Free Closed Hearts by Susan Kaye Quinn Page A

raised his voice to be heard over the sparking of the laser. “How is the door coming along?”
    Sasha flicked off the laser and set it down. He stood, lifting the goggles and perching them on his forehead, trapping his curly black hair underneath.
    Instead of answering Julian, he said, “So, you found her.” He turned his dark brown eyes to me. They were almost black, like a bottomless pit that couldn’t reflect light. “That’s too bad. I was hoping you might have gotten lost.”
    “Sasha.” Julian’s voice was filled with patience. “The door?”
    Sasha tugged off his welding gloves. “It will hold for now,” he said. “I can rig up a passring sensor and get a new door frame in the morning. Assuming Kira doesn’t decide to break down our door again.” He said my name like it was something bitter, then stepped back to let us pass, tracking me with a cold stare. Julian ushered us into the dim light inside, trading the damp summer air for the stale machine-grease smell of the converted factory. Sasha scooped up his welder and clanged the metal door shut, followed by a click that signaled we weren’t going anywhere.
    Raf walked with stiff legs to the kitchen table and carefully sat in a rickety chair, staring vacantly at the carpeted floor. Myrtle took up a station next to him. My heart was ripping into pieces at the blank look on his face, so I turned my back to the table. Hinckley sat on the edge of the broken-down couch, where Ava was roughly bundled in a thick blanket. Sasha knelt by her, smoothing her hair and sending me a look that sent a shiver through me.
    “Ava’s not going to be happy with you when she wakes up,” Julian said. He leaned against the kitchen counter, retrieving an apple from a basket and taking a noisy bite. I didn’t like Julian before, but the loathing I had for him was reaching new heights.
    “Let Raf go.” I didn’t care that desperation crumpled my voice. “I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t hurt him.”
    “Hurt him?” Julian stopped mid-chew. “I don’t think you quite understand the situation you’re in here.” He gestured with the apple. “This is Jackertown. There’re quite a few jackers who don’t realize how important you are—to us, to jackers everywhere—and who would be happy to see you dead for your trouble.”
    I had no idea what Julian meant about my importance , but I understood quite well that plenty of jackers wanted me dead. Sasha seemed like he would be happy to do the honors.
    “I have some influence here,” continued Julian. Hinckley gave a snort from his perch on the couch. “Which is why I was able to get you to Myrtle’s safe house. And back again. But him,” Julian said and pointed at Raf, “he’s as good as dead out there. That, or a ruthless crew that doesn’t have much in the Morals Department will use him for a pawn. I had thought you would understand that and not go dragging a reader through the streets.”
    Julian’s patronizing tone lit a fire in me. Maybe he had gotten us off the street, but we were hardly safe. “You’re the one that dragged us here in the first place!”
    “I had no intention of bringing him here!” Julian pushed away from the counter and threw the apple in a small trash can, knocking it over. “I thought…” He seemed at a loss for words for the first time since I’d woken up on the couch. He swiped a hand across his mouth and glared at my fists curled up by my side. “I don’t understand what you see in that mindreader, but for whatever reason, you seem to care about him. I never intended for him to be here, but now that he is, it’s better that he stay safely asleep.”
    With those words, Raf’s body caved facedown onto the dingy table. Myrtle took a seat next to him, and Molloy drifted from the back to land by Raf’s side, his meaty arms folded as he loomed above him. My fingernails were digging trenches in my palms.
    Julian crossed his arms again and leaned back against the kitchen