Page 18 of Alphas Like Us
Maximoff is staring off in the distance. Lost in his head. Almost like he’s nothere.
I’m not close enough to wake himup.
“…the grandson oftwoFortune 500 moguls with the billion-dollar companies Fizzle and Hale Co…” The auctioneer pushes up his silver-rimmed glasses and reads a bio to theaudience.
I partially tune him out and whisper to Oscar, “How much do you think he’ll gofor?”
“More than you have,Redford.”
I roll my eyes, but I would’ve said the same thing. This is a fucking pipe dream, butLuna only went for twelve grand. Jane wasforty.
Oscar bats his eyelashes. “It’s the thought thatcounts.”
“Did you come up with that one all on your own, Oliveira?” My curt voice draws his lips down. This shit is actually serious to me, and henotices.
“How much do you have to spend?” Oscar asks, his strict tone matchingmine.
“Twelvegrand.”
Donnelly smacks a pack of cigarettes on his palm, but he won’t smoke in this venue. “You really soldit?”
“I had to.” With all the fines I incurred on tour for breaking security rules, my bank account sat idle at three hundredbucks.
I don’t need to be an Ivy League grad to know Maximoff’s price tag will be much higher thanthat.
“Sold what?” Quinn Oliveira asks. The youngest bodyguard sidles over to us, distancing himself from Thatcher Moretti: the six-foot-seven immobile bodyguard who hasn’t budged verbally or physically since we’ve beenhere.
A silent Thatcher is my favorite Thatcher. Because when he’s speaking, nine-times-out-of-ten it’s to reprimand me. Since he accepted his demotion, no longer a lead of any force, he scolds meeight-times-out-of-ten now. But he has no real power over meanymore.
“Farrow sold his bike,” Donnelly answers, sliding an unlit cigarette behind hisear.
Quinn gestures to me. “Bro, I would’ve bought it. I’ve been looking forone.”
I keep watch of the stage, Maximoff, the auctioneer, and Omega all at once. “What would you’ve offered for a five-year-old FZ-09?”
“It’s a Yamaha,” Oscar says to his littlebrother.
“I know,” Quinn snaps and rubs his unshaven jaw,frustrated.
Oscar raises his hands. “Just trying tohelp.”
Quinn ignores him and nods to me. “Fourgrand.”
“And that’s why I didn’t sell it to you,” I say easily, and then I catch some of the auctioneer’swords.
“…at nineteen, Maximoff Hale attended Harvard University and swam for theirteam…”
I heat, the clicker damp in my palm. I rub my hand on my shirt, then I glance at Oscar, feeling his gaze on me. He’s perceptive and clever, a lethal combination for those who don’t want to be analyzed. But I don’tmind.
“You can say it,” I tellhim.
He puts a hand on my shoulder. “I’ve never seen you likethis.”
I’ve never cared about someone likethis.
“What’d you sell it for then?” Quinn asks me about mybike.
“Twelve grand,” I say distantly, hearing voices escalate in the lobby behind the doubledoors.
