Hunting Lila Read online

  ‘Hey, I recognise that T-shirt!’

  Oh God. Inside my head I doubled over, cringing. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks as, casually, with as much insouciance as I was capable of, I pulled the front of the T-shirt away from my body as though I too was wondering what on earth I was wearing. As if I didn’t know. As if I hadn’t undressed myself just a few hours ago and pulled that very T-shirt on as I did almost every night. Unthinkingly, or at least not thinking that the person who used to own that T-shirt would come across me wearing it in the middle of the night.

  I tried for wide-eyed innocence: ‘What, this thing?’

  He was frowning at the almost faded Washington State logo across my chest. I wished it had faded off completely. ‘Yeah, that was mine, I’m sure of it,’ he said.

  ‘Oh, really?’ My voice had picked up an octave. I lowered it. ‘I thought it was one of Jack’s old ones. I found it lying around one day and kind of adopted it.’

  I risked a glance at him.

  Alex looked puzzled.

  ‘It’s good for sleeping in,’ I continued.

  ‘Yeah, I can see that.’ He was smiling now.

  I jumped up. The subject needed changing before I died. ‘So, you fancy some tea?’

  ‘Yeah, OK, thanks.’

  I filled the kettle, feeling his eyes burning into my back.

  ‘Has it really been so bad?’

  I turned around, frowning. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘London. Living there with your dad. I can see you’re not happy. I can hear it in your emails too. Tell me what’s been going on.’

  The kettle almost fell from my grip. ‘Nothing much. It’s just not home, you know?’

  Alex didn’t say anything but he didn’t take his eyes off me either.

  How to explain? Telling him the reason I was so unhappy was because I was away from him wasn’t an option unless I never wanted to see him again. Urgh. This was so difficult. Especially with him focusing on me so hard it was like he was trying to see all the way through me. It made it difficult to keep a train of thought going. I looked down at the floor.

  ‘In Washington, I always felt a part of everything. In the middle of a family. I had you and Jack.’ I risked a glance back up at him. He smiled at me briefly and then lapsed back into a half-scowl.

  ‘In London I didn’t know anyone apart from Dad and he wasn’t around much. And I couldn’t talk for a long time, I felt so numb.’ My voice cracked. ‘By the time that passed, I just – I just felt so separate, so different to everyone else, like I didn’t fit in.’ I paused. There was so much I couldn’t tell him. Like how when I said I was different to everyone else, I wasn’t talking about having an American accent and a dead mother. I was talking about suddenly and inexplicably being able to move things just by looking at them. I think that qualified me for the ‘different’ category. Hell, it put me right to the front of it.

  There was an awkward silence. I turned away and switched on the kettle and reached up for the tea bags from the cupboard overhead.

  ‘There’s so much I don’t know about you,’ he said.

  I bit my lip. He had no idea just how much.

  ‘What the hell?’

  I spun my head to see what Alex was swearing about. He was staring at my right leg and wincing. I tried with my free hand to yank the T-shirt down to cover the ugly black bruise that spread like an oil slick along my thigh.

  Alex crouched down, his fingertips grazing mine as he brushed my hand away. He began to trace the line of the bruise towards my knee, like a doctor checking for a break. He was quick and methodical about it and I wondered for a second whether this was some in-built response Marines were trained for whenever they saw injuries. If so I’d have to injure myself more often. I drew in a sharp breath, not because it hurt, but because his fingers were causing little shocks to dance up my legs.

  He pulled his hand back. ‘Sorry.’

  Actually, I was the sorry one. I could have stood there all night and a little bit longer. I yanked the T-shirt down and twisted around so Alex couldn’t see the bruise anymore, embarrassed now to look him in the face in case he saw in my eyes the lies I was about to tell him.

  But Alex only moved silently to the fridge, opened it and pulled something out of the freezer tray. Then he turned back, reaching for a towel hanging on the side. He wrapped the ice pack up tight and then, with his hand on my shoulder, edged me backwards into a chair. He knelt down and pressed the towel against my leg. I yelped at the sudden cold but he ignored me, taking my hand and placing it on top of the pack so I could hold it in place.

  He looked up at me now. ‘What happened to you?’

  ‘It’s no big deal,’ I answered.

  He stood up slowly. ‘So, why won’t you tell me?’ A small frown line appeared between his eyes. ‘What happened? Is this anything to do with why you’re here?’

  I realised then that I couldn’t laugh it off. He knew me too well to know when I was lying. And maybe a little part of me, the part weakened by the touch of his fingers on my leg, wanted to tell him.

  ‘OK, I’ll tell you – but you have to promise not to say a word to Jack or I’m not spilling a thing.’

  ‘I don’t like keeping secrets from Jack.’

  ‘What are you guys – married or something? Promise, or I’m not telling.’ He didn’t say anything so I made to get up out of the chair.

  He took a half-step forward as if to stop me. ‘OK, OK, I won’t tell him.’

  ‘Good.’ I paused. ‘I was mugged. Two kids on bikes. They slammed into me. It’s not important.’

  He stared at me, his eyes narrowing. ‘So why didn’t you just tell us?’ he asked quietly.

  I swallowed. ‘Because I know exactly how Jack would have reacted. You know if he finds out he’ll want to get on the next plane over and go find them. You know what he’s like.’ I took a breath. ‘Look, you two can’t go around protecting me my whole life. I can take care of myself. You have special Marine stuff to do – you know, important Mission-Impossible-saving-the-world type stuff. I don’t think babysitting little sisters qualifies in that category and, besides, if you were babysitting me you wouldn’t get to blow stuff up.’

  I looked at Alex and noticed his jaw was set and his lips pressed together in a hard line. Not necessarily a good sign.

  I tried again, as he still hadn’t said anything. ‘You don’t need to worry about me. Like I said, I can take care of myself. I dealt with it. They didn’t even get my iPod.’

  His eyes widened. ‘What? HOW did you deal with it?’

  My cheeks filled up like a pufferfish and I let the air out in a rush. ‘Um, I guess I’m just pretty damn ninja.’

  I waited for the next question. Alex seemed to be absorbing this last bit of information. Perhaps he was imagining me doing some crazy roundhouse moves. I braced myself for another round of quick-fire questions, wondering why I’d opened my mouth in the first place.

  Eventually, he broke the silence. ‘We don’t blow stuff up.’

  ‘You don’t?’

  ‘No.’

  I was grateful for the change of subject.

  ‘What do you do, then? I thought you were some special unit – don’t special units have a remit to blow things up?’

  I didn’t want him to answer. I didn’t really want to know what Jack and Alex did as a day job. My only reference for the shady world of special operations was gleaned from 24 and Bond movies. The thought of either of them getting hurt caused me actual physical pain, a stabbing feeling between my ribs that stopped me breathing, to be exact – so long ago I’d created a Disney version of what a special operations unit was. It involved animals that talked and burst into tune at any given moment and old ladies needing help to cross the road.

  ‘You’d be surprised by our remit,’ Alex said. A sardonic smile twitched at the corner of his mouth then vanished, to be replaced again by a frown. ‘You should get back to bed,’ he suddenly said. ‘You must be exhausted.’


  I sighed. He was right. I could feel the leaden weight of exhaustion starting to pull me down. I wanted to kiss him goodnight but he stayed where he was, leaning against the counter, arms folded against his chest, and I didn’t have the guts to walk over to him.

  ‘Yeah, I should.’ I paused, then added, ‘Night, Alex.’

  ‘I’ll be here on the couch if you need anything. Sleep well.’

  I turned towards the hallway and my bed, wondering how he’d take it if I told him the only thing I needed was him – and whether, if he knew that, he’d take back the offer.

  5

  I was up late the next morning, it was gone eleven. Hot yellow light was billowing in through the window. I threw the cover off and stretched, feeling completely awake and deliciously languid. As I did so, my hand came into contact with a folded piece of paper on the pillow next to my head. I squinted at the familiar writing.

  Lila

  You requested a note next time. I’ve had to go. I didn’t want to wake you, you seemed so peaceful. Jack should be home by the time you read this. I’ll see you later.

  Alex

  He’d actually come into my room. I contemplated that as I surveyed my sprawl across the bed. The sheets were strewn half across the floor. My – rather his – T-shirt had ridden up over my hip on one side exposing a triangle of back and giving a pretty good view of my underwear. I hoped I hadn’t been kicking or yelling in my sleep but I didn’t remember any more nightmares. I read the note for a third time. He had said I looked peaceful, so hopefully that meant silent. And beatific. Or maybe not. I didn’t want to look saintly to him – I wanted to look sexy. The two didn’t seem compatible as adjectives. Oh God, I had to switch my head off.

  I decided to take a run in an effort to turn down the chatter in my brain. I got up, took a few minutes in the bathroom then threw on a pair of shorts that covered my bruise nicely and a T-shirt. I did the laces up on my running shoes and headed down the stairs, gathering my hair into a ponytail as I went.

  ‘Jack?’ I yelled.

  My voice echoed back at me. The house was empty, the silence hummed. I guessed he was still at work – he sure worked some crazy hours.

  I stepped out into the midday Californian heat, shutting the door behind me, and took off in the direction of the ocean.

  My mind stilled itself, drifting into a consciousness that registered only the rhythmic smack of my feet hitting the concrete, the dry rustle of the palm fronds along the street and the distant sounds of lazy traffic. I kept on until the Alex chatter had reduced to background noise and then I looped back to the house.

  As I rounded the corner of the street, I pushed into a sprint for the final fifty metres, desperate to reach the shade of the porch and get out of the bleaching sun, which was drilling like a laser through the top of my skull. A dark shape caught my eye on the veranda by the front door. As I came closer I saw it was a girl, crouching awkwardly as she peered through the letter box. She was wearing a short black-and-white dress, her bare legs flashing like pearls in the shadows. What was she doing?

  I scanned the street quickly, my feet still driving me forward but my pulse now elevated beyond the high of my run. All around was a perfectly normal suburban scene: children playing in a backyard, the cicada hiss of water sprinklers. It was ridiculous of me to panic. She was just a girl. I couldn’t let two kids with a knife terrorise my thoughts for the rest of my life.

  The slap of my feet on the pavement alerted her and she whipped around to face me, poised and alert as a cat with its back arched. When she saw me though, her pose relaxed, her shoulders dropped and a slow smile crept onto her face. I came to a stop at the bottom of the veranda steps.

  ‘Can I help you?’ I panted, squinting up at her.

  My first impression was of someone who looked like she’d jumped straight out of a manga cartoon. She was drawn with fast, jagged lines, from the sharp slash of her cheekbones to the zigzag shapes of her dress. She was teetering on three-inch platform heels that gave the impression she was balanced on stilts. Her hair was cut sharply into a jet-black bob that followed the angle of her jaw and sheathed her face on either side. She had straight black eyebrows and dark gold eyes fringed by spidery lashes. I wondered if it was Sara but she certainly didn’t look like a neuroscientist, that was for sure, more like a Japanese superhero – she was stunning, to the point of not seeming real – and she was eyeing me as though I was a little bird she was deciding whether or not to pounce on.

  As I waited for a response of some description, she tilted her head to one side like she could hear a noise from somewhere behind the house and her eyes narrowed. She looked me up and down.

  ‘You live here?’ she asked in a voice like glitter.

  ‘Yeah,’ I nodded, wiping the sweat away from my brow with the back of my arm. ‘Can I help you?’

  She danced down the steps, springing towards me so fast I was forced to take a step back.

  She smiled wide, baring her little white teeth at me. ‘I think maybe you can. I was looking for Jack,’ she said brightly.

  Now it clicked. For all Jack’s words about monogamy, clearly he’d been up to something with this girl. Leopards and spots, after all.

  I was disappointed and it came through in my voice. ‘I’m his sister.’

  She seemed delighted to hear it, glad that I wasn’t a rival, I guess. I knew the routine and waited. This was the point where girls would switch into suck-up mode and start to ask me what his favourite bands were and what star sign he was.

  ‘Nice to meet you, Jack’s sister. I’m Suki.’ She held out her hand.

  ‘Hi, I’m Lila,’ I said, reaching out my hand to shake hers reflexively. I was stumped still as to who exactly she was and what she had been doing peering through our letter box. That was stalker behaviour. ‘So, um, should I tell him you called round?’

  She didn’t reply and neither did she let go of my hand. Her grip tightened minutely as she stared at me with a weird transfixed look on her face. I was seriously going to bring this up with Jack. Where was he hanging out to pick up girls like this?

  Then suddenly she was back in the moment, shaking her head and laughing her dainty little laugh. ‘No, don’t you worry about that. I doubt he remembers me anyhow.’

  She gave me another big smile and skipped off down the road, pausing once to look back at me over her shoulder with an expression of childish glee which lit up her face.

  ‘Weird,’ I muttered to myself.

  I trudged up the steps to let myself in. The door was still double-locked, so I knew Jack wasn’t home. With a sinking stomach I remembered I’d forgotten to set the alarm. Still, Jack didn’t need to know. I let myself in, toed off my running shoes and ran up the stairs into the bathroom where I turned on the shower with just a glance in its direction and then whipped back the shower curtain with a second glance before remembering once again that I was supposed to be going cold turkey with this power thing.

  As I was drying my hair, I heard the rattle of keys in the front door. Pulling my towel around me, I stepped into the hallway to peer down the stairs.

  It was just Jack.

  ‘Hi,’ he said as he appeared in the hallway. He looked tired.

  ‘Hi.’ I waved back.

  ‘Why’s the alarm off?’

  I pulled a face. ‘Um, because I forgot to set it?’

  ‘Did you go out?’ he asked.

  ‘Yeah, I went for a run.’

  He glowered at me. ‘Don’t go out without telling me first, OK? And don’t ever forget to set the alarm.’

  I stared at him. Why didn’t he just stick a tracking device on me and chain me up while he was at it?

  ‘I’ll get you a pass to the gym on the base, you can run there.’

  He turned to walk into the kitchen and I watched him go, wondering whether he’d ever let up on the overprotective big brother routine. Then I went back into the bathroom and got dressed.

  When I joined him downstairs he was busy fr
ying some bacon and eggs.

  ‘So, what happened to you last night? Where’d you disappear to?’ I asked, sitting at the table.

  ‘Oh, just a work thing.’ He had his back to me as he flipped the bacon with a spatula.

  ‘What kind of work thing? Why did you have to leave in the middle of the night? Or am I not allowed to know? Is it all top secret?’

  ‘Yep, it’s so top secret that if I told you, I’d have to kill you. And seeing how you’re my sister, that might not be too good for our relationship.’

  ‘Ha ha. Wow, very James Bond.’ I paused for a moment. ‘Hopefully without the scantily clad women.’ I didn’t want to imagine any Bond girl moments involving Alex.

  ‘So, who are the bad guys then?’

  I was sparking with curiosity, though a big part of me still didn’t want to know. Was it drug busting? Gang wars? Vice? I was pretty sure from the way Jack was trying to avoid the question, it wasn’t petty crime.

  He rested the spatula on the side and turned to face me, recognising I wasn’t ready to let this drop. ‘No one you need to worry about.’ He gave me a look and then turned back to spoon the eggs onto the plates.

  ‘I’m not worried. Why would I need to worry? Didn’t you catch them last night?’ I raised my eyebrows innocently.

  ‘We caught one of them.’ He didn’t sound happy, like he’d won the bronze not the gold. He was always so competitive.

  One of them – that seemed to suggest there were a finite number. Maybe it was a gang, then. Jack came and sat down opposite me. I looked at his face and tried again to picture him and Alex catching bad guys. The thought of Alex in uniform induced an automatic smile but then I thought about guns and the fighting that had to be involved in stopping bad guys and I had to struggle from having a full-blown panic attack.

  ‘So you had a chat with Alex last night?’

  I almost choked on my eggs. My mind stumbled over itself trying to think what Alex might have told him. When had they even spoken?