A spark shot through him the moment Ava’s hand rested on his. He looked at her and gave her a slight smile. There was more to the story, and he needed to finish it before he lost all strength.
“Glass was woken up by the yelling. She was so confused and lying next to a dead man. It turned out he was an old ex-boyfriend who was still sore that she ditched him for being overly grabby and possessive of her. Wouldn’t let her go out of the house on her own, and woe betide her if she talked to, or even so much as glanced at another guy. That sort of stuff. She told me he was completely obsessed with the idea of trying to get her back. She always had a terrible taste in guys. I wasn’t any better,” Jacques said sadly.
“You aren’t a bad guy for protecting someone you love,” Ava said.
“Nice of you to say it like that. I don’t think Glass would agree. Last thing she said to me was that I was just as bad as him. She knew I had thought, even for just a second, that she would get her kicks with another man, in our bed. That she was a no-good slut who would open her legs for anyone who asked. I couldn’t really dispute that—for a few seconds that’s exactly what I thought. I went to prison for a year, and in that time, she never wrote a letter or bothered to call. Nothing when I got out, either,” he explained.
He wished he’d ordered a drink just for an excuse to sip at something so he didn’t feel the need to fill the tense silence. All he could focus on was the feeling of her soft fingers on the back of his hand. Making a ballsy move, he moved his hand so he could hold hers. He stroked her long fingers, watching her subtly for her reaction. It was very slight, but her shoulders sagged a little in relaxation.
“So that’s it. That’s the basic saga of Glass and me. I don’t know why she is threatening you to stay away, ‘cos she hasn’t bothered with me for years. Maybe the idea of someone else has sparked her interest again. Now you know the story, you can choose whether you want to stay or leave,” he said.
With the offer put before her on the table, his stomach was doing somersaults. She didn’t really move at all; she sat there looking at him as if trying to figure out what to do. The longer the seconds stretched, the sicker he was feeling. God, she needed to make a decision. His heart thudding in his chest couldn’t take any more.
*****
Ava had been really mad when she had come to the diner. She thought she had left random break-ins and threats back in The Fringe. This was why she didn’t get attached to people, and the fact that she thought she had found something good only to have it start to turn sour had left her on edge. When she had sat waiting for him to get started, she had even considered getting up and leaving, but as soon as he had begun to tell his story, she could see the emotion, all of that regret.
When he put that decision on the table, she already knew what she would do, but there was a part of her that enjoyed the moment of worry on his face. The fact was it was the first time in a very long time someone actually cared about any decision that she had to make. It was nice to feel cared about. Like her opinions or wishes actually mattered. The way his fingers caressed her hand was so delicate, no demanding touch or aggressive intention. It was totally unlike any experience she had ever had with any of the johns in The Fringe—all grabbing hands, possession, and eagerness to take their chosen currency’s worth. She forced down the unpleasant memories of that time and place, focusing instead on Jacques’ nervous caress.
“Well, I think you need to buy me another coffee and possibly a stack of pancakes and bacon,” she said cheekily. “Then maybe we can talk some more.”
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. It seemed he in no way expected a positive response. She gave him a small smile before she drained the rest of the coffee and pushed the cup to the edge of the table.
“You think one threat is enough to get me to stop? The Fringe breeds you tougher than that,” she said with a chuckle.
Her annoyance had been genuine, but that didn’t mean she was scared. When she had lay down to sleep after her visit from Glass, she had found herself getting more and more annoyed. If she had been in the Fringe, she would have hit the woman for just having the audacity to come into her room. She probably could get away with it in the Oaken Casket, but she had to moderate her behavior for the rest of Seattle. The fake chip in her hand was good enough to use day to day, but too much scrutiny, and its authenticity could be questioned. As a result, she needed to stay clear of the security. She wanted this fresh start, and she didn’t want to be arrested for being chipless.
“I went and saw Glass earlier today. I told her to leave you alone. I doubt she’ll listen, mind; that girl is a law unto herself,” Jacques explained.
She could see the concern on his face. There was something about that, that warmed her heart. It was a feeling she hadn’t experienced in a very long time. When you sold sex for your survival, people acted like they cared because that’s what they felt like they should. You could always tell when they meant it and when it was false. Jacques wasn’t lying. He did actually care what she thought, and that had to be why he came and told his story.
“Honestly, if she shows up again, then I’ll show her what girls from The Fringe are really like,” she said with a slightly sadistic grin. It had been a while since she had a good tussle and would welcome the excuse.
“Just play it safe, alright? Don’t want you getting yourself in shit because of me,” Jacques said.
“Alright, alright. Enough of this sharing is caring shit. It’s getting a little sappy up in here,” she said with a smile. The feelings of care and concern were getting a little too real for her. She couldn’t let someone close; they always just let her down or got her hurt. “So let’s talk about something, anything other than your crazy assed ex.”
“How are things over at the Oaken Casket?’ Jacques asked.
“Is that the only question you’re ever gunna ask me?” she said with a smirk. The job may seem simple to most but it was going to be the key to getting everything she wanted. She glanced out the window. Fat droplets of rain were splattering against the glass and snaking their way down. “It’s good. A lot of work, but I enjoy the people. Apart from the handsy mercs, but Hamish sees to that pretty fast.”
“Hey, it’s a good starting point. Hamish is good like that, doesn’t let any harm come to his staff or his well-behaved regulars,” Jacques responded.
“He is. He gave me hassle last week because I worked a shift without eating,” she said with a chuckle, remembering the look on the man’s face. He was the deadbeat Rider Father she never had. “Talking about food, I’m pretty sure you owe me pancakes and bacon.”
Suddenly, they were interrupted by an almighty crack of thunder and a bright flash of lightning. Somewhere in the cafe, someone yelped loudly at the noise before breaking into giggles at their reaction. Ava looked out the window, staring up the street at the sky between the huge monoliths of glass and steel, hoping to catch another flash of lightning.
“How about we get those to go? I wanna take you somewhere,” Jacques said with excitement on his face.
“Sure,” she replied.
Jacques made a quick order, paying more to get the food quicker. With the food and drinks in hand, they stepped outside, and Jacques grabbed her hand. Instinctively, she went to pull away, but at the last second stopped herself. He led her through the streets. Crowds of people had their collars turned up, and their umbrellas opened against the rain. She and Jacques didn’t have any wet weather gear except the coats on their backs. Ava wanted to know where they were going, but there was something about the look on his face that had her excited in spite of her instinctive distrust of the unknown. In The Fringe, surprises were usually unpleasant and deadly, but her instinct told her that Jacques wouldn’t let her come to harm.
They came to stop beneath a large apartment block. With the gold buzzer plate on the side, it seemed like a pretty upscale place. Why the hell were they at apartments? It wasn’t even his place. She was a little confused.
“What a
re we doing?” she asked as Jacques ascended the steps.
“Just trust me; it’ll be good,” he said confidently as he strode up to the door.
She watched as he pulled something card-like from his pocket and stuck it in the slot beside the door. He held his chip over the scanner, and the door clicked open. He took her hand and led her inside. The inside really was lavish; a plush deep blue carpet ran down the center of the room, and the walls were the perfect balance of gold and cream. It was clean and tidy and didn’t smell like piss, unlike a lot of the lower class areas of the city.
“How the hell do you have access to a place like this?” she asked, looking around a little awestruck.
“A couple years back, I broke in here to lift a few things. I managed to get myself put on the system as a resident. If I was really hard up for somewhere to stay, I’d camp down in the basement for the night,” he explained as he made his way to the block of elevators.
“So why are we here now?” she asked.
“Be patient,” he said.
They stepped inside the elevator, and Jacques hit the button for the top floor. Her anticipation mounted. Was he taking her to meet someone? She wanted to ask a ton of questions, but the sly smirk that was ever present on his face indicated he wasn’t going to say anything.
The elevator came to a stop, and they stepped out onto another elegant-looking floor that could only be one of the penthouses she had read about in the gossip articles Jackie like to show her. There were only five doors on the entire floor, which meant that the apartments up here must be a damn sight bigger than the back room that she was renting out. She wondered why people would need this much space? What was the point in furniture, artwork, and all that jazz? It was just stuff to get stolen, broken, or in your way when trying to make a quick exit. All you needed was food and water to live. Unless it was required to survive, she didn’t understand the point of materialistic things.
“You coming?” Jacques asked, dragging her from her thoughts.
He was standing to the side of the elevator, his hand resting on the wall. It took her a moment to notice the small door that was painted to look like the wall. With trepidation in her mind, she made her way towards him. They headed inside. It was a maintenance cupboard decorated in bottles of chemicals, mops, brooms and wet floor signs. They passed through a second door and followed a set of stairs upwards until they reached a third door with a sign that read ‘Roof Access’.
As she stepped out onto the roof, the cool wind encircled her, bringing with it the light showering of rain. She was immediately distracted by the sight before her. All around her were the lights of Seattle. Neon signs illuminating the dark city, people’s apartment lights flickering on and off, and on the street far below, the lights of the cars sped by. Her jaw nearly hit the floor at the breathtaking sight of the city before her. She had never been up this high in her life. The forty-story elegant apartment block acted as the venue for the most beautiful show she had ever seen. She took a few steps away from Jacques, mesmerized.
“Watch out!” Jacques said, grabbing her hand and pulling her back.
Her heart was instantly hammering at his alarm as she jumped back beside him. She quickly looked around to see what had caused his concern. All she saw was a metal pole sticking out of the ground before her.
“Trust me when I say you don’t want to stand near that,” Jacques said. He led her around the edge of the roof and perched on the thick barrier that surrounded the edge of the roof. The ornate decoration made for a perfect seat. He tapped beside him.
“So are you going to tell me why we’re here?” she asked.
“Just sit down,” he said with a smirk.
As she took the seat beside him, he removed his goggles and put them away in his pack. Ava had never seen him take his goggles off. His face seemed different, longer, with high cheekbones that she hadn’t seen before. He took the two packs of food from the cafe out of his backpack and handed her one. The scent of him opening his food container was enough to cause her stomach to rumble. She was just about to open hers when there was an almighty crack of lightning. Ava jumped, her heart hammering in her chest. The bolt had struck the roof merely feet in front of her.
“You’re safe, don’t worry,” Jacques said with a slight chuckle. “That spike in the ground is a lightning rod; it draws the electricity from the sky to protect the building. Just sit and watch.”
She fell silent for a moment as she watched the spike with bated breath waiting and hoping for another lightning strike. She wasn’t disappointed. There was a rumble in the sky followed by an almighty crack. A streak of blue lightning hit the roof again, the flash illuminating the roof brightly for all of a matter of seconds. The bright blue lightning strike disappeared as fast as it arrived.
“That’s beautiful,” Ava said in complete awe.
*****
The lightning was beautiful, but it was nothing in comparison to the woman before him. With each strike, her eyes lit up with childlike glee. Each strike illuminated her face, lighting her up with complete awe. He wanted to reach out and take her hand, maybe even kiss her, but he doubted that would be well received. That wasn’t the Ava that he had been getting to know.
“How does it work?” Ava asked abruptly. He was quickly drawn from the fantasy of kissing her and forced his brain to be logical.
“Umm… Well, the metal is more conductive than anything nearby, so it attracts and allows the electricity a safe passage to the ground. So when the lightning strikes, it protects the building from taking damage,” he explained. He often forgot that her education wasn’t great, and he really didn’t want her to feel stupid, so he didn’t overcomplicate it.
“It’s amazing,” she said. Her hands gripped the edge of the roof as she watched intently.
The beauty of this building was its height. If there was a lightning storm, this building was quite often hit, as he had learned after months of squatting here. Many a night he had spent up here watching nature at its finest. This was the first time he’d ever brought someone here to share it with him. He was glad it was her.
“Don’t forget the food that you extorted out of me,” he joked as he forced himself to focus on something other than the perfect curve of her jaw.
“Oh, yeah,” she said as she flicked open the container and started on her own food.
Another strike of lightning brought a strange effect to Jacques’s eyes. The black market augmentic enhancements weren’t properly insulated—a risk you took with black market equipment. Whenever he was too close to live electric, they had a particularly interesting effect. The whole world’s colors would become flipped or distorted. Right now, the world was dancing in pastel hues, and the whole image waved gently. It was almost hallucinogenic.
“I wish you could see the world as I do right now,” he said, the rose gold colors making the whole scene somewhat romantic.
“How is it different?” she asked, looking to him with intrigue.
“Well, the world dances with colors that it shouldn’t. My eyewear will need recalibration later, but the effect is beautiful. It makes things seem a little magical and so unreal,” he said honestly as he looked to her. “You look beautiful.”
She smiled. God, that smile was so bright, and so unfitting with the hardened demeanor she had shown all this time. No stoic looks, no tight-lipped smiles, just a full beaming smile. He hadn’t thought she could look any more beautiful, but somehow, she just kept surprising him.
Before he stopped himself, he reached out and cupped her chin, his thumb running over a small scar on her jawline. He was trying to work up the courage to kiss her, but a part of him was worried she’d actually throw him off the roof. Before he could make his move, she did. Leaning in, she pressed her lips against his.
The kiss was intense, no delicate movements, just passion and wanting. Everything that he imagined a first kiss should be. His hand tangled in her long hair as he deepened the kiss. He didn’t want it to end. When th
ey broke apart, both of them were slightly out of breath. He rested his forehead against hers for a moment before she turned and looked out over the city. The lights reflected in her eyes.
“Thank you,” she said.
“What for?” he asked, his eyebrows creasing in confusion.
“For making me feel like a person. For making me feel like I matter,” she said without looking at him. Her gaze stared firmly at the large dark blob on the horizon. The Fringe.
“You do matter, and I’ll keep showing you that. And keep you safe,” Jacques said. “I promise.”
When her fingers wrapped around his, the world felt complete as he felt something click into place inside him. Nothing could ever feel better than this moment.
Chapter Eight
Ava was wiping down the bar; it had been another busy shift, and she was looking forward to getting some sleep. There had been two fights break out in the bar today, and both involved new, baby-faced mercs who were trying to throw their weight around. The fights were ended quickly by the veterans; it would be a long old while until those kids came back. If they were lucky, they might have had time to grow some facial hair by then.
She tossed the cloth in the sink and turned to find India staring at her. India was the daughter of one of the big named mercs, a close friend of Hamish’s. When he went away on business, the sixteen-year-old stayed here under the watchful eye of the merc band. Ava had met her a few times; the girl always looked at her with intrigue.
“Ava, can I ask you a favor?” India asked.
“What’s that?” Ava asked, already concerned about what the request could be.
“Well, this weekend I’m going to this party, and the guy I like is going to be there. I really need to make sure he notices me. You always look so good, like you’re so off trend that it’s basically a new trend. I need someone to look over my outfits and help me decide. So will you help me? Please?” India asked.
Recycled Lives Page 6
