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

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Twisted World Series Box Set | Books 1-3 & Novella Page 34

by Mary, Kate L.


  It all made sense, now. Why this man saved me, and why he reminded me of Dad. He was my uncle, and even though they looked different, there were so many similarities between him and his brother. His eyes, the way he puckered his lips as he looked everyone over. Even the way he spoke to me. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed it before, but I should have. It should have been so obvious.

  Charlie slipped her hand into mine and shook her head. “I can’t believe this. Twenty years. He’s been alive all this time?”

  “In the CDC,” Dragon said, crossing his arms. “We got him out a few months ago. It took years of planning and recon, but thanks to Helen, we figured out who we could trust and how to make it work. That’s why they took your dad.” He turned his gaze on me. “They needed his blood once Angus was gone. If we’d known he was immune, we could have foreseen it. But we had no idea.”

  “He’s alive then?” I asked, suddenly unable to hold in the tears. Charlie gave my hand a little squeeze. “He’s alive?”

  “He is, and we have a plan, but getting Axl out is going to mean the end of our time in New Atlanta. We won’t be able to stick around the way we did with Angus.”

  “I don’t care. We have to do it,” I said. “We have to save him.”

  “It ain’t gonna be easy to get him.” My uncle’s voice boomed through the room. His arm was still around Mom, who was still crying and shaking her head. “You done it twice already, and they’ve changed things up since then, made it tougher. But we can get him out. We gotta.”

  “Twice?” Lila wiped tears from her cheeks and Uncle Al gave her a squeeze.

  “Who else did you sneak out?” Parv asked.

  Angus’s gaze moved to Glitter, who was hugging herself and staring at the floor. Helen slipped her arm around the girl’s shoulders.

  “My daughter,” Angus said.

  The girl ventured a look at my uncle, her expression was shy, but affectionate, and Angus beamed at her.

  “Daughter?” Mom shook her head as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. “How do you have a daughter? And Axl is immune? None of this makes sense!”

  “It’s a long story.” Helen exhaled as she led Glitter across the room. Both waitresses sank into chairs, and the older one nodded to the empty ones. “You should all sit. There’s a lot to tell you, and a lot to think about. It’s going to be a long night.”

  We obeyed, silently taking seats around the table. As a whole, we were in shock. Angus was alive. All the rumors had been true and somehow, against all logic, my uncle had come back from the dead like that crazy prophecy of The Church’s had been true all along.

  Was he here to save us? I didn’t know, but I knew that Helen was right; we had a long night ahead of us. Two decades had passed since my family arrived in New Atlanta, and all that time Angus had been alive. Held prisoner and used like his life meant nothing. Jackson’s father was behind it, I had no doubt, just like I had no doubt that the same thing was happening to my Dad at this very moment. How Dragon and Helen had gotten involved was another mystery, but right now I was willing to sit silently and listen to whatever they had to say. They’d both promised that when the time was right, all my questions would be answered, and the time had finally come. The time to save Dad, and now Donaghy too.

  To be continued with Twisted Mind…

  Thanks for reading! If you’ve enjoyed this book, please consider taking the time to leave a review on Amazon.

  Acknowledgments

  When I finished writing Silent World, I already knew I was going to continue the story. Part of it was the constant hounding from readers, you know who you are, but another part was that I felt like it needed to keep going. I knew that the idea to skip ahead twenty years was risky, but I felt very strongly that this was where the story had to pick up. That, of course, meant packing a lot into the plot, and will mean packing a lot of backstory into the plot of the next book, but I’m very excited with how it turned out!

  I couldn’t have done it alone, though. Thank you Erin Rose, my bestie and first reader who read, loved, and gushed about Twisted World. Also, Jen Naumann, who was nice enough to let me bounce the plot idea off her before I even started writing the book, and then both read and loved it when it was finally done. Thank you Jan Strohecker for offering to beta read and asking all the right questions, they really helped me fill in a few plot gaps, and Laura Johnsen, as usual, for searching for typos for me.

  A very special thanks goes to my son, Carter, who told me—more than a year ago—that I should call one of my books Twisted World. I thought it was a good title, but needed the right plot for it. This one is perfect. Also, my other three children and my husband, who are proud of everything I’ve done and who are tireless in their efforts to promote me to friends, teachers, coworkers, students, and parents of friends. I love you all!

  I hope everyone enjoys this book, and I promise to get the next one done as soon as possible, but please be patient with me. I have a big move coming up and will do my best to work writing into my schedule, but I can’t make any promises about when I’ll get the next book out.

  Twisted Mind

  A Broken World Novella

  Published by Twisted Press, LLC an independently owned company.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are fictitious or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real in any way. Any resemblance to person, living or dead, actual events, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Art by Kate L. Mary

  Copyright © 2017 by Kate L. Mary

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. For permissions contact: [email protected]

  Chapter One

  When he saw her from a distance, her head barely visible through the crowd and a terrified expression shimmering in her green eyes, the thing that lived in the pit of his stomach woke. It was getting stronger. He didn’t know where it came from or what it was called—or if it even had a name—so he just called it the need. That’s how it felt to him, anyway. Like a hunger pang or the desperate ache he got in his lungs when he stayed under water for too long. A burn that wouldn’t go away no matter how many deep breaths he took in.

  Other people would probably say the need was an unnatural thing, but to Jackson Star it felt normal. It felt right. It had been inside him for as long as he could remember, and like many of the urges that had increased in intensity as he moved from childhood to his teen years, and then grown into a man, this urge had deepened with age. So much so that at times the need was strong enough that it even overshadowed hunger.

  The need gnawed on Jackson’s insides as he pushed his way through the crowd, shoving people aside much harder than necessary. The anger and violence in the air was so thick that his mouth filled with saliva. He could taste the volatility as he ran his tongue over the roof of his mouth, and he had to bite back the smile that threatened to break free. The heat and rage surrounding him fed the need, but Jackson knew now wasn’t the time to give in to it. Meg, tiny and helpless, was in the middle of this crowd, and she needed his help.

  He reached her at the same time that her Uncle Al did, the buffoon who had somehow managed to rise in the ranks of the enforcers, and together the two men pulled Meg from the crowd. Her body trembled under Jackson’s grasp, and the fear that throbbed through her stirred the need inside him even more. Almost on their own, Jackson’s fingers tightened on Meg’s arm. She was a petit thing, and he knew that if he wanted to he could snap her bones with very little effort. And he did want to. He wanted to very, very badly.

  They reached the edge of the crowd and Jackson dropped his hands to his sides, curling his fingers into fists as he tried to regain control. No matter how much he craved it, no matter how good it would feel, now wasn’t the time for breaking things. He had a plan, and part of that
plan was to be there for Meg whenever and however she needed him.

  At his side, Meg and her uncle talked, but the blood pounding in Jackson’s ears made it difficult for him to focus on the conversation completely. Meg was reassuring Al that she wasn’t hurt, and her uncle was lamenting how dangerous the streets of New Atlanta had gotten. As if the world outside these walls was any better. The fool. If he knew the precarious position he and his family were in he would bite his tongue. No one, especially not the people standing at Jackson’s side right now, should complain about how the settlement was run.

  Jackson clenched his fists even tighter.

  “Things have gotten bad,” Meg was saying as she glanced toward the throng of people she had just fled, “you can’t blame them for being upset.”

  Jackson inhaled slowly through his nose, trying to clear his head even more. Now that the mob had mostly dispersed, the scent of violence had been replaced by the odor of shantytown. Urine and trash, unwashed bodies. Suffering. It was so revolting that Jackson had to resist the desire to cringe away from the stench.

  “They don’t have to live like this,” he said, glancing behind them at the barely standing shacks before focusing his attention on Meg. “They’re choosing to live in filth. If they worked harder, they could make a better life for themselves. They’re a drain on society.”

  “How?” Meg whispered, her green eyes big and round and so full of pity that it made Jackson ill.

  He pressed his lips together and silently cursed himself for allowing the words to pop out of his mouth. It was a stupid mistake to make, and even worse, it wasn’t how he felt at all. These people were living in filth and they were a drain, but they were here because his father, Garret Star, the Regulator of New Atlanta, had put them here. They had a purpose, although temporary, and when his father was done with them they would be disposed of like the trash they were.

  But Jackson shouldn’t have said anything. He and Meg had just gotten into a fight—some dumb shit about how his father needed to do more to help the masses—and he’d set out to make up with her. Like everything else in the settlement, Meg had a role to play, and they wouldn’t get where they needed to be if she was angry with him.

  Most of the time anymore, Jackson felt like he could go either way with Meg. She was undeniably beautiful, but also a pain in the ass with her idealistic view of the world and her never-ending desire to look for the good in things. Most of the time she was more trouble than she was worth. This was, after all, his father’s plan. One that had formed years ago, before Jackson had even graduated from cloth diapers, and it made sense in the grand scheme of things. Meg may have been too opinionated for his taste, but she had the right name. A name that would give Jackson and his father more power in the settlement, and that was something the Stars planned on taking advantage of.

  Jackson was ripped from his thoughts when Al asked him to escort Meg home. The apartment she lived in was close enough that they could see it from where they were standing, so of course she protested. Jackson ignored her however, as did her uncle, which made him respect the older man just a little bit more than he had previously.

  Despite the fact that he was entrusting Jackson with his niece’s safety, the look Al gave him was penetrating enough to made Jackson’s scalp prickle. He stood his ground though, keeping his face expressionless so Al wouldn’t change his mind, and after a second Meg’s uncle relaxed, although he still didn’t look thrilled to be in Jackson’s presence. Not that people ever were.

  Jackson wasn’t a fool. He knew most people could see what he really was, but he didn’t care. The truth was, he had never really tried to hide his real self from the world. Not unless it suited him, that is. Like with Meg. Her entire family looked at him with suspicion, except maybe Charlie—and again that was how Jackson wanted it—but Meg saw him in a different light. To her, he was the boy who had saved her and comforted her. The one who would always be a shoulder for her to cry on. It was a perfectly planned strategy and one of the many personas Jackson had taken on over the years, but it was by far the most difficult role he had ever had to assume. Still, he knew that if everything played out the way he and his father had planned, it would all be worth it in the end.

  A few seconds later, Al hurried off, and Jackson slipped his arm around Meg’s waist so he could lead her down the road. Her body was tiny next to his, which he loved. That was another plus about Meg. She was small, and even though Jackson wasn’t a big man, being next to her made him feel like he was.

  Not that his size had ever hindered him from doing what needed to be done. Men twice his stature shrank under his glare, cowered at the very mention of his name, and darted out of his way in the streets. And they were right to be afraid. When the need took over, Jackson was pretty certain that he was more monster than man.

  He was a robot on the walk back to Meg’s apartment, saying all the right words automatically, barely even registering what they were before they left his lips. Meg responded just how she should, forgiving him and accepting his embrace when she needed comforting.

  That was the only moment that he felt the façade of sensitivity begin to slip away. Having her head resting against his chest and his arms around her little waist woke the need, and he found himself having to concentrate on her words so he didn’t give in to the scenarios playing out in his head. Meg at his mercy. Meg begging for help. Meg finally becoming his once and for all. It was almost too delicious to resist.

  By the time they had started walking again, Jackson felt like the thing inside him was trying to rip its way out. Meg was sniffling, but he had succeeded in fixing their little rift, and when he left her at the door to her building, he felt like they had taken a little step forward in their relationship. The progress had been slow, but steady, and he was smart enough to know that any move forward was a good thing. No matter how small it might have seemed to the outside world. They were young still, and there were plenty of years ahead of them, and plenty of time to allow his plan to come to fruition.

  This time when Jackson got a big whiff of shantytown, he allowed his nose to wrinkle in disgust. The buzzing in his stomach was the only thing that could possibly overpower the stench of urine, but even that couldn’t mask the stink of rotting trash. Garbage day was nearing, meaning the piles of refuse had been sitting in the sun for weeks now, and the smell had gotten so strong that it was impossible to ignore. Even walking past it the way he was right now had him feeling like the stink was soaking into his pores, and he knew that he’d be forced to take a shower the second he got home or he’d feel like it was following him for the rest of the night.

  Meg had been right when she’d said something needed to be done. The Regulator needed people, but the filth that had gathered in this section of the city was nothing more than a headache, and the people living in the shacks were more than a waste of resources. As far as Jackson was concerned, the whole area needed to be bulldozed completely. Maybe he’d even suggest it to his father.

  He walked faster, ignoring the buzz that grew in intensity from the sounds echoing through the little streets separating the shacks. If it weren’t for Megan James, Jackson would never come near this part of the city. His own house was almost on the other side of the settlement, and in a much nicer area, and there was nothing else in this part of the city that deserved his attention. Yes, if Meg didn’t live here, he could pretend this entire section didn’t exist at all.

  Only she did live here, which meant Jackson found himself walking down this street several times a week to pick her up or drop her off, and despite the stink from shantytown or the pain in the ass she could sometimes be, he savored playing the part of Meg’s suitor. As much as she would allow it, that is. Hopefully, they would soon be able to take the next step in their relationship. Jackson had been patient, he had paid his dues and he had no doubt that one day Meg would come to her senses and realize she needed him in her life. Especially after this business with her dad. Things for her were only going to get wo
rse. Jackson and his father would see to that.

  Meg and Jackson had been friends going on nine years now, and through every twist and turn in her life, she had come to him for comfort and advice. He’d hugged her when she was sad, had listened to her talk about her long-dead mother like the woman had been something special even though she was nothing more than a ghost of an idea to Meg, he’d even been there to hold her hand when her father had disappeared. Jackson had always made sure that he was nearby when Meg needed an ear, planting seeds in her mind that grew slowly, but knowing that when they finally did sprout, their roots would be strong and deep.

  The only kink in the plan had come two years ago when Meg had started dating that prick, Colton Decker. The asshole had been older than Meg, and tall—several inches over six feet—and that had only made Jackson dislike the guy more. Meg had met Colton when she’d gone to visit her dad at work, and when the asshole had asked her out, she had come running to Jackson to gush about it. It had taken everything in him not to kill Colton that day, and playing the part of the dutiful friend had been torture. For the first time in their friendship Jackson had found it difficult to hide his real feelings, and the more time Meg spent away from him, the harder it had become.

  Although they had never discussed it openly, he knew that she’d ended up sleeping with Colton. Jackson had witnessed it firsthand, listening in from the CDC, grinding his teeth the entire time. It had almost been enough to drive him mad, and at that moment, as the sounds of their rutting grew more intense, the need had grown until he’d barely been able to contain it. It had felt like it was trying to eat its way out of him. Like it would kill him if he didn’t give it what it wanted.

 

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