Finding Purgatory (3 page)

The way Ani looked down at the table reminded Tori of a sad, bad dog. She rummaged through her purse. “This is my work phone,” she said as she set a business card on the table. Without looking at Tori, she printed something else in writing. “And this is my cell. If you need anything, you can call me. The door is open.” She looked up, right into Tori’s eyes as she stood. “Really. Anything at all.”

Tori glared back at her and didn’t look at the card at all. She had the impulse to rip it to pieces, but that would have meant she had to acknowledge the thing was there in the first place.

Ani nodded. “Okay,” she said, and she walked away.

“Are you okay?” Shane asked after Ani had driven off.

“Would you quit asking me that?”

Shane didn’t answer. He stood and emptied the remains of their soda on the ground before he threw the cans in the recycle bin. “Come on, then. Let’s get you home.”

Tori stood. There were tears in her eyes. That was making her even more pissed. She watched as Shane reached across the table to pick up Ani’s card. He hesitated a moment, but then he held it out to her. Tori stared at his hand for five full seconds before she grabbed the thing, stuffed it in her pocket, and stormed back to his car.

Chapter 3: Just Another Woman Lost

T
ori sat across from the store manager, clenching her hands in fists to keep from wringing them. She had to keep reminding herself not to slouch. Authority figures were all about not slouching. As it was, she couldn’t bring herself to lift her head. It didn’t matter that she felt like sliding right onto the floor, adding to the collection of old stains on the threadbare carpet.

The damning item she’d attempted to shoplift rested on the desk that separated them. There was no denying it when caught red-handed.

The man sighed for what had to be the millionth time, and Tori couldn’t take the uncomfortable silence. “Look, it’s like I said. I panicked. I didn’t mean to take it, I swear, and—”

“Can you pay for it?”

She frowned and looked down again. Technically she could, but the money she had saved wasn’t on her, and she was sure the man wouldn’t believe her if she tried to tell him she’d be right back if he’d only let her go get it.

“Under most circumstances, Miss Kane, I wouldn’t hesitate to involve the police. Kids . . . sometimes you need to be scared straight, in my experience.”

Tori wanted to protest. She wanted to argue. Instead, she bit the inside of her cheek, sensing now wasn’t the time for her loose tongue.

The man picked up her ID, turning it over and over in his hands. “You’re going to be eighteen in a few weeks.”

“Yes.” Again, Tori resisted the urge to squirm. She was more than a little worried at the idea she might be prosecuted as an adult at this point were the man to press charges.

He looked up, his ice blue eyes narrowing. “Yes, sir.”

“Yes, sir.” She bit back a flash of anger before her sarcastic tongue could get her into worse trouble.

The manager drummed his fingers on the desktop. Tori tried not to bristle.

A full, tense minute passed.

“Get out of here,” the man said, his voice gruff as he leaned back in his chair. “I don’t want to see you in this store ever again.”

Tori blinked because luck was just not something she was used to. As soon as her brain started working again, she scrambled to her feet, ready to barrel by the scary-looking security guard who stood at the door, her stance menacing.

“Miss Kane?” the manager called before she’d taken two steps.

Tori winced and forced herself to turn back, imagining the security guard chick would probably tackle her to the floor if she tried to run as she desperately wanted to. The manager looked indecisive for a moment before he threw the item she’d been caught trying to steal at her. Tori caught it, looking at him with wide eyes.

He grimaced, but his voice was gentle when he spoke. “Good luck.”

Not for the first time, Tori wished like hell there was some private space in the godforsaken house she lived in. Then again, it occurred to her that if she were granted a single, impossible wish, it would be better spent wishing to undo what had led her to this moment in her life.

For being such a small, simple thing, the pregnancy test that lay on the counter may as well have been an executioner’s signature. This had to be what it was like to be pressed to death. She hadn’t let herself think about why she needed a pregnancy test until she saw the two pink lines. After that, every thought added to the weight on her chest. The pressure was about to break her ribs and crush her flat.

Then again, death would have been a blessing.

She’d felt like this once before, a few years ago—out of control of her own body, her skin crawling with disgust. It was different, but too much the same.

Stupid. The word screamed in her mind, loud and irate. How often had she closed her eyes these last few years and willed herself to believe the adults who told her things would get better, reasoning that, at the very least, it couldn’t get worse.

Obviously something was out to prove her wrong on that account.

Tori clapped a hand over her mouth just in time to smother the sob that rose to her throat. Her body shook, and she slid down the wall next to the tub, drawing her legs up tight against her as she began to cry in earnest.

There was a gentle rap at the door.

Tori tensed, panicking as she looked at the damning test and the cardboard box it had come in. She scrambled for it, throwing the test in the box and shoving it deep in the little trashcan by the toilet.

“V?” Tori relaxed at the sound of Brooklyn’s voice. She was about the only person in the house she could tolerate just then. “Are you okay?”

Choking back a bitter laugh, Tori sniffled and hiccupped, wiping at her face. She gave up after a moment, knowing it wasn’t any use. She wasn’t going to be able to hide her tears from the younger girl.

Bracing her hand against the tub, Tori pushed herself upright and crossed the few steps to the door, turning the lock. She slumped back to the ground, her back against the bathroom wall, and rested her head on her knees as Brooklyn shuffled into the little room.

“What happened?” The younger girl’s words were whispered as she slid down beside her. “Did Ariel do something?”

“No.” The lump in her throat made it painful to speak and swallow.

“Then what is it?” Brooklyn patted Tori’s back with tentative strokes. “Tell me.”

It was a tempting offer. Just once in her life, Tori wanted someone to lean on, someone to tell her what the hell she was supposed to do. She was so tired.

But no. Brooklyn was in no condition to help anyone.
Telling her would just make her more anxious, and Tori would have to calm her down again.

“It’s nothing,” she said finally. Rolling her head to the side to face the girl, she did her best to smile. “It’s just a bad night.”

Brooklyn nodded. “Do you want to talk?”

“No.” Tori’s tone was flat.

“Okay.” Brooklyn shifted, resting her head on Tori’s. “I’ll just stay with you.”

Tori let out a shuddering breath. She had to admit the girl’s friendly presence was a small, however fractional, amount of comfort. “Okay. Thanks, Brook.”

With her eyes closed, the sounds of her home reminded her of countless early Saturday mornings. On Saturdays, her internal clock woke her in the dawn hours, but there was no pressing need to get out of bed. She would drift, not really awake, listening to the birds outside and the faraway noise of the traffic on the freeway. The single clock she owned ticked in the living room. If she really thought about it, Ani could also hear the ambient buzz of the house’s electronics. She half expected to hear Jett’s steady breath in her ear and Mara’s soft snores from the monitor.

It wasn’t Saturday morning. It was Thursday evening, and her house should not have been so silent. Even all these months later, it was unnatural. Ani ran her fingers through her hair and tugged.

She’d set a goal for herself, but she had trouble remembering what she was supposed to be concentrating on. Apathetic about work and without a family to care for, Ani struggled to fill her nights and weekends. She sat with her hands on the keyboard of her laptop, but her attention was drawn to her memories. They were like cards being shuffled, one or another landing on top for seconds before it was shoved to the middle of the pile. One was a memory of Mara’s giggle, another Jett’s voice in her ear, another all the plans that were now scattered to the winds.

Focus.
But on what? Work? A new hobby? Tori?

Tori. After so many years of not thinking about her at all, now Ani hadn’t been able to stop. The girl wanted nothing to do with her, and Ani couldn’t blame her for that. It had been five weeks since their meeting, and Ani had yet to stop obsessing about the things she could have said.

Her little sister didn’t look how Ani had imagined. She looked a lot like their mother—light brown skin, dark brown hair—but with their father’s green eyes.

Just the way she held herself told such a sad story. Her shoulders were hunched inward, an instinctively protective stance, and when she wasn’t gesticulating, she kept her hands wrapped around her arms. The girl radiated mistrust, but that might have been reserved just for Ani.

As they spoke, it had become increasingly obvious that Tori hadn’t been very well taken care of. Not that Ani expected a child of seventeen should be entirely innocent, but the girl’s eyes and the tired, wary way she carried herself belonged on a world-weary woman at least twice her age.

But she was fiery and pissed. Every single word Tori had spoken that day had dripped sarcasm and venom like ice cream melting in the heat of the desert, coating everything with an unpleasant tackiness that seemed to attract the dirt in the air.

Under other circumstances, Ani might have found the encounter unsavory and annoying. Teenagers had always tried her patience, but it was different with Tori. Ani hadn’t ever been good with failure, and the more she looked at the situation, the more she realized she had failed Tori miserably.

“Google. I can Google her.” Ani’s fingers flew across the keyboard. “Everyone Googles, right? It’s not creepy.” She spotted a social network entry that looked promising. “If she wanted her privacy, she would set her profile to . . .”

Tori’s profile was set to private.

Ani amused herself for a handful of seconds wondering what her sister’s reaction might be if she were to send a friend request. Then she thought of what her last profile picture had been—a picture of her with Mara—and she remembered she’d shut her account down.

Her life in social network statuses would have made for an interesting read these last few months.

Met my Jett and Mara’s murderer’s fiancé. It seems like it would be strange to love a murderer. I didn’t think to ask her about it at the time
.

Ani Novak has added Victoria Kane as her sister.

Since Tori won’t let me help her, maybe I can help others in her situation.

Ani scoffed and rubbed a hand over her eyes. She remembered reading stories about people who had turned personal loss into something positive and productive. It was a nice idea in many ways. Maybe in a few years someone would write an interest piece in a magazine about how her family’s deaths prompted her to help kids in need so they wouldn’t grow up to shoot fathers holding their baby girls. But then she would have to tell her story again and again.

“Maybe it’s time to read a book. You have hundreds of unread books on the e-reader.” The thought of reading made her tired. “A class? There’s a cake decorating class at Michael’s.” She mapped out the nearest Michael’s in her head.

The park she’d met Tori and Shane at was between her house and Michael’s. If she knew where Tori lived, she might have driven by. Just to check.

Her cell phone rang. Ani cringed, but when she glanced at her phone, the number was unfamiliar. “Hello?” She could hear someone breathing on the other end, but no one spoke right away.

“Ani?” The voice sounded disgruntled.

Ani started and had to ask herself if she was dreaming. “I was just thinking about you.”

Tori scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

“It’s true. I—”

“I don’t care. Look, I need a favor from you.”

Ani drummed her fingers nervously on the steering wheel of her car, restless as she watched the sidewalk. Not for the first time, she wondered if Victoria—Tori, she’d said to call her—was playing some kind of trick on her, asking her to meet in this random parking lot at an odd time, on a very specific day. Tori had been insistent when she called that they had to meet that day.

Like the first time she’d met her sister, Ani had no idea what to expect. Tori had made it clear she didn’t want anything Ani could give her, so when she’d called, Ani couldn’t help but be suspicious. Her sister’s words were clipped but grudgingly appreciative, with an edge of what Ani thought might be desperation. Still, as long as Tori wasn’t up to something illegal, Ani supposed that most anything the girl could want would fall under the category of the least she could do.

She watched in her rearview mirror as her sister emerged from a neighborhood street about a block back. Tori walked with a gait that was too quick to look natural, more like she was trying not to look like she was running. When she slipped into the passenger seat, she was breathless.

Ani waited without speaking for Tori to start talking.

“Did you mean what you said about money?” Tori asked. Where her posture had been defiant the first time, now she was sagging. She looked down at her feet, and her cheeks burned red.

“Yes,” Ani answered carefully. “What—”

“Look, I really don’t want anything from you, okay?” Tori gulped in air as if she’d been running again. “I
need
three hundred dollars. I’m short that much. That’s all. And . . .” Again she paused and huddled even more in her seat. “I just need you to drop me off now and come back in an hour and a half. Then you can forget I ever existed again.”