down on the brass handle and gallantly opened the door. The left corner of
Cephas’
mouth twitched upward. He faced the front and walked out, half of the agents following after him. I tried to speak, but no words would come out. I couldn't believe he was just leaving! After I had helped him break into the machine, he was just leaving! He really
had
used me
—
a
gain. I had told myself not to let my heart get involved, but I didn’t listen. I didn’t know what I was thinking
—
I guess I thought if I was worth something to Cephas, he would love me for real this time. How could I be so wrong about a person? I was so focused on shunning my own love for Cepahs that I forgot to suppose Cephas might not love me back. The thought saddened me so much that I told myself I didn’t actually love Cephas
—
how could I after so short a time? But that was a lie. I did love him. Who was I kidding? I had felt that
. . .
something
. . .
that unexplainable feeling that I’d never experienced with anyone else. I silently hoped the feeling wasn’t real, and that I would eventually forget about the man who had purposefully stolen my heart to get ahead
. . .
and my jaw gaped open after him as the door closed with a short clicking noise.

****

“And the Sun's lead, 81
–
75,” a voice boomed through the loud speaker. Specs of purple and yellow flitted across the court below. “Denicker goes for the shot . . . it's in! That's the fourth three for Denicker this quarter.”

“Yeah, you know, last season he seemed to have trouble with . . .” the second sports announcer began. I tuned out his voice.

My eyes darted from the court, trapped by Dominic's icy gaze. What was he going to do with me? With my dad? I felt my heart rate increase. It beat rapidly and irregularly
.
I couldn't believe Cephas had left us in here
—
alone. We had been sitting here for over three hours. My mouth opened instinctively to allow my heart more oxygen. Dominic turned, hands clasped neatly behind his back. He walked casually across the room, regaining his seat on the white sofa. The contrast between the white sofa and his black suit was striking, defining every move he made.

“So Emmaline, tell me about yourself,” Dominic began.

“I like long walks on the beach and dancing in the moonlight. You?” My voice edged with hatred
.
I generally tried to find something likeable in everyone, but this man didn’t deserve even a second thought. His trademark devilish grin appeared as he casually inspected his nails.

“I can see you're not in the mood for small talk; that doesn't make you very affable, my dear,” he observed.

“Your feigned curiosity in trivial matters, however, is quite endearing,” I responded, the sarcasm thick in my voice. I habitually rolled my eyes.

“Better than no curiosity at all,” he said, now inspecting the other hand. “You don't seem to want to know anything about me
. A
re you not a curious person?”

“On the contrary,
my curiosity is always peaked,” I smiled graciously. “That's why, as you may have noticed, my vocabulary is impeccable; I was curious about the English language, so I studied the
dictionary
.”

“That sounds . . . extremely time consuming and altogether boring,” he replied, losing interest in the conversation. Good. Though Cephas had betrayed me again
—
used me again
—
I saw no other choice than to move forward with the plan Cephas had concocted. I had to get my dad’s attention without Dominic’s knowledge.

“Oh, not at all.
Everything
you could ever need to know is in the
dictionary
.” Dominic grunted, his mind already wandering to another place. I glanced over at my dad, whose eyes darted occasionally in my direction as he listened intently to the conversation. I raised my eyebrows at him, and my eyes traveled to the pocket dictionary on the desk. The scraps of paper Cephas had brought with him lay scattered next to the dictionary. My dad's eyes narrowed. Please figure it out, dad. He looked at the dictionary and sat slowly back in his seat, looking up to the ri
ght. That was his thinking face.
I'd seen it many times. Fingers grazing the papers before him, he quickly evaluated the visible information. His hand moved up to his face, pointer finger balancing on his rounded chin.

“What are you thinking about, Mr. Brickard?” Dominic piped up, looking at Dad for a moment.

“Hmm?” he muttered, not entirely leaving his thoughts. “Oh, nothing.” Dominic rolled his eyes.

“The two of you aren't very entertaining,” Dominic complained, remaining in his seat. My dad spun slightly in his chair, wiggling the mouse to turn on the computer screen. He pulled the drawer open, rummaging through it.

“What are you doing over there?” Dominic asked. His eyes narrowed, suspicion lacing his words. My dad pulled a small cloth out of the drawer.

“Just finding something to polish my glasses,” he replied, holding up the cloth. “I'm no good with smudged glasses.” He smiled innocently and pulled off his spectacles, rubbing them systematically. Holding them up to the light, he peered with bagged, squinted eyes to evaluate his work. He turned his attention back to the computer screen, setting the cloth on the desk near the keyboard and replacing his black
-
rimmed glasses. I saw his hand fidget around the back of the white keyboard as his eyes jumped around the computer screen
. H
e plugged a flash drive into the
USB
port. I breathed out a sigh of relief. His fingers slid to the keys, jumping rapidly across the buttons. Clearing his throat the way he always did when he was nervous, he went about his work. The keys titillated in the background. Dominic narrowed his eyes again.