Page 61 of Antihero

“I don’t know,” Blanca said. “My parents are pretty strict.”

“I don’t blame them,” B-Roll said. “’F I had a daughter like you.”

She blushed. “They got marriage therapy Friday nights.”

“Marriage therapy, huh?”

Blanca rolled her eyes. “You know.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Friday night? I have Luce, gotta babysit. Hey, maybe we could watch a Disney movie together. Like, The Little Mermaid?”

“I love that movie. I wanted to be Ariel.”

“Wanna know a secret?” B-Roll said. “I still wanna be Ariel.”

A big laugh.

B-Roll took out his phone, swung it over to her. “I’ll hit you up.”

She shook her head like she couldn’t believe she was about to do something crazy, then took the phone and pecked in her digits.

She handed it back, all flirty. “See ya, Beast.”

B-Roll let his gaze linger on her and she let him let it. “See ya,” he said, “Beauty.”

“Stoopid.” She gave a little headshake but blushed deep and then she was gone.

B-Roll spun around to Taz.

They bumped fists.

They walked for a while, B-Roll whistling through his teeth.

Taz’s throat was dry. “Maybe…” He had to clear his throat. “Don’t you think maybe she’s wrong for us?” He gave a shrug he hoped was casual. “Too, dunno, wholesome and shit.”

“Wholesome’s what we’re looking for,” B-Roll said. “Wholesome sells.”

Taz flushed with—what? Embarrassment? Fear? Dread? He looked away quickly to hide his face. “You sure as shit know how to get ’em.”

B-Roll spit once on the sidewalk. “Fish in a barrel,” he said.

26Hissy Fit

“X, I nailed the fucker! I had to hack, like, three different services at Solventry but I finally got to a linked bank account with a physical address. Texting now.”

The RoamZone dinged with a downtown address, along with an abbreviated dossier Joey had put together. YngTl69 proved to be Manny Llorente, a former human resources IT manager. No record of working or paying taxes for the past three years. He’d fallen off the radar entirely, odd for a guy with a B.A. from Stony Brook, zero priors, and no known criminal associates.

“And I haveta tell you, Devine’s setup here? The Brain? It is literally sick.”

Literally, Evan thought.

He’d stepped out of Anca’s living room to take the call, easing into her father’s preserved bedroom for privacy. He peeked out through the cracked door to check on Candy.

Given the nature of the mission, she’d gone to great lengths to present plainly in order to smother her magnetism. Sweater and black jeans, touch of smoke at the eyes, blond hair held in a simple ponytail. She still looked far from unalluring, but this was the closest to unalluring Candy McClure could manage. When unimpeded, her sensuality was an electromagnetic force field, acting on everything it came into contact with.

At the moment, she was sitting cross-legged on the couch, listening intently to Anca. Her lips were pursed, head slightly cocked to match Anca’s, a loose corkscrew of hair edging one cheek. Evan had seen her focused plenty of times but never with so much connection in her gaze.

Emerging from the foster-care system and the Orphan Program unscathed was impossible. As hard as it had been for Evan, he hadn’t had to run either gauntlet as a female. Candy had endured both, and each had left its claw marks.