Twisted World Series Box Set | Books 1-3 & Novella

by Mary, Kate L.

  “No.” My voice shook, giving me away, and even though it was dark, I swear I saw a little bit of glee in Jackson’s eyes.

  All day my brain had been so full of Donaghy that I couldn’t help comparing the two men right now. Jackson was the son of someone powerful and my closest friend, but there were times when I felt like a switch inside him flipped, and I couldn’t help wondering if he’d been playing a part this whole time. Like he was hoping I’d fall for the charade long enough to get trapped in his web. Donaghy, however, was a convict, but being with him made me feel secure in a way that I’d never felt with anyone other than a family member. Almost like I knew that the fighter would do anything he could to keep me safe. Even risk his own life.

  Did I think Jackson would do that?

  No. I didn’t.

  “I’m not afraid of you,” I said, squaring my shoulders even though something in the back of my head told me I should be. “And I’m not going to let you bully me into being in love with you, either. I don’t know who I want, or if I will ever want anyone, but I know you aren’t the right person for me.

  “I’m not trying to bully you,” he whispered, the words pushing their way through his teeth and sounding a lot like the hiss of snake.

  “I know.” I reached out, my hand shaky, but he backed away. “I want to be your friend, Jackson, but if that isn’t enough for you, then maybe we need to spend some time apart.”

  I pressed my lips together while Jackson stared at the ground. His jaw twitched and his hands were clenched into fists. It only took thirty seconds for him to turn away from me. His eyes were still down and something about him reminded me of how Donaghy looked when he was in the ring, right before he ripped a zombie apart.

  Jackson didn’t even look back at me when he said, “I don’t know why I wasted all these years on you. I’m Jackson Star. Who are you? Nobody. You may have the last name, but you don’t have the blood. You’re nothing.”

  The sting of his words was sharp and painful. He didn’t look back once as he headed down the road and into the dark night. Even though the shantytown didn’t scare me, I tensed when he reached the edge. He was right about one thing, he was Jackson Star, and I had no doubt that there were plenty of people in those shacks who would slit his throat and piss on his corpse and not lose any sleep over it.

  I stayed where I was, my fingers flexed around my knife until he had finally disappeared around the corner. Once he was out of sight, I exhaled and headed into my building. Thankfully, the elevator was working, and once I was inside I pulled off my heels and wiggled my toes. Tomorrow I was going to have to make sure Charlie covered for me with Jackson or anyone else who asked, but I’d worry about that later. Right now, all I wanted to do was get some sleep.

  The lights on our floor flickered as I headed down the hall, and I braced myself for a fight when I opened our front door. The apartment was silent though, and I’d only taken one step inside when I realized why. Mom was passed out on the couch, fully dressed and snoring with her mouth hanging open.

  Something about it brought to mind the time Charlie, Luke, and I had gotten our hands on a bottle of moonshine. We’d been young—Luke and I just fifteen, and Charlie only thirteen—and by the time the booze was gone, Charlie had been passed out on the floor, her mouth hanging open just like Mom’s was now. Only, that couldn’t be right. Mom didn’t drink. Her dad had been an alcoholic, and so had Dad’s mom. Booze had always been a rarity in our house.

  I sighed as I slipped my knife back into its sheath. “I’ll get her to bed, then I’ll sleep.”

  When I shook Mom’s shoulder, her lips moved and she shifted, but she didn’t open her eyes. If I didn’t know better, I’d have wondered if someone had drugged her.

  “Mom,” I said, kneeling at her side. Once again, it was useless.

  It took everything in me to lift her off the couch. She was dead weight, but manageable since she was nothing but skin and bones at this point. Her head flopped to the side when I lifted her, straining under the weight, but I made it to the bedroom.

  There I dropped her on the bed, and when her head flopped to the side for the second time, there was something about it that hit me as wrong. I couldn’t seem to wrap my brain around the situation, though. People didn’t sleep this soundly. Not without drugs of some kind. Only, there were no drugs in this house. I knew because I’d torn the place apart looking for any credits that might have been hidden away by my parents. And I seriously doubted that Mom had left the apartment so she could buy some. She was way too freaked out to risk going out there. But what other explanation could there be? Nothing that I could think of.

  I closed my eyes and exhaled. “I’ll see you in the morning,” I muttered as I headed out of the room, shutting the door behind me.

  In my own room I stripped, leaving my dress on the floor when I crawled under the covers. The bed was warm and inviting, and my body heavy with the need to sleep. But my brain was humming. Thinking about my new job, coworkers, and most of all Donaghy. The fighter. The convict. The person who had saved me and had a scar just like my father’s. For some reason, I couldn’t get him out of my head.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Donaghy

  My guards were on my ass to walk faster the whole way back to the Regulator’s house, and even though I was so tired I could barely lift my feet, I kept my pace slow. The last thing I was going to do was give these assholes what they wanted.

  The walk was kind of nice, too. Atlanta was silent but active. The apartments we passed hummed with life even though there was really no audible noise. I couldn’t explain it, really. I just knew that there was a peacefulness to this city that didn’t exist in DC.

  There it was never silent. The population was restless. Waiting. Like everyone slept with one eye open, either looking for their chance to get out or expecting someone to try and slit their throat in the night. Almost an entire year I spent there, and not once did I wake up feeling rested.

  Here, though, it was different. And it wasn’t just because of my temporary room in that mansion. This was a real city. It may have been depressing at times, and it was definitely oppressed by this shit show of a government that had sprung up, but the people here had a fighting chance.

  We made it back to the Regulator’s house, which was silent and slightly cold compared to the rest of the city, and the second I set foot inside I was ready to crawl into bed. Here I had it slightly better than my guards, which was something special. They had to curl up on mats outside my door while I got a real bed. Usually, it would be the other way around. Me sleeping on the floor while they got cots.

  “Up the stairs,” the younger of the guards said through a yawn. “And you better sleep in again. I’m dead tired.”

  I didn’t miss how bloodshot his eyes had looked when he picked me up at Dragon’s, or how vacant his companion’s were. The older man hadn’t said a word since we left the bar. Whatever he was on must have been some strong shit.

  I trudged up the stairs, not because these assholes wanted me to, but because now that I was in the house, I couldn’t stop thinking about how soft that damn bed was. Honestly, I could have died in it and been happy.

  The creak of hinges made me pause at the top of the staircase, and I held my breath when footsteps pounded down the hall in my direction.

  “Jackson?” The booming voice was familiar, but in my tired state it took me a moment to figure out where I’d heard it. This morning when I was in the kitchen, this asshole and the dude who had sounded like he was talking out of his nose had discussed some serious shit.

  The memories were enough to wake me up.

  “No,” I said, the word almost getting caught in my throat.

  The man came into view, and the second I saw him I almost busted out laughing. His voice might have been deep, but he was small. Almost a foot shorter than me and probably not much taller than Meg. His shoulders were broad and he carried himself like he owned the world, but I knew without a doubt that I c
ould take him down with one punch to the gut.

  He stopped in front of me and the light from downstairs was just bright enough to illuminate his face. His son resembled him a lot, although younger and a hell of a lot bigger. They had the same good looks that would make most women spread their legs without a second thought, and an air of importance that probably made men follow them with no questions asked.

  “You must be the fighter.” He blinked while he searched for my name. “Donaghy?”

  I cleared my throat. “Yeah.”

  The Regulator stuck his hand out. “Good to meet you. My son told me about what happened in the bar. Horrible business. I have a mind to shut the whole entertainment district down, but you wouldn’t believe what a resistance I’ve gotten to that idea. It’s a damn shame.”

  I stared at his outstretched hand for a second too long and his eyes clouded over. Like his son, this man gave off a creepy vibe, only it wasn’t as intense as Jackson’s.

  “Thanks,” I said when I finally took his hand in mine. “I appreciate the room.” My tone came out less enthusiastic than I wanted, but the Regulator didn’t seem to care.

  “Anytime.” He dropped my hand and looked past me, past my guards and down the stairs. “I thought you were my son.”

  “Haven’t seen him,” I said even though he wasn’t asking me where Jackson was.

  The Regulator nodded twice, his eyes still looking past me. When he waved to the hall at his back, everything about him was dismissive. “I’m sure you’re tired.”

  “Yeah,” I said, moving past the small man with my fists clenched. “Thanks.”

  The Regulator didn’t answer, but I didn’t give a shit.

  Staggered and shuffling footsteps followed me to my room, and before I’d even had a chance to open the door, both of my guards had plopped down on their mats. Briefly I considered giving the older one a kick in the gut as payback for this morning. He probably wouldn’t even remember it in the morning. Instead, though, I turned toward my room.

  I froze when the sound of the front door opening cut through the silence in the house. My own door was cracked, allowing me to hear it a second later, the Regulator’s deep voice echoed up to me.

  “Where the hell have you been?”

  “Out,” Jackson snapped at his father.

  “Don’t raise your voice to me,” the Regulator said.

  His son sighed. “I’m not trying to fight. It’s late. I’m tired and I had a shitty night.”

  “Fine.” Footsteps moved through the house, getting closer. “I met the convict you brought to my house. Honestly, Jackson, I know why you thought it was a good idea, but it wasn’t. His guards are so wasted he could plow right over them, then slit our throats while we slept. You need to think things through a little better in the future.”

  “Shit. I forgot the asshole was here.” The footsteps stopped. “Well, he can go back to Dragon’s tomorrow. I’m starting to think this whole thing with Meg has been a waste of time.”

  “The girl isn’t cooperating?” The Regulator’s voice was as cold and hard as stone.

  “I know you think we need her name, but I don’t know if it’s as important as you think it is. She isn’t even related by blood, and I’m starting to think she isn’t going to cooperate anyway.” Jackson blew out a deep breath. “Tonight she made it pretty clear that she doesn’t want me, and I think there may be someone else.”

  Something inside me tightened. Meg. They were talking about Meg again. What the hell did she have to do with anything, and what exactly did this prick have planned for her?

  “We have to get her to see how much she needs you, that’s all. It has to hit home just how bad her circumstances really are. And how much worse they can get.”

  “Exactly how are we going to do that?” Jackson asked. “Things are shitty enough. After the last couple weeks, I expected her to be begging me for help at this point, but she hasn’t asked once.”

  A crack echoed through the house, like the Regulator had slapped his son on the back, and a second later the footsteps started up again. “You leave that to me. I know exactly what to do. She’ll come around. There are very few people in this world who will hold onto their pride in the face of starvation and death.”

  “If you say so.” Jackson’s voice was doubtful, but not upset at the prospect of Meg facing whatever the Regulator was referring to.

  The footsteps drew closer, so I backed into my room, shutting the door carefully behind me.

  At first listen, the conversation sounded like a normal father son talk about unrequited feelings, but I knew better. Something was up. I wasn’t sure what had happened between Meg and Jackson tonight, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation I’d overheard this morning. When I replayed it in my mind, the uneasiness in me grew. Something was off about that man, but he wouldn’t hurt Meg. Right? What would be the point? Sure she was well connected, and he’d said something about needing her, but she couldn’t be anyone that important. She was too young and obviously broke. She should have been nobody.

  Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen. As long as I was here, I’d have to keep an eye on her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Meg

  The sun was barely over the horizon and I was dragging my feet thanks to my late night. Even half asleep the memory of everything that had happened over the last two days flipped constantly through my mind.

  Donaghy’s blue eyes flashed through my mind, and my stupid heart did a little dance. The fighter was a nice distraction, which I more than needed at this point in my life, but that was all. The tattoos on his back, and the sweat that beaded on his muscled chest after a victory against the zombies, his—

  “Holy shit, Meg, you need to get a grip,” I whispered to myself as I pulled my work jumpsuit out of the locker.

  The last thing I needed right now was the complication a schoolgirl crush would bring to my life.

  “James!” My boss’s voice echoed through the room.

  I jumped and spun around to face him, my jumpsuit still in my hands and Donaghy still swimming through my mind.

  Hanson scratched his round belly as his brown eyes moved over me, almost like he was trying to size me up. His thin hair was plastered to his sweaty scalp, moist and dark and so sparse he might as well shave it off.

  The corner of his mouth turned down just before he said, “Get some leather on.”

  The jumpsuit turned to lead in my hands, becoming so heavy I had a hard time holding it up. “Leather?”

  Hanson rolled his eyes like I was the dumbest person he’d ever spoken to. “You heard me. We got a weak spot and I need to send a crew out to fix it. You take the lead.”

  He walked away before I’d had a chance to respond. Not that I would’ve had anything to say to that. Me take the lead? I was the newest person on the maintenance crew and he’d never sent me outside the walls before, let alone had me lead anything. It seemed like he would want to put someone more experienced in charge.

  I was like a robot as I put my jumpsuit back in the locker, and the automatic movements continued when I headed for the office. The turn of events had my mind spinning in circles. Before Dad disappeared I’d had a cushy job that didn’t require much effort. It had paid just enough credits to give me a little extra spending money—being second in command behind Parvarti, Dad had made a good living. Even though I’ve known for the past couple years that I needed to get started on an apprenticeship, deciding what I wanted to do with my life hadn’t been as easy as I’d thought it would be—there weren’t a lot of options in a post-apocalyptic world—so I’d been dragging it out. Floating through life. I’d thought I had plenty of time to decide.

  Then Dad disappeared and Mom stopped going to work, and I had to figure something else out. An apprenticeship at the CDC didn’t seem like a possibility anymore, not with Joshua gone, and the idea of working with Al and Parvarti had hurt too much. Plus, starting out at the bottom
of a career like that didn’t pay as much as some of the dirtier jobs did. People who didn’t have the desire or aptitude to continue their training chose one of the many menial careers the settlement had to offer: maintenance, undertaker, or runner. They were all dirty and dangerous at times, but the majority of their duties were mindless. Of all the menial jobs in the settlement, the maintenance crew paid the best. Mostly because it is the least desirable.

  So that’s what I did. Last week when I’d realized that I was reaching the end of the credits Dad had stashed away, and that Mom wasn’t going to come around anytime soon, I’d gone out and gotten a job on the maintenance crew. Me. Megan Hadley James, niece of the infamous Angus James, niece of the Judicial Officer, and best friend to the Regulator’s son. It didn’t seem real. The boss—that asshole Hanson—had looked at me like I was nuts when I’d told him who I was, but it was real nonetheless, and now I was about to be sent out there. Outside the wall that had kept me safe for the past twenty years. For all the times I’d imagined what it would be like to grow up in a world that had no walls, this was the last thing I thought I’d find myself doing.

  Locating the leather wasn’t tough. There was a shelf in the office lined with jackets and pants, and I dug through them until I found some that would work. They were big on me, even over my other clothes, but that was to be expected. I had a feeling it wasn’t normal for them to send a twenty-year-old girl who was barely over five feet tall out to patch a hole. Especially one who had never set foot outside the walls before.