Nothing to Lose (13 page)

I could have argued with him, but what would have been the point? Besides, it was still two weeks until his rent would be due and he would have other bills to pay. Maybe something would happen by then. Maybe a miracle. We sat together in silence for a few moments. Then I couldn't stand it anymore.

“Nick, what's going on with you?”

“You mean about getting fired?”

“That. And the bruise on your neck. And the way you and that cop looked at each other this morning. And the girl from the bakery who turned up at the hospital. And the envelope full of money. And the guy who pushed you. What did the cops say when you told them about him?”

He looked down at the floor again.

“You didn't tell them?” I couldn't believe it. I started to stand. He grabbed my hand and pulled me back down.

“I told you, Robyn. That was an accident.”

“Really?” I said. I pictured the tall, blond guy smiling down at Nick's limp body lying on the road. “And when that girl from the bakery who you didn't know came to the hospital? Was that was an accident too?” I yanked my hand away.

“Come on, Robyn.”

“Don't lie to me, Nick.”

He studied me for a moment. “It's complicated.”

“I'm on the honor roll. I think I can handle complicated.”

He took both of my hands in his, held tight, and peered deep into my eyes. He looked more serious than I had ever seen him.

“I need your help,” he said. “I need you to do something for me.”

I waited.

“Before I tell you what it is, you have to promise me that, no matter what, you won't tell anyone.”

I hesitated. I liked Nick. Truthfully, I was pretty sure I loved him. And if you love someone, you'll do anything for them, right?

He tugged gently on my hands to make me look at him.

“Robyn? Promise?”

“I promise,” I said. And then I held my breath.

He glanced around. Then he struggled to his feet and worked his crutches under his arms.

“Where are you—?”

He held a finger to his lips. I watched as he struggled toward the door that led to the foyer and the stairs. He listened for a moment. I could hear Henri moving around upstairs and faint strains of music from her speakers. When Henri works, she always listens to music—usually the same piece of music over and over. Nick closed the door. He tried a turn on his crutches and almost lost his balance. Pain flashed in his eyes, but he righted himself and hobbled back to the table.

“I need you to deliver the money for me,” he said.

“
What?
” I must have said it louder than I'd intended because Nick glanced nervously at the closed door. I dropped my voice. “You mean the money you collected this morning?”

He nodded. “It has to be delivered. My ankle is killing me, Robyn. I don't think I've ever hurt so much in my life. Will you help me out? Will you deliver it?”

“To who? And why?”

“All you have to do is go to the parade tomorrow and hand it to a guy.”

“What's the money
for?
”

“That's not important.”

“Who's the guy?”

“That's not important, either.”

“What's in the other envelope?”

“What other envelope?”

“There's a sealed envelope in with the money.” Whatever was in it was stiff and squarish. “What's in it?”

“I don't know.”

I gave him a look.

“I swear it, Robyn. I don't know.”

I was getting a bad feeling. “Is it illegal, Nick?”

I hoped he would say no. I expected him to give me an evasive answer. But what he actually said was, “I don't know.”

“You don't know?”

“I didn't ask.”

“You spent the whole day collecting money, which you've agreed to deliver to
a guy
, and you don't even know if what you're doing is illegal?”

“I'm doing it as a favor.”

“Like the favor you were going to do for Joey?” Nick had tried to cover for his stepbrother Joey back in the summer. If the truth hadn't come out, Nick would have been locked up and Joey would have been free.

Nick fixed me with his eyes. “Okay,” he said. “I'll tell you. One night, a couple of years ago, I was out late. Later than I should have been. On account of Duane.” Duane. Joey's father, Nick's stepfather. The guy who had put the scar on Nick's face and made him an orphan. “And there were these guys. Tough guys. At least, they thought they were. And I was just a kid.

“They started in on me, you know? It was right downtown, but the streets were deserted. They gave me the line, ‘Your money or your life.' At first I thought they were kidding. But they weren't. I think they were on something, at least a couple of them. They started shoving. Then one hit me. The next thing I know I'm on the ground and these guys are kicking me. I thought I was going to die. I really did.”

I stared at him. I'd known him for a couple of months now, but he kept surprising me with things I didn't know, things I never could have imagined.

“And then, out of nowhere, there's this other guy. He's yelling at them. He's holding up a cell phone and telling them, ‘I called the cops; the cops are on their way.' And, I don't know, like I said, I think at least some of them were on something. They rush this guy and they start stomping him. They were really going on him. Then I saw lights and heard the cop cars coming. I'm not sure what happened next. I woke up in the hospital. My mother was there, crying. Joey too.” He tugged on his T-shirt, yanked it free of his belt and halfway up his back. He bent over. “See that?” he said.

There were two marks on his back, faded, but you could tell they had been deep when they were made.

“A guy with steel-toed boots did that to me. Broke three ribs. I was in the hospital for two weeks, at home for a month after that, with Duane the whole time acting like I was faking it.”

“What happened to the guy who helped you?” I said.

“He was a pizza delivery guy. Nineteen years old.” He shook his head. “He didn't make it.”

“Oh.”

“You know the restaurant where we had lunch today? The cook there is the guy's father. He came to see me in the hospital that time. We stayed in touch. I told him, ‘If there's ever anything I can do, all you have to do is ask. Anything.'” He looked down at the envelope. “Yesterday he asked. And I said yes. I didn't ask any questions. I owe him, Robyn. So what do you say? Will you help?”

I could understand why Nick felt a debt to this man. I could even understand why he agreed to deliver a lot of money to a mystery person at the Santa Claus parade. But was that a good enough reason for me to do something that didn't feel right?

“No,” I said.

“Come on, Robyn. I wouldn't ask if I didn't have to. But I can't do it myself. I can barely walk.”

He had been collecting money all day. I don't know how much it totaled, but it was a lot. So much cash, so much secrecy—it had to mean trouble.

“No,” I said again.

He slammed his fist down onto the table. “I knew I shouldn't have gotten you involved. I knew you would freak out if you found out about the money. You're so suspicious all the time. I should have asked Beej!”

Beej was a surly, spiky-haired girl with no fixed address. She was also a friend of Nick's, but her view of the world was even more cynical than his.

“So why didn't you?” I said, as angry as he was.

“Because I couldn't get in touch with her.”

“You mean, you tried?”

He didn't answer.

I thought about what he had just said: that he shouldn't have gotten me involved.

“You wanted someone with you today while you collected that money, didn't you?” I said. He didn't answer, but I saw a flicker of something in his eyes. “Why?” I said.

Still no answer.

What had the girl from the bakery asked? If Nick's accident really was an accident, or if someone had seen what he'd been doing?

“Was someone watching us today, Nick?” I said.

Nothing.

“The man who sent you to collect that money— he was worried you might be watched, right?” I said. I shook my head. That couldn't be it. If Nick had been worried that he was being watched, what good would it do him to drag me along? I thought back to what the girl had said in the hospital—“they want to know if it really was an accident, or if someone saw what they were doing.” What
they
were doing, not what Nick was doing.

“You're not the one who was afraid of being watched,” I said. “It was the people you were collecting money from.
They
were afraid someone would see.” But afraid of who? “They didn't want anyone to know they were giving you money, is that it? That's why you wanted me there—so we would look like a regular couple out shopping together. It's not like we're part of the community. It's not like anyone would think those people would hand money over to a couple of kids. Is that it?” It was the only thing that made sense. It also explained what he had said about Beej. “If you could have gotten in touch with Beej, you would have taken
her
with you, right?” He wouldn't even look at me, which told me what I needed to know. “Great. So, basically, I'm second string. You tried Beej first because you knew she wouldn't ask any questions. But you couldn't track her down.” Still nothing. “I haven't heard from you in ages. I thought you missed me. I thought you really wanted to see me. But you only called me because you couldn't get hold of Beej. Thanks a lot, Nick.”

Finally Nick raised his head. His eyes flashed with anger. “No. Thank
you
, Robyn. I need someone to help me out. And what do you do? You refuse. You keep telling me you care. You've got a funny way of showing it.”

We glared at each other, each of us mad for a different reason. I told myself there was nothing he could do to change my mind. Then: “I love you, Robyn, but I don't get you.”

“What?”

“I don't understand you. You live in this world where everything is perfect, where you never have to worry about what's going to happen tomorrow. You have this perfect mom and this perfect dad and they'd anything to make sure you're okay. But it's not like that in my world.”

Fine, except that I was still stuck on those three little words. “You said something else,” I said.

He gave me a blank look.

“Before you said you didn't get me. You said. . .” Maybe he hadn't meant it. Maybe it was just a throwaway line.

“I love you,” he said. Again. He took my hand. “I know you care about me, Robyn, even if I drive you crazy sometimes. I care about you too. But right now I need your help.” I looked deep into his eyes and saw a different Nick than the one the rest of the world saw. I didn't see the scar. I didn't see the long list of run-ins with the police. I didn't see the twelve months spent in custody. I didn't even see the lies. I just saw the Nick who said he loved me, the Nick I was pretty sure I loved back. The Nick who was perilously close to getting himself into deep trouble—there was no doubt in my mind.

“Okay,” I said. “I'll do it.”

I
t was a lie. I had looked right into Nick's eyes and I had flat-out lied. But from the relief on his face, I could tell he believed me. He gripped my hand and pulled me closer to him so that he could kiss me. I felt bad about that—he was kissing me because I had made a promise I had no intention of keeping. But I let him kiss me anyway. I told myself that I had lied for his own good, to protect him, to stop him from getting into trouble again.

“What exactly do I have to do?” I said, as soon as I could catch my breath.

“Practically nothing,” he said. “It's totally safe. I wouldn't ask you if it wasn't.” All I had to do was show up at the Santa Claus parade at noon the next day, along with tens of thousands of other people. I didn't have to stand in any particular location—“Just stay on the east side of the street,” he said, “somewhere in the middle of the crowd. You'll blend in that way.”

“How do I know who to give it to?”

“You don't have to worry about that. The person will find you. Can you grab the bag that's with my coat in the front hall?”

I retrieved the bag that I had brought from his apartment and handed it to him. He pulled out the pink hat and the folded-up paper shopping bag from a bookstore chain. Someone had stuck a big Christmas tree sticker over the store logo on one side of it.

“You wear this,” he said, holding up the hat. “And carry this.” The shopping bag. “The money will be in the bag.” He picked up the envelope I had thrown at him and dropped it in. “Someone will take it from you. That's it.”

“And you really don't know what this is all about?” I said.

He shook his head. “But I trust Mr. Li. And I owe him big. It'll be easy, Robyn. You'll see.”