Chapter 17

The door had not been opened wide for a week. It stood like the greatest barrier in Jeremy’s life, and as he stood at the other side of the door, he could not help but feel anger. How had things gotten to be so horrible? He had been there through it all, but even so, he still could not understand how it had all happened. This was the worst fall from grace he’d ever seen, and he hoped to never see it again.

“It’s no use, J. She was like this when I met her years ago, she’s like this now.” Dorian called from where he sat on his armchair at the sitting area, a book opened in his lap.

“Don’t call me that.” He replied simply. Ever since Dorian let loose the other side of him, it was as if the last barrier between the three men were gone, and they were almost like the best of friends. Of course, it certainly had something to do with the closed door. They had had gotten togeter many times througout the week, coming up with ways and means to open the door –short of breaking it down or climbing in the room through the windows.

They had even picklocked at the door, but it was apparent that it was blocked by something heavy, for they couldn’t even inch it open.

“We can only hope that this is temporary. She was like this for months, and she wouldn’t listen to anyone at all. She did come out, but when she did, it was all for food, and she didn’t even speak a single word.” Dorian explained as Jeremy walked dejectedly back from the door.

Dorian had been secretly amused by the reactions both Jeremy and Hayden gave at Hayley’s solitude. They had initially been panicked, then very worried, and now, Jeremy seemed desperate. Of course, Dorian felt those emotions first, but having had been through the same ordeal before, he had calmed down faster than the other two had, and left the idea of trying to force her out of the room.

Hayley was nothing if not a con. She knew how to keep people away, how to manipulate people’s feelings. And, without knowing, she had manipulated Jeremy and Hayden’s emotions. Jerlyn and Mabel had stopped by a few times to help too, but none of their voices and words got through to her.

What could they do? Get on with their lives, of course.

 Dorian, Jerlyn and Mabel continued to run their cons, and hadn’t been flashed the red-light by FBI so far. He was beginning to learn the workings of cons away from Hayley’s style and found Jerlyn and Mabel’s style quirky and fun, yet dangerous and risky. But he guessed that was the way they worked –they relied heavily on their skills and instincts to play themselves.  Unlike Hayley, Dorian found that they had no actual detailed plans, but just sketchy ideas of everything. They were the perfect duo to work with in terms of teaching Dorian on impromptu acts.

Mabel hadn’t seemed like the type initially, but with Jerlyn’s influence, once they were in the field, Dorian had watched as Mabel ended up conning a pair of dirty old businessmen by flashing her assets to save their operation.

Hayden, on the other hand, had gone back to being Rainer’s perfect CI. He closed cases and he waited for things to boil down. He knew Rainer was watching his every move, waiting for him to show signs that he was returning to the  con world. Instead, Hayden put himself dedicatedly to FBI, performing his part of a CI with no problems. He gave constructive comments, and closed a few cases –one of which that got him undercover and running a low-leveled con. He had been surprised when Rainer offered the idea of him using his cover to con, actually amused that he would be allowed to do what he did best –con. Of course, he recognised that Rainer was testing him if he would defer, and he gave the perfect performance that even his dead parents would have applauded at.

Rainer didn’t ask about Annabel Francis, but Hayden saw in those eyes that he was curious as hell. Hayden had told his handler that Annabel had met with heavy fever and was taking the time to truly rest –thus explaining her total lack of contact.

Everyone had their lives to continue on. Everyone had built their life somewhere away from this place.

Except for Jeremy. Jeremy’s presence in NYC could only be explained by Hayley, and yet, she was shutting him out. He had nothing to do –for he could not con with the level of alert his name and aliases were placed on the FBI lists. Jeremy could only stare at the door, plan what they would do to get Hayden out, then stare at the door for a longer time. Needless to say, Jeremy was bored out of his wits.

His fingers itched, his soul wanted nothing more than to slide up smoothly to a countertop and twist the internal thinking of a cute girl working as a secretary at a large company. But he couldn’t. Not anymore in New York, where it was his paradise. Instead, paradise had turned into hell, for he was now confined within four walls, bound and shackled by his own consience and concern for this female acquaintance that he wasn’t sure if he was simply just friends with anymore.

“Hey, are you listening?” Dorian’s slightly raised voice snapped him back to reality, and Jeremy tried his best to not think of exactly how much he wanted to con again. Though not born a con like Hayden and Hayley into the Seyfried family, Jeremy found that he lived for his profession. He couldn’t imagine himself ever without conning. His entire character, his image, the internal workings of his complex mind were all built around the fact that he was a  con by heart. In this mind, there was nothing he could be, except a con.

“I’m sorry, what?” He asked, a somewhat apologetic look on his face. Dorian knew that face was made out of sheer politenes, and he saw that Jeremy’s eyes were still far away, in his own recollection.

“How do you think about helping me recreate Massacre? Working with Mabel and Jerlyn puts my schedules in crazy disarray.” Dorian suggested, and snickered when Jeremy’s almost-dead-eyes lit up instantly.

“A chance to do something except sit here and do nothing? I’m all in, Dory-boy.” Jeremy replied the smirk when Dorian’s face pulled into a scowl  at his nickname that had been given to him by his teacher. When Hayley called him Dory, Dorian had always felt secretly glad that she cared enough to give him a nickname –albeit a feminine, slightly cute one.

When Jeremy called him that, however, he just felt like punching the man.

“Call me that again, and you’re not even going to see Massacre.” Dorian threatened, and even though Dorian was considered Jeremy’s junior in terms of experience, he knew he had leverage over the man who was dying and itching to do something other than sitting and staring at the closed white doors. Silently, Dorian suspected that Jeremy would go crazy long before Hayley would –by her form of solitude.

“Fine, I apologise, Dor-” There was a deliberate pause by the latter, in which Dorian spied him suspiciously, waiting for the last syllable to escape from his lips.

“By any chance, do you want a perfect copy of Massacre, or do I have to make some subtle mistake? I fear I will be setting too high standards for you practice at your subsequent forgeries.” Jeremy interrupted himself, as if suddenly finding that he would die if he didn’t ask that question. But with the smirk on his face? Dorian knew exactly what the con-starved man was up to.

“Finish the name, J. Don’t try to sidetrack me. We’re not discussing about you recreating Massacre until you get my name right.” Dorian threatened, but Jeremy shook his head in reply.

“Then stop calling me ‘J’. You’re not getting my name right either.” The man negotiated.

Dorian watched the man who was the top con of NYC carefully. He closed the book he had in his lap and stood up, smoothing out the imaginary creases in his casual collared shirt that perfectly accentuated his chest muscles.

“Well then, I had better get going before Massacre gets stolen by someone else. Do you know where I can get some good brushes and acrylic?”

Jeremy followed the man to the door, losing his leverage. “Wait, you do know that Massacre was before acrylics?”

Dorian pretended to be utterly surprised, deliberately taunting and inciting the poor leashed conman further. “It was?  Well, that’s a problem.”

“You’re going to screw your job up, man. Give it to me, I’ll do it perfectly for you. I don’t want Hayley to lock herself up again when she finds you caught by FBI for your lousy artwork.” Jeremy held the door open, watching as Dorian began to make his way down the corridor to the lift, desperation beginning to rise.

“It’s okay, I can get Hayden to give me some tips. He’s done Massacre before.”

That was true, and Jeremy knew it. Here he stood, watching his only chance to satisfy his craving walk away.

“Fine! Fine. I’ll not call you Dory, alright? Just let me do the damned job!” He conceded, knowing what he had lost a battle of wits with Dorian. This guy was good. He saw inches of the way Hayley persuaded people in him.

Dorian stopped in the middle of the doorway, turning around with a victorious smirk.

“You can start with the Massacre anytime now. I’ll contact you when I need it.” Dorian informed, and that was his only way of showing that he’d submitted.

“You’re an ass, Dor. A great, big asshole.” Jeremy said unhappily and slammed the door. One day, Dorian was going to pay for playing him a con.

 One day, Jeremy was going to be free from all this.

And one day, Jeremy was going to make the biggest con of his life, and get a seat on The Circle with Hayley Seyfried.

Then, he would laugh at Dorian.