I paced up and down the kitchen, my mind in turmoil. As if this day wasn't already complicated enough. As if I need any more problems. Now, on top of everything else, I had an estranged family to deal with, as well as a very determined billionaire who wanted to recruit me into some kind of private, shape shifter police force with extremely vague intentions. This was just... it was too much. I felt like my head was going to explode. Literally.
"Cyprus," my mom said, watching me pace. "Can you talk to me, please?"
"Mom, I need to think."
"What happened this morning?"
"It'll take too long to explain. You heard him. I only have ten minutes."
"Do you want to go with them?" she asked, eyes still tracking me up and down the kitchen.
"No," I said automatically. Then I thought of my father and brother, all the questions they could answer. "Yes. I don't know. I don't know what I want."
Well, actually, I did. I wanted to go back in time and make it so this whole day had never happened. I wanted to worry about normal stuff like exams and getting into college. I wanted to be a semi-normal teenager like I had been yesterday. But, clearly that ship had sailed. More than that, it had fallen off the edge of the earth, never to be seen or heard from again.
At this point, what I didn't want seemed far more important. I didn't want to leave home. The idea of leaving my mom here by all herself was eating away at my insides. We had been on the verge of homelessness last year, what with prices sky-rocketing while her wages remained stagnant. If not for the part-time job I had been able to snag, we might have ended up on the street. What would happen to her without me? How could I just leave her like this?
Because you don't have a choice, that's why. I thought, answering my own question. I was leaving, that much was inevitable. There was no way around it. However, that didn't mean I had to abandon her completely.
I thought of what Mr. Connelly had said. His promises to make me insanely rich. Wasn't that what I had been aiming for all these years? Well, not to be rich, necessarily, but to have enough money to survive? To live without the constant threat of homelessness hanging over our heads?
Of course, I would have to complete my training first, but, after that... we'd never have to worry about money again. That idea was intensely, intoxicatingly tempting...
On the other hand, how did I know I could take Mr. Connelly at his word? I didn't trust the man as I could throw him. What if he was just trying to lure me into some kind of trap?
Besides, even if he was telling the truth. Even if everything happened exactly as he had described it, there was still the issue of my mom's ridiculous, stubborn pride. It had taken weeks of arguing just to convince her to accept half of my measly paycheck. Even if I became unimaginably rich, there was a good chance that she would refuse to accept a single dime.
Maybe I was better off with the Silent Heroes. Regardless of all the things Mr. Connelly had said, regardless of my estranged brother and father, it was easily the most sensible choice. I trusted them far more than I trusted this Mr. Connelly person...
But... then there was the issue of the lawsuits. The criminal charges. Something Mr. Connelly had said he could fix with a snap of his fingers, while Isaac had done nothing so far except dodge around the topic....
Daaahhh! I pressed my hands against either side of my head, as if trying to hold it together. Keep it from breaking up into a thousand pieces.
I didn't know! I didn't know what to do.
Okay, Cyprus, get a grip, I told myself. This panicky thinking wasn't exactly helpful. There had to be something... something that could help me decide... some angle to all this I wasn't seeing...
I thought back to everything I knew about Mr. Connelly... everything my mom had told me about him. In all honesty, I wanted to remember something incriminating. Something that would justify turning him down, besides my intense dislike of the man.
Unfortunately nothing came to me. I only knew a few basic facts, really. He was the third richest man in the world... he was a massive, throbbing jerk, but that was hardly incriminating. He drove around in a limo... my father was his CEO... he owned the company my mom worked for...
I stopped pacing so abruptly I almost fell over.
That was it! The solution was staring me right in the face. How had I not seen it before?
"Cyprus?" my mom was looking at me with concern. "Are you all right?"
"Just a sec, mom."
I cross the kitchen one more time and stuck my head out the front door. My brother Dominic was on the lawn, tossing his golden sphere into the air with one hand and catching it with the other.
"What's goin' on, sis?" he said casually.
"Err... hey." I said stupidly. I had no idea how to talk to this guy. What did you say to your long lost sibling anyway? "Can you... do you know where...?"
"They're in the limo," he said, pointing. "Why, have you made your decision?"
"Yeah," I said. "I have."
Eve
Dealing with media was easily my least favorite part of this whole being famous business. They drove me absolutely insane. They called me at all hours of the night and day. The asked me the same damn questions over and over again. They asked things about my personal life that they had absolutely no business knowing. And they were irritatingly persistent on top of that.
One woman, after repeatedly failing to land an interview with me, tracked down my parents instead. This being the early days—before my parents had moved to an unlisted address—my mom happily invited her in for a chat, apparently under the impression that the reporter was a friend of mine from school. She told the reporter all these embarrassing stories from when I was a kid. Like the time I got drunk off cough medicine. Those same stories had been making the rounds on news and social media ever since. People thought they were cute, apparently.
Cute. Yeah right. I would give them cute.
But, possibly just as annoying were the days like this. When I was the one contacting the media instead of the other way around. Because, more often than not, the conversation always started the exact same way. Kinda like the one I was stuck in right now.
"Wait, so... you're Evelyn O'Connor?"
"Yes."
"The Evelyn O'Connor?"
"That's right."
"The Wildcat?"
"Yup."
"The leader of the Silent Heroes?"
"I'm not the leader."
"The crazy bird-girl who jumped off a cliff?"
"That's me."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Seriously?
"Yes."
"No!"
"Yes! Now, I'm calling to-"
"Hey, guys!" the man's voice cut me off, speaking away from the receiver. "Guys! Come here! You'll never guess who's on the phone! It's Evelyn O'Connor! Yes! Yes, it's really her! I swear! I know, that's what I said!"
I tilted my head back and rolled my eyes towards the ceiling. This was going to be a very long afternoon.
I finished the call as quickly as possible, giving the same speech I was giving all the media outlets. We were looking into what had happened with Cyprus, we had the situation under control and no one had been killed in the earthquake (people had already begun speculating on a death count).
As I finished up my tedious speech, I felt hands circle my waist. Fortunately, this time, they weren't ice-cold.
"Having fun?" Reza said, a note of teasing in his voice.
"Are you kidding?" I hung up while the guy continued to babble excitedly to his co-workers. "I'm losing my mind, here. I need to go chase some drug dealers or something. Clear my head."
Reza laughed. "Yeah, last night was fun."
I felt a blush creeping onto my face. He was standing very close. I wasn't really sure what was going on with Reza. We had kissed a few times and little moments like this—where we felt almost like a couple—kept randomly popping up. But, things were always so insanely busy we never got a chance to explore things any further than that.
"Hey, how did you get out of this torture?" I asked, hoping he didn't notice my blush.
"Oh, Jewel took over for me."
"Jewel?"
My eyes were drawn to the far end of the conference room. Jewel—short and slim with a pixie hair-cut—sat back in her chair, feet propped up on the table. She held a phone in one hand while the other toyed with one of the silver hoops in her left ear. "Now listen, you numbskull. When I say there were no fatalities, I mean there were no fatalities. Do you have cotton in your ears? Or is that stick just shoved so far up your ass it's giving you brain dam- ow!"
Deanna—another member of the team with long blonde hair and icy blue eyes—had given her a smack on the head. "A little diplomacy please, Jewel."
"Hey, I can't help it if people are stu- ow! Cut that out!"
Reza made a sound in his throat like he was trying to suppress a laugh. "I think she's doing an excellent job, don't you?"
"Oh yeah, great. Really spectacular."
"I sense a little sarcasm, Eve."
"That's very observant of you, Rez." I was struggling to keep a straight face. My cruddy mood had evaporated. Amazing how he was always able to do that.
I looked surreptitiously around the room. Everyone was spaced several feet apart, making one phone call after another. No one seemed to be paying me and Reza any attention.
Maybe we could sneak out for a bit. Just an hour or two. Go for a walk or something...
But, even as these tempting thoughts drifted through my mind, Isaac stepped into the room. He quickly zeroed in on me, his face all business.
Crap, I thought.
"Evelyn, there's someone here to see you. A Corporal Williams? He say's he's with the military."
I groaned. "Oh no, not him again."
"You've spoken before?"
"He called twice already."
"Well, he's quite insistent. I think you may want to speak with him."
"Why?"
"Because it might have something to do with Cyprus."
Cyprus
I sat nervously across from Mr. Connelly, my father and brother once again seated on either side of him. I had made up my mind. I knew what I had to do. Unfortunately, my plan required a certain amount of... assertiveness on my part. I needed to hold my ground and stand up to this giant, throbbing jerk. And standing up to giant, throbbing jerks wasn't exactly my strong suit.
"Well, Miss. Griffin?" Mr. Connelly watched me expectantly, his expression hard. "Dominic tells me you've made a decision."
I fidgeted in my chair and wiped sweat off my upper lip. Why did I have to be so freaking nervous? Why couldn't I be brave for once in my life? I wasn't even asking for very much. My request would be downright pitiful to someone like him. But, the way my heart was pounding, I might as well have been demanding custody his first-born child.
"Yes," I said. "Well... I mean... sort of."
Mr. Connelly raised his eyebrows at me. "Sort of?"
"I umm... I have conditions."
Mr. Connelly stared at me for a good thirty seconds. "Conditions?"
"Yes... well... just one condition, really."
"Miss. Griffin, I am offering you free private schooling, free room and board and the opportunity to become rich beyond your wildest dreams. Are you saying that's not enough for you? Are you telling me you want more?"
It took a huge amount of effort, but I forced myself to straighten my spine and look him dead in the eye. "Yeah, I'm getting a good deal, but then so are you. You're getting me. You know, the magnificent hybrid, or whatever you called me. The only one of my kind that ever existed. You wouldn't have offered me all those things unless you really wanted me on your team, right?"
Mr. Connelly looked like he might be regretting his words. "All right, Miss. Griffin. What's your condition?"
I felt more sweat forming on my upper lip but I kept my hands clenched firmly under the table. I didn't want him to see that I was shaking. "My mom works for one of your companies."
"Cyprus," my mom, who was seated next to me, quickly grabbed my hand. "What are you doing? You can't-"
"It's fine, Mom. Don't worry."
"Honey, you don't have to..."
'They treat her like crap," I went on stubbornly. "They make her work night shifts. Double shifts. They make her work over-time without pay and they haven't given her a raise in twelve years."
"Cyprus, I don't think you should-"
"So, your condition is what, exactly, Miss. Griffin?" Mr. Connelly asked. His expression was impossible to read. "You want me to fix the situation? Give her a raise? Regular hours? Maybe a promotion?"
My mom tried to interject again. "Cyprus, really-"
"Yes," I replied. "That's exactly what I want."
Mr. Connelly drummed his fingers lightly against the table. He didn't look angry, just thoughtful. Yet, I sensed a chill coming off him. Like something about my request rubbed him the wrong way. "Are you telling me how to run my business, young lady?"
"No," I said, my voice surprisingly calm. "I'm just giving you my terms. Take them or leave them."
There was a long pause. Mr. Connelly continued to gaze thoughtfully at me. I forced myself to stare back. To express confidence I didn't feel. But, in all honesty, I didn't like the look on his face. It felt like something had shifted in the air between us. I couldn't think, why, though. It was a simple enough request, wasn't it?
Unless he saw this as some kind of power play. Was that it? Did he think I was challenging him in some way?
"All right, Miss. Griffin," he reached across the table, offering me his hand. "You've got yourself a deal."
I hesitated for just a split second, but in that time a million different doubts and questions raced through my mind. Was I doing the right thing? Was this guy really going to keep his word? What if I was making a huge mistake? What if this all blew up in my face?
Mr. Connelly cleared his throat a little, his hand still extended.
"Good," I heard myself speak as if from a million miles away. I saw my hand reach out to accept his as if someone else were controlling my movements. "Then I'm going with you."