Specter: Circuit Series Book One

by Dailey, Lacey

  “What is wrong with my outfit? You’re the one who looks like some washed up version of Jesus.”

  “Yeah but I’m required to wear this outfit. You chose yours.”

  We stared at each with straight faces for a long time. I kept my gaze neutral while I studied his features and focused on the piercing he had in his eyebrow. If our outfits weren’t any indication, Ace and I were like night and day. Black and white. Good and bad. Orange Juice and toothpaste. Anybody could take one look at us and wonder how the hell we’ve been best friends all our lives. We didn’t match up at all. But the thing with opposites is that one can’t exist without the other. And life without my brother was incomprehensible. We were different, but completely the same where it mattered.

  He licked beer off his lip and let out a loud burp, never breaking his stare. We were both waiting for the other to crack first.

  “I hate you.” I told him. “Why are we even friends?”

  “Because our mamas went to Mommy and Me music class. We communicated through the womb about how awful the experience was.”

  That was when I cracked. My throat burned as I struggled to keep the beer in my throat and not let my sudden laughter destroy my sister’s rug. Our moms met at some class they took when they were pregnant. Apparently, they hit it off right away and started planning playdates the second we popped out.

  That’s probably why Ace felt like a brother. Because I was forced to deal with him since the day I was born. Even though there were moments I had to sit on my hands not to strangle the shit out of him, I was happy my mom took that lame class.

  “You think that’s why we’re both tone deaf?” I wondered. “Because our moms ruined it for us?”

  “It’d make complete sense. I’m amazing at everything else I try. It’s only logical the one thing I can’t do is because of what my mother did while I was still cooking in the uterus.”

  “First of all, you are not amazing at everything you try. Second of all, don’t say uterus. It’s weird.”

  “Uterus.” He blurted. “Uterus, uterus, uterus.”

  “You’re ridiculous.” I rolled my eyes and set my empty bottle on the glass end table next to me. There was no coaster, and if my sister walked in the door before I could move it, I was risking losing an arm. It was possibly the most dangerous thing I did in weeks. “Speaking of singing, I’ve had a song stuck in my head for like two weeks.”

  “I’m confident you ruined the song entirely.”

  I cleared my throat and belted the words, my voice cracking as he threw his hands over his ears and groaned. “I always feel like somebody’s watching meeeeeee. And I have no privacy.”

  “My ears are bleeding!!” He shouted, rolling off the couch and hitting the floor with a thud. “Help! 911! A ginger dressed like a Barbie is killing me.” His body seized dramatically as he huffed out a few breaths. “Tell my mom I love her.” He croaked. “And tell Cruz I want the memorial tattoo he gets of me to be on his ass.”

  I watched in silence as he seized a couple more times and pretended to gasp for breath. Just when I thought it was over, he kept going, coughing loudly and reaching towards the ceiling like he was seeing the light. There was one last seize when his body finally went limp. I waited a few extra seconds to make sure it was finally over.

  “Are you done?”

  His eyes peeled open. He stared at me like he’d never seen me before. “Are you an angel?”

  “No. I’m ginger, golfer Ken.”

  He cackled in laughter and sat up, bending his legs so he could rest his arms on his knees. “You destroyed that song, Wilder. MJ is probably looking down on you with disgust on his face. The second you get to heaven, I’d avoid him at all costs.”

  “MJ? Dude, that song isn’t an MJ song. It’s by some guy named Rockwell.”

  “Yeah but Michael Jackson sang the chorus.”

  I blinked. “You’re fucking with me.”

  “Why would I lie about that? Look it up.”

  “He’s not in the music video!”

  “I know, right? What a load of shit.”

  One look at his face told me he wasn’t fucking with me at all. There wasn’t a smirk across his lips or the distinct beginning of a devious twinkle in his eye. He was serious. I flailed aggressively in the recliner. “My whole life has been a lie.”

  He rolled his eyes at my dramatics and flopped on his back. “So, is it safe to assume your obsession with a certain song has to do with a certain girl?”

  “Let it be known, the song was stuck in my head before I knew anything about the person who kept leaving me gifts.”

  He cleared his throat. “Us. She was leaving us gifts. I’m just as cool as you.”

  “That’s debatable.”

  He yanked out the knot in his hair and flung the band that held it together at my chest. “Are you still stressing over this? Man, nobody at Circuit feels threatened or is upset with you.”

  “I know. It’s not that.”

  After hearing Sage’s story, peering into the faces of her distraught family, and learning how deeply she wished to stay under the radar when it came to putting away a half dozen criminals, it was impossible to feel threatened by her. Though it was undeniable she possessed immeasurable amounts of strength, she seemed delicate. Almost like a "handle with care" sign should have been hanging around her neck. Which was odd to me considering a person so delicate would’ve never been able to handle whatever she went through. I’d only ever seen her in the security footage. I watched it a half a million times as if it weren’t the same thing over and over. I had no business making judgments about her character or personality. But there’s just something in me that says she’s kind. If she wanted to give up Circuit, she would’ve done it by now.

  “Then what is it?” Ace sat up, brushing his hair with his fingers. “Still freaking out and trying to uncover how phantom girl found you?”

  “Nah. I mean, I’m curious as all hell, but I’m not scared anymore.”

  “Then what’s the issue?”

  “I’m just… worried about her.” It sounded dumb. I hardly knew the girl. What I did know of her everybody else in Circuit did too. The Feds probably have a better insight into who Sage is, yet here I was, slumped in an ugly recliner and wondering about my phantom girl. “She hasn’t been here in eight days.”

  “You’re counting?”

  “Ace, she’s never waited this long in between gifts.”

  “She probably got sick of buying them. She spent over a hundred bucks on sugar for us, bro. Marshall said she ain’t got a job. She’s probably broke.”

  I groaned. Great. Now I was a douche for wondering where the hell she’s been. I had the audacity to be cranky because she’d stop bringing us gifts and I was forced to worry. She’s probably run herself out of money spoiling me and my team. What a selfish dick I was.

  “What exactly are you worried about, Wilder? The scumbag who hurt her is in prison.”

  “I know, man. Trust me.” After four days with no sign of her, I hacked into Terre Haute Federal Correction Complex’s security cameras and spent over an hour searching every one until I found him. He looked like shit. The mother fucker was definitely going through some withdrawals. His large body was taking up the entirety of a twin bed while he sweated profusely into a dingy mattress. There wasn’t anybody in the bed next to him. It was just him, staring at the ceiling covered in a ratty orange jumpsuit. His greasy dark hair was long enough to be pulled back into a ducktail at the nape of his neck. I knew that only because during the time I spent staring at him, he rolled onto his stomach and shoved his face in his pillow. And Lord help me, I sat there and wished he would just smother himself. I had no personal connection to him. But killing a bank full of people, kidnapping my phantom girl, and selling illegal drugs was good enough for me.

  “You double checked and made sure he’s still in the slammer, didn’t you?”

  My best friend was likely reading my mind. “Sure did.”

&nbs
p; “Dude, he’s in Terre Haute. That’s in Indiana. Not anywhere close to here. Sage is fine.”

  I grunted. He didn’t know that for sure, and my issue wasn’t that Kade may make a bomb out of the shit they serve him in the cafeteria and blow himself out of his cell so he could snatch Sage again. My issue revolved around wondering if somebody upset her. As if I really had the right to care. I didn’t, and I knew that. But after watching how careful she was around others, it was clear it wouldn’t take much for someone to upset her. And not knowing if she’s okay was driving me bonkers.

  “You have to let this go, man. She wanted to thank us and she did. That’s all.” He stood up and shook out his legs. “It’s our night off. Let’s go eat somewhere before Lilah comes home and wants to feed us some health shit.”

  He was right. I had to stop stressing. Sage was not my business. I’d already played my part in her life. “You’re right.” I stood up, snagging the beer bottle off my sister’s fancy table. “Are you gonna change first?”

  He snuffed, shuffling to the kitchen and dropping his bottle in the trash. “Are you?”

  “Touché.”

  I followed suit, dropping my bottle in the trash and snagging my wallet from the counter. “Where we going?”

  “I dunno. Burgers or pizza?”

  “Burgers. And I want some waffle fries.”

  We both froze when a noise came through the front door. “Shit!” Ace hissed. “Lilah’s home.”

  I chuckled. “We’re grown ass men. We can eat whatever we want.”

  “Yeah but now we are gonna get like a thirty-minute lecture and I’m gonna feel guilty for getting double bacon on my cow meat.” He whined and stomped his foot like the big kid he is.

  I waited to hear her key sliding into the lock but it never came. “Huh. Guess it was the neighbors.” I slid on my Sperrys and ignored Ace when he whispered “Ken” under his breath. Shoving my wallet in my back pocket, I yanked open the door.

  I froze, my limbs locking up and hair standing at attention. My feet failed to move past the doorway as I stared directly at the top of her head, snow-white hair spilling everywhere. Her head stayed down, but I knew by the way every single muscle in her body seemed to stiffen, she knew I was there. I didn’t move as her trembling hands adjusted the small box sitting on my welcome mat. It was wrapped in bright blue paper with SPECTER written on the top just as they all were.

  She stayed down there for a long time. I could feel Ace’s breath on my neck behind me, and nobody said anything for a long time. It was obvious she wasn’t expecting someone to be home. And though I was happy to see her, I had no idea what to do now.

  So, I did what I do best.

  I made a colossal mistake.

  I squatted down next to her, bringing my face level with hers. At an achingly slow pace, her head lifted and bleak eyes met mine beneath long strands of hair. A noise came from her as a small hand reached upward and brushed a lock of hair away from her face.

  I tilted my head and looked right into a pair of eyes that screamed fear and asked her, “Are you okay?”

  And then, all hell broke loose.

  10

  Sage

  The second his voice made its way to my ears, the bubble we seemed to be in popped. I about fell on my ass and scrambled backward, flattening myself against the wall behind me as I panted for breath. Fear squeezed at my chest, forcing my low breaths to come out choppy. Skin began rising on the back of my neck. I gripped it and wiped at the sweat, dropping my gaze to the floor. I scolded my brain. Told it to get a grip. Nothing about him seemed threatening, but he was still a stranger. And there was something about the way he was studying me that had me terrified he was going to attempt to touch me.

  And that just couldn’t happen.

  I watched through pieces of my hair as he stood to his feet and stumbled backward, hands raised as if he were calling surrender. “I’m sorry.” He rushed out, stepping behind the line that separated his apartment and the hall. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. My name is Wren. Wren Wilder.” He cleared his throat, peering down at the top of my gift. “Specter.” He corrected.

  I know who you are.

  I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. My voice was caught in the bottom of my throat along with most of my air. If I could’ve just brought my feet to work, I would’ve been running. But the damn things were glued to the simple carpeting and I had no choice but to stand there with my knees wobbling. I knew they’d give out at any point. I just hoped he was already back inside his apartment when I hit the floor.

  I worked desperately to even out my breathing and assessed him. He was wearing a shirt that reminded me of the sunshine pillow in Julie’s office. The bright yellow did nothing to complement his thick orange locks that were swept nicely on the top of his head. But somehow, it seemed to work. He looked like a sunflower. His head the center of the flower and his body the petals. His skin was almost as white as mine though it was painted in freckles. His face was covered in them and they went all the way down his arms. If I got a marker and connected the dots, there were endless possibilities of what the design would turn out to be.

  Below his eyes seemed to be the area where most of his freckles lie though I had a hard time discovering the truth behind that suspicion. Navy blue frames hid a majority of his freckles and wrapped around each of his eyes. His square glasses made him look impossibly clever. I half expected him to start reciting useless facts about space nobody cared about. But he said nothing. He just stood in his doorway, staring at me while I stared at him and waited for my feet to decide they wanted to work again.

  Sudden movement behind him caught me completely off guard. I flinched and screamed at my feet to get their shit together. I shook violently, moisture pooling in my eyes. There was no way Wren and the person behind him couldn’t smell the fear floating off me in waves. It pissed me off immensely. He’d said nothing scary. Did nothing scary. There was no gun attached to his belt, no eyepatch over his eye, and no tattoos on his neck. He had absolutely nothing in common with the other criminals I’d been around. Still though, my body and my mind had trouble communicating, and I thought I might throw up.

  “Sage.”

  My eyes flew to his.

  He cleared his throat. “The person behind me is my friend Ace Jackson. Or you could call him Mischief.”

  Mischief.

  Ace Jackson was a part of Circuit.

  Wren tilted his body slightly and very slowly, Ace Jackson came into view. I pressed my body harder against the wall as if he were about to rush me. I scanned him quickly, looking for signs that might have made him threatening. I found nothing. He was about six inches taller than Wren and had shoulders much broader. He had no freckles, and his blond hair was almost past his shoulders.

  What I found absolutely strange was his outfit. He was wearing all white. Maybe it was simply because I spent almost two years surrounded by only one type of man, but I found it odd a man would wear such white pants.

  I liked it. Odd was good. I didn’t know why but odd felt familiar.

  Go white pants.

  “Hi, Sage.” Ace’s voice surprised me. Unlike Wren’s careful and calming voice, Ace’s was smooth, dripping with confidence like we were just hanging out and I wasn’t acting like a complete nutcase. “Thanks for the candy. Red Vines are my shit.” His nudged his thumb at Wren. “This kid over here wouldn’t share the gummy bears.”

  Wren shrugged. “I’m a slut for a good Haribo gummy bear.”

  The corner of Wren’s lips quirked, and I peeled my body off the wall slightly. “You’re... You’re welcome.”

  Wren tilted his head slightly, adjusting his glasses. “Are you okay, Sage?”

  Was I? Hell no. My knees were bobbing violently, sweat was crawling down my back, and I was so angry. And frustrated. And overwhelmed.

  And when all those emotions mixed with fear, I became exhausted.

  “Would you like to sit down, Sage?”

  I no
dded my head and slid down the wall, my body becoming a heap on the floor. I peered at Wren and Ace, curling in on myself. They were across the hall, behind the arbitrary line that technically said they weren’t even in the hallway, but I still hated the way they towered over me.

  “Would you like some water?”

  I shook my head. I never accepted food or drink from a stranger. My mom cooked most of my meals, and I checked the seal on every bottle of water I purchased.

  It was paranoia at its finest, but I learned in the worst way possible that the easiest way to get someone to cooperate was to drug them.

  Messing with someone’s ability to think straight is hands down the most disgusting thing a person could do to another. And I couldn’t fathom why people went to bars and did it to themselves.

  Very slowly, Wren crossed the invisible line and sank down to a seated position.

  “Can I sit here?”

  I nodded. I would’ve rather he went inside but I was the one who showed up here continuously, leaving gifts and disappearing. God. I probably looked like I belonged in a psych ward, trembling in a vacant hallway with a face that belonged on a ghost. I showed up here willingly and was acting like I was being held prisoner.

  Though I suppose I was.

  But instead of a human holding me prisoner, it was gripping fear and thick paranoia.

  “I’m gonna order a pizza.” Ace announced, clicking the door shut.

  It became a smidge easier to breathe when I had only one person to watch. Wren crossed his legs and put his hands in his lap. “So, what’s your favorite candy?”

  I blinked. That was it? I was two shakes away from a panic attack outside his home and that’s what he asks? Doesn’t wanna know how I found him? Or why I wouldn’t leave him alone? Doesn’t want to call the cops on the creepy stalker girl?