Uncharted Territory

“You don’t know Tiffany Najbreit, do you?” Ella Sue asks me as I exit the bathroom. She’s back on the armchair facing the sofa-bed, looking at me inquisitively. After a cold water shower and some time alone to figure things out, I’m feeling much more myself and fully prepared to answer whatever it is that Ella Sue might throw at me.

“No, never met her,” I say, truthfully. Then, chuckling a little: “But that article did strike a certain nerve.”

By admitting that the story had an impact on me, I make it that much more believable when I spin a lie explaining why it did.

“Was it really that shocking to you?” Ella Sue asks, tilting her head to the side. “I thought it was a pretty dumb story, honestly. Like, obviously sensationalised, and not even something that TMZ would usually cover.”

“You’re right, it was a strange story. But that got me thinking,” I say, “and I had a flash of inspiration while I was reading it. I now know what my next project is going to be.”

“Really?” she asks, sounding delighted. “What’s it going to be?”

“It’ll all make sense when you see it in the exhibitions,” I reassure her, finding my spot back on the sofa bed.

“Hmph… okay then,” she says, and I give it a couple seconds to make sure that she’s satisfied before I pull out my phone again.

“Are you sureee you can’t share any details with me?” she suddenly asks, pleading me with puppy-dog eyes that she must have rehearsed. Well, at least I know she’s bought the lie now.

“Critics will have **** but to consider it a seminal work. That’s all that I’ll say about that.”

She frowns, disappointed that she didn’t get a juicier tidbit, unaware that that’s exactly what I gave her. When it becomes clear that I’m not going to drop anything more, she turns her attention to her phone, and I turn to mine.

Father’s going to look to take you out. Any chance you go public to defend yourself? It would make it easier for us to collaborate too.

I turn over Erin’s latest text in my head. It’s an interesting idea, but I know I could never do it.

Going public means giving up on my plan. I can’t do that, I reply. Besides, he can’t hurt me if he doesn’t know where I am.

Even we don’t know where you are anymore, Genevieve writes.

What happened? I ask. Or is the coverage out in these rural mountains so crap that you can’t triangulate my location?

The tech companies cut the data agreements I had with them soon after the news broke, she writes. Which reminds me, I need to start looking for a job again. Erin might have cushy tenure (who knows if she’s even getting fired), but I’m not passing committee now.

Sorry to hear that, I write back. I know I’m at fault for this mess.

We made our choices, Genevieve writes. Don’t get hung up over us. We’ll be fine.

Still, losing the map data is a real blow. Our eye in the sky on Vidocq was the one lead we had over Father, I write. Even with it, we barely managed to outmanoeuvre him in Boston. Any future encounter is bound to be ten times tougher to navigate.

I still have some local data stored on my computer, I was just checking it earlier. The last records that I have indicate that Vidocq was stuck in the hospital ever since he took that dive in the harbor. Maybe he’s got pneumonia or something, Genevieve writes.

Maybe he’s dead, I respond. But I’m not getting my hopes up.

We bought you some time, and it cost us a damn lot. Use it to cut any final ties you might have to your old identity. It might be your last chance, Erin writes.

I stare at the screen, repeating her words in my head. She is, as always, right. It’s a good thing I left all my ties back in New York. I gave the last of it to Mr. Samuel, who should have passed it on to Jericho. I only hope that they’re both doing fine.

“Hey um… awkward question,” Ella Sue says, breaking me out of my thoughts.

I look up to her pretty face and see the nervous half-smile there. Something about that smile melts my heart, and I slip my phone back into my pocket. She touches her hair self-consciously, making me wonder what’s on her mind.

“Are you missing teddy again? Do you need another cuddle?” I ask, crossing the short gap across the train compartment to her armchair. I put my arms around her, hugging her lightly, and she laughs, hugging me back, before patting the small space next to her on the chair. It’s not nearly enough for me to sit in.

“This works better if I’m the one sitting on the chair,” I say. I pick her up gently, and then she seats herself on my lap, wiggling her ass into my cock. I resist the urge to take her right then and there, and ask instead: “So, the awkward question?”

“Um… yeah, awkward question,” she says, craning her neck around her shoulders so that she can look at me as she talks. “Do you want to live with me?”

The confused look I give her must tell it all.

“I need to find somebody to live with me! Or, well, technically a subletter,” Ella Sue says. “I was just eager to get going when I signed my lease with the landlord, I just wanted to take the first place that was good, so I picked a two bedroom unit and agreed to find the other person who would live there, and I figured you seem like a decent person, but I mean, you probably have a place already, and I don’t even know that you’re staying in LA for more than a few weeks, so maybe it doesn’t…”

“I’ll do it,” I say, and her face lights up.

“Really?” she asks. “Rent is about fifteen hundred a month, don’t know how that fits into your budget…”

“Tell you landlord that you’ve found yourself a subletter.”

“Ohmygod I’m so excited,” Ella Sue says, practically squirming on my cock, and I kiss her, feeling her lips press against mine, the two of us making out on a train to LA like two stupid teenage runaways.