Page 38 of Girl Anonymous

Maarja didn’t even turn back. “No. I—”

“You don’t like me. I know.” Dante’s voice dripped ice. “You don’t want any favors. But if there’s a chance Alex won’t survive, I can get your mother to Alex’s side in time.”

CHAPTER 16

Discovering the Oakland neighborhood where Maarja had spent her adolescence explained a lot about her personality.

Meeting her mother explained even more.

Dante’s pilot set the helicopter down on the high school lawn, if it could be called a lawn. It looked like a war zone, brown except for the weeds and pockmarked with holes. He removed his headphones and spoke directly to her. “This was your school?”

Maarja followed suit, hanging the headgear on the hook beside her. “My alma mater. The school building’s been condemned for years. Sheetrock down, insulation all over the floor, leaking toilets. Crime rate commensurate with the neighborhood. Official name is Casas Bonitas. All of the kids call it Cacas Boners.”

Dante winced.

A skinny Vietnamese man waited under the portcullis beside a fit, broad-shouldered, gray-haired woman in dark glasses. He held her arm and spoke while she nodded, and Dante knew from the way Maarja’s face lit up that was Octavia Maldovitch.

He admitted to some trepidation at meeting her. He and Maarja had a relationship, one based on suspicion, distrust (his), heroism and hurt (hers), and one mind-blowing fuck. What would her mother have to say to him? Nothing, he supposed;during the ride, none of Maarja’s attention had been focused on him. For her, now, he was nothing but a convenience, a way to get her and her mother to her sister’s bedside.

“That blade is rotating above. Keep your head down.” He slid the door back so Maarja could jump out and run to her mother. The two women embraced, held each other as if exchanging strength, and spoke, then Maarja and Octavia waved at the man who’d escorted her here. “Thank you, Mr. Nyugen!” Octavia called.

He waved back and walked purposefully toward the gang of hostile youths headed toward the helicopter.

The gang parted like the Red Sea.

Hm. Something about Mr. Nyugen made them wary.

Putting her hand on Maarja’s arm, Octavia walked with her toward the helicopter.

The shock shivered through Dante.

Octavia Maldovitch was visually impaired. He hadn’t understood why she couldn’t make her own way to Alex’s side, but he’d been willing to play whatever game they wanted to play. No game; the dark glasses protected those eyes, and yes, he was an asshole. He got out and spoke. “Mrs. Maldovitch, I’m Dante Arundel.”

She extended her hand and took his in a strong grip. “Good to meet you, Dante. I’m Octavia. Thank you for offering the use of your helicopter. If not for you, we’d be hours getting out of the Bay Area and to Sacramento and in that time—” She caught her breath. “Let’s go.”

Maarja provided a visual of the helicopter for her mother: the pilot in front, an empty seat beside him, two seats side-by-side and one small cramped one in the back. Dante helped Octavia into the seat that Maarja had occupied before, and as he made sure she had clicked her seat belt, Maarja climbed into the back, leaving him to sit beside Octavia. He helped her exploreher headgear before she placed it on her ears and adjusted the microphone.

Donning his, he spoke into the microphone. “Can you hear me, Octavia?”

“Yes! Clearly, thank you.” She turned her head back toward Maarja. “Are you belted in, sweetheart?”

“I’m here, Mom.” Maarja had started dripping tears again, that soundless crying that didn’t seem to affect her voice or efficiency.

“Don’t cry, Maarja.”

How did Octavia know that?

“Alex’s going to recover. We’ll make sure of it.”

“I know, Mom.” Maarja wiped at her cheeks.

“I’ve arranged to have the helicopter land at the hospital. We’ll be there in about thirty minutes, depending on the air traffic there.” Dante handed Maarja tissues and signaled to the pilot to lift off.

Octavia tapped on her watch, setting the timer.

As the helicopter rose, Dante saw the gangs who’d been advancing on it scatter…and they hadn’t been a welcome committee. What did they think, that they were going to strip down the helicopter? Or take possession and go for a ride? Scary place, this part of Oakland. Again, another insight into Maarja’s mind. He already knew her well enough to realize she wouldn’t like him being in her head.

The helicopter headed east across the Bay Area, over clogged freeways, industrial areas, and subdivisions that stretched toward the horizon.

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