I didn’t want to. Did I? I hadn’t had a real conversation with anyone since I got sent to DC, but something about this girl made me want to keep it going.
I was still trying to decide when Meg said, “How was your night at Jackson’s?”
Just like that, the walls inside me that had started to crumble went back up. This girl might have been struggling, but I couldn’t forget who her friends were. I was almost certain that sooner or later she’d give in and marry that asshole, if for no other reason than so she didn’t have to slum in places like this. I couldn’t even blame her. With the way the world was, you had to do whatever you could.
“Like a dream.” My voice had returned to its normal tone, coated in indifference. “Haven’t slept in a bed in a year, and never one that soft. If I’d gotten some food it would have made the place better than heaven.”
Meg frowned. “Jackson didn’t feed you?”
“It was late when I got up. He left me a plate of food, but my guards ate it.” I shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Dragon gave me a prepackaged meal.”
Meg shook her head a few times. “Speaking of Jackson….” She gnawed on her lower lip like she wasn’t sure what to say. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention that I got a job here.”
My shoulders stiffened. “What do you think happens when I’m at his house? You think I hang out in his room, gossiping about the settlement or some dumb shit like that?” My words were laced with more vengeance than this girl deserved, but I couldn’t stop it from spewing out. The idea that the Regulator’s prick son would ever stoop to having a conversation with me was the most absurd thing I’d ever heard.
“Of course not.” Meg glared at me, all the uncertainty of a moment ago gone in the blink of an eye. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t accidentally mention it in passing. Where I work is none of Jackson’s business, but he wouldn’t see it that way.”
“I guess he wouldn’t like the idea of his future wife slumming it, would he?” I held her gaze while I took a drink, so I didn’t miss the fire that blazed in her eyes.
“I’m not going to marry Jackson.”
I set my glass down, still watching her. “Why not?”
“Because we’re just friends. Which I already told you.”
“You have to admit it would make your life easier.” I lifted my eyebrows, challenging her to argue with me.
“Comparatively, yes. But I don’t love him, and I’m not dumb enough to think that marrying someone you’re not in love with wouldn’t bring on a whole new list of problems.”
“So you’re waiting for the fairy tale?” I almost rolled my eyes. Every time I thought I had a little bit of this girl figured out, she threw me for a loop. If she thought she—or anyone else for that matter—was going to find some magical happy ending, she was delusional.
Meg looked down, frowning at the marked-up bar top in front of her. “There’s no such thing as fairy tales.”
“No shit.” I snorted before finishing off my drink, then slid the empty glass over. I’d reached my limit of free drinks for the night, but she refilled it anyway.
“Don’t tell Dragon,” she said, looking around.
The bar had emptied out, most of the patrons having moved on to strip joints or pool halls now that the fights were over, and it made it easier for me to think. Plus, it gave me more time to study the girl in front of me.
Meg turned to help Glitter clean the glasses while Helen gathered the ones that had been left around the room. I sipped my drink, knowing I couldn’t take another free one from Meg, and watched as she learned her new duties. On first glimpse, the dress she wore wasn’t as revealing as Glitter’s, but now that I’d gotten a better look at it, I noticed that every time she stopped under one of the lights the fabric became almost transparent. I was sure she didn’t have a clue that the thing was as see through as it was, but I wasn’t about to tell her. The swell of her breasts and the curve of her ass were about the best things I’d seen in a year, and I was going to soak up every second of it while I could. The next dump these assholes dragged me off to probably wouldn’t have waitresses nearly as young or attractive as this one did.
“Need to come up with a side business.” Dragon’s voice boomed through the bar and I tore my gaze off Meg to find his dark eyes focused on Glitter. “How do you feel about stripping?”
The girl narrowed her eyes at him. “You know exactly how I feel about it.”
“Just asking.” Dragon winked as he shot her a toothless grin. “I thought you might have come to your senses.”
Glitter just snorted.
My back stiffened when the man’s gaze moved to Meg. It was ridiculous how protective I felt toward her. Insane. We barely knew each other, and here I was ready to jump up and snap that asshole’s neck the second he stepped out of line.
“Don’t even think about it,” Meg barked as she rinsed glasses in a bin of murky water.
Dragon let out a loud chuckle and turned his focus on Helen, who was leaning against the bar at his side.
The older waitress ran her fingers up his arm, grinning past the cigarette perched between her lips. “You know I’m up for anything.”
“Darling,” Dragon said, grabbing her hips so he could pull her against him. “If I thought the assholes who came into this place would be smart enough to appreciate you, I’d say go for it.”
“Men never know a good thing until it grabs them by the balls,” she said, emphasizing her point by grabbing Dragon’s crotch.
The man growled, and I turned away when he started dragging Helen across the room.
Glitter slid over to stand next to Meg, who had her tips from the night spread out in front of her. Seemed like a decent amount.
“You do okay tonight?” The girl with the pink hair nodded toward the stack of credits in Meg’s hand.
“I think so.”
She counted the bills while I took another sip of my drink. She’d done well, which wasn’t a surprise. She may not have the charm that Helen seemed to be an expert at turning on and off, or the dress that was barely a dress like Glitter, but Meg was sexy without even trying. Just standing there, gnawing on her lip while she stared at the stack of credits in her hand caused nasty thoughts to flip through my head.
It would be a bad idea, though. Me and her.
“I’m leaving in a week.”
It wasn’t until Meg looked up, her eyes full of questions, that I realized I’d said it out loud.
“What?”
“Shit,” I chuckled to myself while I downed the rest of my drink. “The alcohol must have pickled my brain. It’s been too long since I drank.”
Meg smiled, but she still looked confused.
“Where do you go after this?” Glitter asked, leaning her hip against the counter.
“Key West. It’ll be the first time I’ve ever seen the ocean.”
A smile lit up the young waitress’s face. “I’ve always wanted to see the ocean. Do you think it’s as blue as it is in pictures?”
“Can’t be.” I shook my head. “Nothing’s that clean-looking these days.”
Meg exhaled as she mimicked the other waitress’s stance, only she looked more exhausted. Like she needed the counter to hold her up while Glitter was just trying to relax.
“My mom grew up in California,” Meg said.
“California?” The name was distantly familiar, like a place I had once heard existed but had forgotten all about. “No settlements there, right?”
“No.”
“Let’s see,” Glitter lifted a few fingers. “There are settlements in Oklahoma, Texas, Key West, Dayton, Baltimore, Colorado, Minnesota, South Carolina, and here. Right?”
“Sounds about right,” I muttered.
She was forgetting the prison settlement in DC. It was a cesspool, and as far as I was concerned, we’d all be better off if everyone forgot it.
“I read an article in the National Newspaper last week about how they’re going to be building tr
ains soon.” Glitter turned her eyes on Meg. “Has Jackson’s dad mentioned that?”
“I don’t talk to the Regulator.” The tone of her voice made me look up. Meg was frowning, and there was something that looked a little bit like disgust in her eyes.
“Oh.” Glitter pressed her lips into a pout. “Dragon said it’s bullshit, but I don’t know. Wouldn’t it make everything easier if there were trains? We could move supplies more quickly, which would mean expanding the walls or making better living quarters.”
“Dragon’s right,” I said, pushing the stool back so I could stand. “It’s bullshit. But even if by some miracle they do end up building these trains, they sure as hell aren’t going to use them to make our lives better.”
Meg nodded like she agreed, but Glitter just frowned. The more I talked to the girl, the younger she seemed. Naïve too. It was as if someone had tried to protect her from everything in this world, or like she’d been hidden away for a lot of her life and hadn’t experienced much. It didn’t make sense though, not with the track marks on her arms.
“I’m beat,” I said, turning to face the door. “I hope those dumb ass guards of mine get here soon so I can hit the sack.”
Chapter Twelve
Meg
By the time I dragged myself out of the bar, I was pretty sure I knew exactly how the zombies felt: Dead on their feet. The street was dark, but not deserted, and the echo of music and voices bounced off the walls around me. It was impossible to tell where they were coming from, though. Here and there a glow broke through the darkness when someone lit a cigarette, and every shadow that moved seemed threatening.
I pulled my plaid shirt tighter against body and kept my head low as I walked. Thankfully, Donaghy and his guards were right behind me, because I hadn’t even made it to the end of the street before someone called out to me from the shadows.
“Fifteen credits for a blow.”
I reached for my knife, but before I’d even had a chance to wrap my fingers around it, Donaghy was at my side. “If you want to keep your dick intact, you’ll shut your mouth.”
The man, barely visible in the darkness, slinked back until he was nothing more than a memory.
“Thanks,” I said, shooting Donaghy a smile as I picked up the pace.
It was so dark that I could barely distinguish more than an outline of the man next to me, but I could see it when he nodded. “You’re welcome.”
We were silent once again as we moved side by side down the street. Donaghy’s body heat was oddly comforting. Not because the night was cold—it was hotter than hell on steroids—but because it once again reminded me of Dad and how soothing his silent presence had always been.
Maybe the two men shared more similarities than just a scar.
We reached the end of the street and turned right, but when we made it to the next intersection, I paused. My apartment building was in the northern part of the city, but Jackson’s house was south.
“I go this way,” I said, turning to face Donaghy.
The spotlights from the nearby wall were just bright enough to illuminate the intersection, but they also threw deep shadows across the area and made the man at my side seem twice as big. The fighter’s gaze moved from me to the street at my back, almost like he was trying to decide if it was safe enough for me to go on my own, and I appreciated it more than he’d ever know. I hadn’t felt like anyone cared what happened to me since Dad disappeared. Anyone other than Jackson, that was, and his concern could be suffocating at times.
“Maybe we should go with you,” Donaghy said, his icy eyes moving back to mine.
I opened my mouth to tell him that it wasn’t necessary, but before the words could make their way past my lips one of the guards stepped forward. “We don’t got time for that.”
With the shadows stretched across the street the way they were, it was impossible to know which one of the men said it, but I couldn’t miss the fury that flashed in Donaghy’s eyes just before he turned to face the men.
“You do what I say,” he hissed.
The man who’d spoken moved his hand toward his waist, and even though it was too dark for me to see what he was doing, I could only imagine that he was reaching for a weapon.
“It’s okay.” I stepped between Donaghy and his guards. “I know how to defend myself.” The uncertainty in the fighter’s expression probably had a lot to do with how we’d met, but I squared my shoulders. “I was raised by survivors. They taught me how to look out for myself.”
Donaghy’s hand wrapped around my wrist, firm but gentle at the same time. “Be careful.”
“I will.” My heart pounded so hard that I was sure it would send me into orbit.
“Let’s go,” the guard at my back growled.
Donaghy nodded, his gaze still holding mine. A second later his hand slipped away, and I turned to watch him follow his guards down the street.
Suddenly, I felt more alone than I had in my entire life. The darkness surrounding me seemed heavier somehow. Oppressive.
The fighter faded into the shadows, his form getting darker and darker until he was barely more than an apparition. Just before he disappeared, he glanced over his shoulder, and the look was enough to make every inch of my body hum.
When the three men disappeared for good, I turned away, heading toward my apartment. I had my knife out before I’d made it even a block. Just in case. Guns were prohibited inside the walls—even though everyone knew you could get them on the black market—but knives were a survival staple.
Unlike the entertainment district, this part of the city was silent. I passed apartment buildings with only a handful of windows illuminated, and businesses that were cloaked in silence. It stayed that way for two blocks, and then I turned the corner, making my way past the shantytown that led to my neighborhood. Most of the shacks I walked by were silent, but occasionally the hum of someone breathing or a moan of ecstasy broke through the quiet.
Tonight, the sound sent a shiver down my spine. Just twenty-four hours ago Jackson had been concerned that these same noises would flick some kind of switch inside me, and I had dismissed his worries like they were infantile. Now, though, as I passed a shack that’s walls were practically vibrating, heat flooded my body. It wasn’t a bad feeling, though. I wasn’t thinking about that asshole from the bathroom or what could have happened. No, I was thinking about Donaghy. About his intense gaze and how it had felt to have his body pressed against mine as we made our way into the dark basement. About his firm grip on my hips.
“Get a grip, Meg,” I whispered as I walked faster.
Despite my confrontation with Suzie yesterday and the stigma of living in the shantytown, I’d never felt threatened walking past these little shacks. Even now, nearly two o’clock in the morning with almost no light, I was walking fast more out of habit than fear. Most of the people living in these shacks didn’t want to hurt me. They were just trying to survive.
My apartment building came into view, and I slowed. Out front, leaning against the wall like he didn’t have anything better to do, stood Jackson.
“Shit,” I muttered as I worked to come up with an excuse as to why I was out this late.
There wasn’t a good one and I knew it. Other than Charlie, I didn’t have friends. Especially not any I would go to the entertainment district with, and based on the hour and my attire, there was no way I’d be able to convince Jackson that I’d been anywhere else.
My last name had always been a hindrance when it came to relationships. Often when people heard the name James they treated me like I was someone special, bending over backwards to do anything and everything for me. Other times, however, they avoided me. Whether it was because they didn’t know how to talk to the niece of the savior of the human race, or because they thought I was too good to talk to them, I wasn’t sure. I just knew that whenever someone new found out who I was, I had to prepare myself for one extreme or the other.
I was still fifteen feet away when Jackson push
ed himself off the building. “Where the hell have you been? I looked for you on the wall, but you weren’t there. I thought maybe you’d gone home to check on your mom, but she was out of her mind with worry when she answered the door.”
Out of her mind with worry, or just out of her mind?
“Charlie and I went out.” I pressed my lips together and held my breath, hoping that he bought the lie.
It was unusual, but it would be an easy lie to pass off. Charlie had stayed behind with her dad last night, which would explain her absence now, and I knew she’d be willing to lie for me if I asked her to. Plus, Jackson had been around long enough to know that Charlie was constantly begging me to go out with her.
“Why didn’t you call me?” I’d expected him to be hurt to learn that I’d gone out and not invited him, but instead something that sounded a lot like anger coated his words. Jealousy even. “Who else were you with?”
The accusation was as bright as day: he assumed I’d been out with another guy. I guess it was an easy assumption for him to make. The only other time during our friendship that I’d gone out with someone other than Jackson was when I’d dated Colton, and that hadn’t gone over well. In fact, Jackson had acted exactly like he was now. At the moment, I was too exhausted to sooth his ego. I’d never tried to lead Jackson on and I wasn’t about to start now.
“Jackson, I love you. You’re like a brother to me.” I exhaled, dragging it out while I chose my words. I wanted to tell him that he had no right to ask me questions or tell me what to do, but I doubted that would go over well. “This is getting to be too much. I need space. I need to be young and single and not feel like I’m constantly working to buffer your ego.”
It was the truth as plainly as I’d ever dared speak it, and even though there was some relief in saying the words, there was a part of me that was scared. Afraid of how he would react and what he would do. Which was nuts. This was Jackson. He was my friend.
“Seriously, Meg?” He took a small step toward me and I forced myself to hold my ground even though I wanted to shrink away from him. “I’ve done everything for you! I’ve been patient and understanding. I’ve listened to all your bullshit about how my dad isn’t doing everything he can for this settlement.” The venom in his voice was so thick that this time when he stepped toward me, I couldn’t stop myself from flinching away. He paused and looked me up and down before saying, “Are you scared of me?”
Twisted World Series Box Set | Books 1-3 & Novella Page 12
