Haydn takes the hint and steps out into the corridor. I close the door halfway behind me. “We’re not done talking,” I hiss. “I’m totally freaking out, way worse than I was earlier.” I shiver uncontrollably as if to prove the point.
“Remember what I said. Lock your bedroom door. I’ll swing by in the morning, and we can travel to the campus together. Enjoy your night.”
Before I can form a response, he has walked away.
Stepping back into the apartment, I’m greeted with a knowing look. “What?”
“Interesting first day, huh?” Jarod winks.
“You’ve no idea,” I mutter. “But it’s not what you think. Haydn and I are friends. That’s all.”
“If you say so.”
“I do. Believe me, I’m way too distracted to contemplate any romance.” My stomach emits a hungry rumble and we both laugh.
“Why don’t you tell me about it over dinner?” Jarod says. “I found this funky little diner a few blocks away. We can walk there if you’re game?”
“I’m in. Let’s go.”
***
Jarod and I sit facing each other across the booth. He wasn’t kidding about this place. It’s as if we’ve time traveled to another era. It takes kitsch to a whole new level but that’s its charm. Psychedelic murals cover the walls and ceilings, totally clashing with the cerise pink cushioned booths and crimson red countertops. Nostalgic tunes from my grandparents’ era rock out of the old-fashioned jukebox, and the waitresses skate around the room on rollerblades. The diner buzzes with energy, and it’s exactly what I need to revitalize my mood.
Sipping on my cola, I turn to Jarod. “How did your job go today?”
“It was awesome.” His entire face lights up and gets more and more animated as he talks. “I’ve been assigned to IT Security, and I’m working with a team manning the cameras and operational systems. Today was a real eye-opener.”
“Wow. Sounds riveting.” I try to inject the requisite amount of enthusiasm into my words but it’s challenging. While his excitement is infectious, the job sounds about as exhilarating as my Medi-Tech job. That is, not exhilarating at all.
He laughs good-naturedly. “It’s okay, Sadie. I don’t expect you to get it. Most people don’t. But I know you understand how amazing it is to finally get to do the things you want to do, officially, like.”
“I do. I was devastated when I had to leave school. Getting the chance to pick up on that again is unbelievable, and I still feel like pinching myself.”
The waitress materializes, swaying dangerously as she slams our plates down on the table. “Sorry,” she apologizes. “I’m trying to get used to the skates.”
“You look like you’re a fast learner,” Jarod says. She beams at his compliment before wobbling off.
We don’t talk much while eating, but Jarod asks me about my day as we prepare to leave. After a brief argument over who’ll pay, Jarod settles the bill.
“My treat next time.” I step out onto the pavement and my ears silently rejoice.
Jarod pulls the door shut behind him and falls into step beside me. “I can’t get used to having an allowance all to myself.”
“I know. I’m so used to having to ask my parents’ permission whenever I needed to dip into our currency account that I keep forgetting we have our own funds here. I love the independence. Why do you think the government is being so generous?”
He shrugs as we walk past an all-night pharmacy and convenience store. “They must want this experiment to succeed badly. Why else would they give us so much freedom and willingly give us such a generous allowance on top of the funds they already gave our families?”
While I’d like to believe that the government’s generosity comes purely from a good place, I’ve observed enough over the years to know they don’t give something without expecting something in return.
“But does it make sense to you?” I tug the zipper on my hoodie up to my chin as a blast of cooler air whips around me from a grated vent in the ground.
Noticing my gaze, Jarod stops and peers at the vent. “That must connect to the air regulation chute,” he half-mutters.
“I remember reading that and the fact that the temp automatically cools after seven p.m.,” I acknowledge, shoving my hands into the pockets of my hoodie. “Anyway, what’s your view on the government’s agenda?” I ask, attempting to refocus the conversation.
When I receive no reply, I look up at him noting the reflective expression on his face. He bends over, positioning his lips close to my ear. “I think they’ve an ulterior agenda, and I don’t trust their motives.”
He arches his back and we continue walking in silence, past a row of high-rise residential apartment blocks. A couple of minutes later, I tug on his shirt and draw his head down to my level. “Me either. Do you have any theories?”
“A few,” he whispers.
“Care to share?” I tilt my head to the side.
“Not yet.” He shakes his head and my face drops. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, more so that I’m working on verifying a few things, and I promise that when I know more I’ll share what I’ve discovered. Until then”—he stops and looks warily around—“we shouldn’t discuss anything like this with anyone else, and certainly not in public. You catch my drift?”
I nod slowly. For the third time tonight, I’m waylaid by the sheer force of my internal terror. A dreadful sense of foreboding hangs over me like a death sentence. There are so many things about this new life I don’t understand, except for the acknowledgement that fear goes hand in hand with ignorance. The only way to assuage that fear is to figure out what’s up with Dante and identify what the government’s real agenda is.
Perhaps the cards can help shed some light. I make an on-the-spot decision to do a reading once I’m back in the apartment.
When we reach the gate to our apartment block, Jarod asks me about my day, and I update him, leaving out the Logan-centered drama in the cafeteria. Still shaken up over Haydn’s reaction to the incident with Dante and Jenna, I decide to take Jarod into my confidence. I explain what happened exactly as I explained it to Haydn a couple of hours earlier.
Jarod guides me around the back of the building, and we walk along the wide cream and red brick pathway through the extensive rear garden. Crouching down in front of a bunch of fragrant white roses, I bury my nose in the silky petals and inhale. My brow creases in confusion and I dip my head for a second sniff. Still nothing. No smell at all, just like the fake, synthetic types some of our local stores sell. I run my fingers delicately over the petals, and the velvety texture is soft on my skin. “That’s weird,” I say, straightening up. “They don’t smell of anything.”
Jarod bends over and sniffs. “You’re right. It must be whatever they’ve done to preserve them in this artificial environment.”
We stop at a steel bench and sit down. I stretch my legs out in front of me.
“I’ve got to be honest,” he says, “I’ve only met Dante fleetingly, but he gives me a bad case of the chills and I’m a dude.”
“So, I’m not overreacting?”
“Nope. Is that why Haydn was there?” Jarod runs his hands up and down the arms of his light sweater.
“Yeah. I’d gone to talk to Vin, but he wasn’t around. Haydn noticed I was a little freaked and ultimately got the truth out of me. He doesn’t have much love for Dante either.”
“What did he say?” Jarod stretches his arms out behind him.
“That Dante is dangerous. To stay away from him and secure my bedroom door at night.”
“Sounds like solid advice.”
“Yeah, but … it was nearly like he was saying something else. I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something strange going on with Jen whenever she’s around him, and I don’t know what to make of it.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“You have?” I shoot a perplexed look his way. Jarod was only with us in the Mock-Up Facility for little over a day, and he’
s spent practically no time with Jenna. He offers no further explanation, and I’m even more baffled. “What do you mean?”
He pins me with a grave look. “You remember what we spoke about a little while ago?”
“Yeah.”
“It links to one of my theories, but I’m not in a position to elaborate yet. In the meantime, I think you should take Haydn’s advice and keep out of it.” Jarod’s head whips up and he grimaces.
I sense him before I see him.
“Sadie.” Logan stands with his legs slightly outstretched and his spine ramrod straight. He’s wearing a snug, black sweater that clings to his taut chest. Dark navy jeans encase his long legs, and black and red sneakers adorn his feet. Waves of sleek, jet-black hair fall into his dazzling cerulean eyes. An air of authority and organic power surrounds him. Even Jarod is mute in his presence.
Frustrated to be rendered immobile by his magnetic charisma, I force myself to look disinterested. “You do know stalking is illegal and subject to prosecution, right?”
His lips curl upward but he doesn’t respond.
I sigh heavily. “What do you want, Logan?”
“We need to talk. And I’m not taking no for an answer.”
CHAPTER 14
Jarod’s penetrating gaze lingers on my face, as I eyeball Logan and project disinterest. “We’ve nothing to talk about,” I reply coolly.
“I disagree. We’ve plenty to talk about, and it’s not stuff that can be said in front of an audience.” Unashamedly, he spears Jarod with a blunt look. “Leave us.”
Jarod’s eyes widen in disbelief, and I’m torn between disgust and incredulity. “That is downright rude, Logan. You’ve no right to speak to Jarod like that. Apologize.”
“Bite me.” A smirk tugs up the corners of his mouth.
I yearn to ram my fist into his self-serving mouth. However, I’m determined to maintain the moral high ground. Ignoring him, I face Jarod. “You ready to leave?”
“Hell, yeah.” Hopping up, he glowers at Logan.
I rise. “Let’s go.” I’ve barely taken three steps when a hand fists in my hoodie and I’m dragged backward, up against a warm, solid form. My heart damn near combusts in my chest. Logan’s masculine scent envelops me, and I practically swoon in his arms. His responding laugh is rich and low.
Snapping out of it, I wriggle in his arms, but his hold strengthens as he wraps a broad arm around my waist, securing me. “Play nice, Sadie,” he mutters.
“Let me go,” I demand, gripping his arm and trying to wrench it free. He doesn’t move, but I detect a slight tremor under his skin as soon as my hand makes contact.
“You heard her. Release her.” Jarod’s eyes blaze with shared indignation.
“I will,” Logan replies amicably. “As soon as she agrees to speak to me.”
Jarod’s eyes narrow to pinpricks as he stalks toward us. Tension radiates from him in waves, and I’m suddenly fearful things are about to turn nasty. There’s been enough of that tonight, so I make a lightning-fast decision and hope I don’t regret it. “Okay. I’ll talk to you, but make it quick.”
Logan doesn’t relax his hold and Jarod looks ferocious. “This is a private conversation, Jar-od,” he says, enunciating his name as if it pains him to speak it. “So, goodbye.” Spinning around—with me firmly imprisoned in his embrace—he tugs me upward, so my feet are now dangling a few inches off the ground. He strides—impressively fast—through the center of the garden.
“Let me go.” Hyper-aware of Logan’s firm, hot body pressed against my back, I’m having a hard time concentrating. Reminding myself he’s a cheating jackass, I manage to hold onto some of my repulsion. But I’m not completely indifferent. Unfortunately.
Footsteps follow us and I groan. So much for diverting danger. “Release me. Please. I’d like to talk to Jarod, and then you and I can speak privately.”
Surprisingly, he places me on the ground with more tenderness than I’d expect. My face is level with his imposing chest so I slip my poker face on and walk away without surrendering to the urge to ogle him.
Jarod drapes his arm around my waist and pulls me into his side. “Who does this guy think he is?” he whispers conspiratorially in my ear.
I snort. “Give me five minutes to get rid of him. I’ll meet you out front, ‘kay?”
“Are you sure you’ll be okay with him? He’s very demanding.” Jarod flings a scathing look over his shoulder.
“I’ll be fine.” I look into Jarod’s homely blue eyes. Though I barely know Logan, and I’ve nothing substantive to verify my statement, I instinctually know he means me no harm. “Don’t worry. I’ll meet you in a few.”
Shucking out from under his arm, I walk back toward Logan. If looks could kill, Jarod would be six feet under by now. Searing anger prickles underneath the surface of my skin. The nerve of that boy! He has no right to look offended, no right to claim any ownership over me. Further empathy for his girlfriend wells inside me, and I’m incensed on her behalf.
We stand toe to toe. Man, I wish his face didn’t affect me so potently, but I’ve had a lifetime’s experience of wearing a mask, so I adopt my usual blank expression and present the guise that hides the true extent of my feelings. “Let’s hear it.” I look at him as if I’m looking straight through him.
“Let’s sit.” He threads his fingers through mine as he leads me off to the right of the path. My composure wobbles dangerously, and my treacherous fingers curl involuntarily around his smooth, warm hand. Then anger rears its head again, and I yank my hand free. Jarod is right. Who the hell does this guy think he is?
Logan stares at me as if I’m the one who’s done something wrong. I glare at him, hoping he gets the message.
“I like holding your hand.” He just puts it out there.
“Well, I don’t like holding yours,” I lie.
“Come on now, Sadie. We both know that’s a total fib.”
I shove my hands in my jeans pocket lest he make another attempt. “Can we be done with this already?” I implore.
A bench materializes in front of us. “Sit,” he commands.
“Do you have to be so bossy all the time?” I sink down onto the bench.
“You think I’m bossy?” His eyes crinkle.
“As if you don’t know.” I tut-tut.
He appears to seriously ponder this while I sit there waiting for him to start. “Jarod is waiting for me. Can we hurry this up, please?”
His face contorts into an unpleasant grimace. “What’s the story between you two? Is he your boyfriend?” He lowers his face to mine, rendering me momentarily speechless.
“I’m not discussing Jarod with you. Say your piece so I can go.”
He grinds his teeth, making a repetitive clicking sound. “I know what transpired with Dante, and I’m here to make sure you do as Haydn told you. You are to stay away from him. Do you understand?”
A flare of rage sparks to life and I hop up. This guy is unbelievable! I can count on one hand the amount of times I’ve given in to my temper in the course of the last seventeen years on this planet. I’m normally a model of calm temperament. This time, I’m incapable of any restraint. “What gives you the right to demand what I do or don’t do? It is none of your business, and I can’t believe Haydn betrayed my confidence with you, of all people!”
“You’re angry with me over what went down in the Mock-Up Facility.” He says this very matter-of-fact, as if he didn’t lead me on a wild goose chase.
“No. Yes.” I flap my hands in the air. “That’s got nothing to do with this. I’ve had my fill of people telling me what to do, so you don’t get to dictate to me!” I jab my finger in his chest and it meets a wall of solid muscular resistance. Right away, I’m distracted. “Why does it matter anyway?” I’m trying hard not to gape at his body.
His look softens.
Perhaps I should be grateful so many people seem to care about me, but after years of the opposite treatment, I’m already starting to feel smo
thered.
Is it too much to expect some kind of healthy medium?
“Because I care about you.” Reaching out, he lightly taps the skin at my elbow, and a delicious tingle feathers up and down my arm.
Hell, this guy is a total pro. One touch and my resolve starts to wobble? Get a grip girl, he’s toying with you. Maybe, at another time, I might’ve believed him, but after everything that went down between us, that is the last thing I’m falling for.
“Cut the crap, Logan. I know exactly what you’re about, and I’m sick of being a pawn in your manipulative little game. You’ve said your piece. We’re done.”
I walk away before I say or do something I’ll regret. I can’t remember a time when I was this keyed up over something, and so vocal about it. Caving to my emotions, after restraining myself for so long, has unleashed a flurry of heady sensations I’m ill-equipped to deal with.
I’m primed to explode, and it feels both exhilarating and terrifying. How can I feel so in control and so out of control at the same time?
“Goddammit, Sadie. Stop running away from me.” Logan hauls me back.
This time I’m prepared, and I give him a hefty shove. Catching him unawares, he stumbles and falls backward onto the ground. He’s still holding onto my arm so I fall too, twisting around and landing awkwardly on top of him, the length of my body tangled up with his.
Lifting my head, I stare into eyes as vast as the ocean, and I’m all adrift at once. Logan’s hands press into my lower spine, holding me firmly against him. My chest rises and falls as one with his, and there’s no denying the electrifying spark that sizzles between us. My lips part and his eyes narrow in on my mouth. My pulse kick-starts its own beat.
Why do I feel so comfortable in his arms when usually I shy away from physical contact of any kind? Of all the boys for me to relax around, why does it have to be him? I wish I had the answers to my questions, but I’m completely confused and feeling more and more like a stranger in my own body.
Logan rolls and our positions are reversed. I’m lying on my back as he hovers over me. His hair tumbles over his forehead, partly shading his eyes, but not fully masking his hunger. My lips ache with unfamiliar need. The desire to kiss him is so strong, and I feel powerless to resist. Lowering his head slowly, his eyes never leave mine as his lips edge closer and closer to my mouth. Warm puffs of air streak over my skin like an alluring mist, and I’m lost in an inner tornado of conflicting emotions.
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