“We can’t steal a car.”
If Violet’s volume increased any further, Lee would have to remind her that hotel walls were essentially paper.
Austin leaned against one of said walls and rolled a can of peanuts between his hands. “Sure we can, I just told you. I haven’t hot-wired anything since high school, but once you know how, you know how. I’m not going to blow up or—”
“That’s not why we can’t.” Violet pulled her feet up to sit cross-legged at the foot of Marcus’s bed, the only bed. She swiveled to face him. “Come on, Marcus. You do the right thing, I know you do. From experience.”
Marcus didn’t cringe away from Violet’s invasion of his space, simply studied her. “This isn’t the same.”
The same as setting Violet free last summer, despite her status at the time as a Constabulary spy, because the alternative was kidnapping. Marcus was right. Their current situation robbed someone of an object, not a choice.
“Close enough,” Violet said. “It’s doing something wrong to get what you want.”
“We don’t want a car.” Austin juggled the peanut can back and forth, low in front of his body. “We need one.”
“Good grief, Austin, you’re a cop.”
“Theft isn’t my jurisdiction.”
Violet marched into his space and took the can. “Are you serious?”
“If we’re talking about what I should be doing according to the oath I took—you really don’t want to go there.”
They stood too close, matching glares and wills, the silence a wick that sparked toward detonation. Lee uncurled from her position in the stuffed chair and set her feet on the floor. Business at hand. No more, no less.
“All right,” she said. “We need a vehicle, and we don’t have the means to purchase one.”
Austin shrugged. “I don’t understand why we’re still debating it.”
Neither did she. If their method was democracy, Violet had already lost. Lee nodded to Austin. “Do it.”
Violet stared at Marcus, who met her eyes but said nothing. After a moment, she turned her back to all of them, ducked her head, then squared her shoulders, and headed for the door.
Austin pushed away from the wall. “Where’re you going?”
Violet spoke without facing them. “The hallway. The vending machine, I don’t know. Look, I’m not going to pull a Khloe. Obviously, I’m coming with you, whether it’s in a stolen car or not. But I need to … think about this and talk to Jesus for a little bit.”
Austin swiped a key card from the table and pressed it into her hand. The door shut after her with a quiet click.
He tossed the peanut can in his hand and caught it. “She needs to stop talking about Jesus.”
Marcus didn’t move from against his pillows, but his glare emanated heat across the room.
“Jesus is legal,” Lee said.
“Her version obviously isn’t if you listen to her talk about Him for more than thirty seconds.”
“You have?”
“A road trip means a lot of conversation, and she trusts me. But I think she’d say the same things to someone she didn’t trust. One more reason to get out of here, especially with Agent Baldy patrolling the streets.”
Yes. Time to act. Lee pressed her palms to the arms of the chair. “Find the most dilapidated car you can and hotwire it.”
“No.” Marcus flexed and stretched his good leg. “It might be uninsured and the only car they have. Find something newer.”
“Am I doing this now?” Austin was already halfway to the door.
“Better than broad daylight.”
“Right.” He opened the door.
He was halfway into the hall when Marcus’s voice fell like a gavel. “Wait.”
Austin slipped back inside and let the door close. “Yeah?”
Marcus sighed, shook his head. “We can’t.”
Austin crossed his arms and waited. For Lee to argue instead of him? She’d oblige.
“Why not?” She let the words snap.
“Because.”
Of course his sense of morality had anchored itself to biblical principles once he embraced Christianity, but he was driven by other things as well, sometimes equally, sometimes more so. Things like the protection of those he cared about. Stealing a car was necessary for their safety. He couldn’t protest it.
“We won’t be endangering anyone, merely inconveniencing them.”
“That’s not the point,” he said.
“You believe God will hold it against you as a sin.”
“Lee—”
“Enduring torture for Him earns you no leniency.”
“God doesn’t …”
He said more, but a roaring grew louder in her head. She knew well what God didn’t do. He didn’t esteem Marcus’s sacrifice. Didn’t allow him freedom, only one state’s border away. She pushed up from the chair and stalked to the window. Her fingers tried to wring themselves out until one of her nails caught the other hand and broke skin.
“Lee.”
The gentling of his voice wasn’t necessary. She was fine. Marcus, on the other hand—“You continue to cling to Him, of course.”
The corner of Lee’s eye, the corner of her mind, acknowledged that Austin was standing against the door, the peanut can motionless in his hands. But his presence couldn’t matter in this moment. Marcus didn’t give him a glance, either. He drew up his good knee as though he’d try to get out of bed. His eyes burned into Lee. This was not the new Marcus of sharp silences, nor the old Marcus whose convictions and heart blazed behind his eyes. This Marcus was himself a fire, and Lee was seared.
“I prayed,” he said.
Of course you did.
“For all of you, for protection. I couldn’t do it, so I said—God, all of them. Hold them—” He extended his left hand, cupped and shaking. “Safe. Like this. I—I held my hand out. I said, please. And if nobody else, then Lee. Please, God.”
Lee’s entwined fingers spasmed against each other.
Marcus swept the heel of his hand over both cheeks though his eyes were dry. “He held you all.”
No. You do not hold me. I won’t allow You to. Her safety was her own doing.
“So if …” Marcus strained for another breath. “If He could keep you safe then, He can now, too. Some other way … that honors Him.”
She could ignore his wishes. Austin would back her, and Violet wouldn’t challenge her. If Austin carried Marcus to a stolen car and deposited him inside, Marcus couldn’t fight back. The image was an IV of ice water. Lee couldn’t make him helpless. She could steal a car without a prick of conscience, but she couldn’t steal his choice.
“All right,” she said. “Some other way.”
But there wasn’t one, and judging from the slam of the peanut can onto the desk in the corner, Austin knew it too.