He who is prudent and lies in wait for an enemy who is not, will be victorious.
I exhaled and took Sun Tzu’s advice and prudently buried the urge to strangle the smirk off Jack’s face. I could do it.Easily. Except we stood in the middle of the White Pearl, a seedy club in downtown San Francisco, surrounded by people who belonged to the underbelly of the city. Drug deals, illegal trade, and gambling were all protected by the barely concealed weapons that were more shrouded by the shadows than the suits of the men who carried them.
It was no real secret that the White Pearl was a frequent hangout for higher-ranking Wah Ching members. Maybe Jack was the reason it wasn’t a secret, maybe not. Regardless, Jack could be found most weekend nights here trying to look the part of an organized crime boss in the hopes they’d finally bring him into their circle.
“Then why is all her stuff still at her apartment?” I demanded and folded my arms.
His eyes dropped not-so-subtly to my chest.Pig.When he looked back up, there was something different about his stare. Like my question put a chink in his story’s facade.
“Because she was unstable and unpredictable. You of all people should know that,” he insisted, his emphasis unmistakable.
I bristled. Yes, it wasn’t…normal for her and me to fight like we had. In the history of dynamic duos, there would always be Batman and Robin, Timon and Pumba, Rocky and Bullwinkle, and Mara and Sutton. We’d braved my mom’s bipolar episodes and drug addiction together. We’d faced her dad’s physical abuse and alcoholism together. My dad’s death. Her mom’s passing. Even during my incarceration, she’d written to me every week. Because of her, I wasn’t alone.
Mara was the one waiting for me when I was released. I’d wanted to stay with her during my parole, but when I told Daws, he informed me that Mara had a record now, too, so it wasn’t allowed.
I remembered the day she picked me up. It was so bittersweet to see her again. Three and a half years was a long time for a best friend to change. And for her to not tell me about her own run-ins with the law.
Maybe she hadn’t said anything because she’d wanted to tell me in person. That was the assumption I’d went with when I’d asked her. She’d hesitated to tell me, but then admitted to the drug stuff, her disappointment in herself painted all over her face. And she promised she was done with all of it. That she’d found a new purpose. That her life was on a better track.
I remembered smiling at her and thinking both of ours finally were.
It took quite a few weeks before I’d met Jack. Not on purpose either. He’d shown up to her apartment excited about something. He’d barged right in, waving around a bag of pills and begging Mara to celebrate with him. She’d been flustered. Embarrassed.Afraidas she introduced me to him.
They’d been dating for months, and she hadn’t told me. And instantly, I was afraid that what shehadtold me—about being clean and on the path to something better—was a lie.
It didn’t take long after that to realize the kind of character Jack was and the type of things he was involved in, and after finding out, I didn’t wait to confront Mara. That was when we’d argued. Over him. Over everything Jack represented. And then she’d kicked me out of her apartment and told me she never wanted to see me again.
“Mara wouldn’t have left everything, Jack. I know her. Just like I know you’re full of shit.” I pressed on that button harder. I refused to believe her angry words. Refused to believe she’d pick Jack over me. And I’d continue refusing to believe it until I saw her again.
The soft curve of Jack’s jaw flexed, his expression souring.Good.
“Then why aren’t the police looking for her?”
“Because they’re idiots, and I’m not.”
After we’d fought, I gave her a couple of weeks to cool off. Not entirely disconnected because I wasn’t the kind of person who was kept quiet. I texted her every day, telling her she needed to cut the drugs and cut Jack. Telling her that I wasn’t going anywhere. Reminding her of our promise to take care of each other. And when none of that got her to respond, I texted her one final message:Legal prey.
As two girls who dressed in black, had our septums pierced, acted like tomboys, and came from immigrant families, there was no shortage of bullies at school who tried to prey on us. At fourteen,The Girl with the Dragon Tattoowasn’t exactly the kind of book we should’ve been reading or referencing, but Mom couldn’t care less, and Mara’s dad only cared about the bottle. So, we read it, internalized it, and immortalized Lisbeth Salander, the badass girl with the dragon tattoo, as our idol. We picked fights with bullies at school to prove we could hold our own.And we’d adopted the moniker in the book,legal prey,likea badge of honor—a kind of code to remind us to never be taken advantage of.
Legal preygot Mara to respond. She’d hearted the message, and I’d had hope. But then every subsequent message over the next four days was left unread. At that point, I’d had enough. So, I went to her apartment to talk to her, but there was no answer.
I asked the security guard who first tried to extort sexual favors from me in exchange for an answer. I gave him a knife to the throat instead.No wonder he didn’t like me.On threat of bodily harm, he told me last he saw her, she was leaving with her boyfriend.
Jack.
I first went to the police and reported her missing. But…legal prey.I was who I was. Looked how I did. And the moment they pulled up her name, saw her record, and then heard that Jack Kang, rumored drug dealer, was the last to be seen with her, the two officers at the desk pieced together the picture they wanted to see and promptly overlooked my concern.
And that was the moment I realized nothing had really changed in the last almost four years and that I would have to find Mara on my own.
So, I went back to Mara’s apartment, intent on finding some kind of clue or evidence, but we all know how that turned out: with me on Tynan’s doorstep when I really needed to be here, getting answers from Jack.
“She’s gone, Sutton. Stop looking for her,” he repeated, losing some of the flippancy in his voice.
Slivers of icy dread scraped through my veins. “Where is she, Jack?” I demanded, stepping closer to him. “Or do I have to make a scene and make you look bad in front of your precious Wah Ching?”
That earned me a snarl.
“I’m not here for them,” he snapped low.