Defective (Fractured Era Book 1)

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Defective (Fractured Era Book 1) Page 4

by Autumn Kalquist


  “Everyone, huh?” His mouth twitched. “It’s too bad they forgot you.”

  “I was there.” She leaned over to check behind the bedside table. “I just felt like leaving early.”

  “Hmm. Miss your parents?” Anders raised a brow. “Bet they wouldn’t be too happy if they found out Scott’s with Dion and you’re with me. Isn’t he also banned from your house?”

  He stared openly at her until she blushed and looked away. Charlotte ended up spending the night a few times a year, always when her parents were out of town.

  She finally let out an exasperated sigh. “What? My parents are in Seattle, yeah, but that has nothing to do with you being a creeper.” She tossed her head and started dragging the comforter noisily across the wood floor in search of the rest of her clothes.

  “You should’ve gone with them. It’s not my fault you can’t resist me.”

  “You’re so delusional! They’re at a boring Calliope6 conference. Holo station owners only.” Charlotte grabbed her purse from his desk. “Something about upgrades, I don’t know.”

  “I wonder what they’re upgrading.” He leaned back on his elbows, grinning. “Maybe the security system?”

  “Everything’s not about you, Anders.” Charlotte plucked her clothes off the floor and let the blanket slide away. Her ass jiggled as she darted into the bathroom.

  “So they’re not upgrading security?” Anders called.

  “Why would they?” She peered around the doorframe, a spiteful glint in her eye. “The system worked perfectly when that scumbag tried to break in last year. He was arrested in, what, sixty seconds? Of course… he was an amateur. And you and I both know what a complete moron he is.” She flashed him a vicious smile and slammed the door.

  Feisty. And also incorrect.

  Anders had been arrested one hundred and eighty-eight seconds after the station’s alarm went off.

  But he’d already spent ninety-six minutes inside the station’s supply room before he’d tripped that alarm… on purpose. He wanted to see how fast the police could respond to a break-in. They were slow. He hadn’t anticipated the holo station going into full lock-down mode, that’s all.

  He was dying to get rid of Charlotte and boot up her holotab, but he had other things to accomplish first.

  With a spring in his step, he grabbed the holotab she’d given him and headed into his walk-in closet, locking the door behind him. He strode to the back and hopped over boxes containing his winter clothing and ski gear. Shelves lined the far wall, packed tight with luggage, bags, and extra blankets.

  Anders pulled down the largest suitcase. The rectangular panel behind it looked like every other panel on the shelf, but this one was different.

  He gently pressed it along the edges, and it popped forward with a click. He eased it flat, revealing the large gap inside the wall where he’d removed the insulation.

  A surge of energy raced through him as he lowered the holotab into the gap, adding it to his stockpile of borrowed Coalition tech. Who knew what data he’d recover from it? People tended to use the same passwords over and over. If Charlotte’s parents were as predictable as everyone else, he might finally be able to access the top floor of the holo station—where they kept their most advanced tech.

  Anders suppressed a smile and carefully replaced the panel and the suitcase.

  Then he quickly finished dressing, pulling on jeans and a new long-sleeve shirt. He normally hated wearing nanofabric, but Georgia was a sauna in June, and this shirt was like mobile air conditioning.

  He was back in his bedroom and lacing up his boots by the time Charlotte emerged with a fresh face and her hair pinned up in a messy bun, purse slung over her shoulder. Her breasts looked ready to escape from her tank top, and her skirt left most of her thighs exposed. Anders couldn’t help but feel his appreciation rise.

  “Eyes up here.” Charlotte snapped her fingers. “And lose my number. This will never happen again.”

  Anders stood, forcing her to look up at him. “I’ve never heard that one before.”

  She licked her lips. “You know I still hate your guts, right?”

  “Feeling’s still mutual.” Anders winked. “Unfortunately, not even that will be enough to keep you away.”

  “Get over yourself,” she snapped. She tried to brush past, but Anders blocked her.

  “Hey,” he said softly.

  She took a deep breath and looked up at him. Her cheeks flushed as she met his eyes.

  “It’s okay.” Anders smoothly wrapped his hands around her slim waist and pulled her toward him. “Just admit why you’re here. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying a good hate f—”

  “Shut up.” Charlotte glanced down at the inch-wide gap between them. She swallowed. “It’s simple, you idiot. I’m here because you asked for my family’s garbage. I was just trying to be a good neighbor.”

  “You were good,” Anders gently squeezed her waist and pulled her closer. “Really good. Did I even invite you in? One minute you were on the back porch asking if my dad was home. The next minute you were on your knees—”

  “Shh!” Charlotte’s eyes darkened, and her breasts threatened to fall out of her shirt with each quick inhale.

  “Don’t worry.” Anders lowered his voice. “My dad can’t hear us up here.”

  “I’m not worried. I’m leaving. And avoiding you ‘til I fly to Boston.”

  “Are you excited you’re moving far, far away? I know I am.” He guided her hips closer, showing her just how excited he was. “Want a send-off you’ll remember?”

  “Nice try.” Her voice came out weak, husky. “That only works if you’re memorable. And you’re not. If you’d ever gone to college, you’d know that I won’t be able to walk across campus without tripping over a hundred guys like you.”

  “College sounds amazing.” Anders ran his fingers lightly up her ribcage, and started tracing the line of her bra beneath her shirt. She bit her lip, and as he increased the pressure, she arched into his touch, eyes half-closed. “It also sounds like you’ll be looking for a guy like me.”

  “Hell, no.” Charlotte took a shaky breath. “You’re the worst.”

  “I am.” Anders leaned down, and her lips parted in response. “You can do much better.”

  “Anyone could.” She murmured. “The bar’s so low.”

  Anders pulled back slightly, before she could kiss him. “You need to find a respectable boyfriend in Boston,” he said, slipping his hand beneath her shirt. “Someone you deserve.”

  “I will. Gimme a week.” Charlotte sucked in a breath and tugged hard on his belt loop.

  Anders started in on her neck, nuzzling his way up it. “You’ll make another guy very happy.” He reached her ear. “If you know the secret.”

  “What…” Charlotte let out a small noise as he grazed her earlobe. “Secret?”

  “It’s simple. Remember to scream his name.”

  She sighed in response and tugged at his belt loops more insistently.

  “Then he’ll never know,” Anders said softly, “you’re pretending he’s me.”

  He released Charlotte with a grin, and she let out a growl of frustration and shoved him into the bedroom door.

  Anders opened it with a flourish.

  Charlotte stalked through, her hands in tight fists. He followed her into the dark hall that led to the staircase.

  “I know my own way out.” Charlotte hissed, walking ahead of him.

  Anders ignored her. The glass panels that ran from the ground to the attic were still in night mode out here. Fantastic. His dad was probably still asleep after his late shift, which meant he wouldn’t have to talk to him at all today.

  As the stairwell sensed their approach, the night light function activated. It began to emit a gentle green glow as the luminescent coating came to life. Each metal step seemed to sparkle as they descended.

  The steps were the only good thing about Coalition
housing. When he was a kid, he used to sneak out of bed and sit here for hours, staring at the luminescent dust until patterns emerged. Stars, spirals, a thousand faraway galaxies and dimensions, each with a story to tell, stories that wove a chaotic path through his brain until his dad activated day mode and ruined it like he ruined everything.

  Anders reached the second floor landing, and from it, he had a clear view of most of the downstairs. The tall windows were still in night mode, and the wide open floor plan of the living room looked deserted. By the time Anders reached the first floor, Charlotte was disappearing into the kitchen, high-tailing it for the back door.

  “Good morning, Charlotte.” A deep voice said.

  “Oh… uh, good Morning, Mr.… Sheriff Johansen.”

  Awkward. Anders perked up. If he had to see his dad, at least it would be entertaining.

  Anders didn’t even try to keep the amusement off his face as he sauntered into the kitchen.

  Charlotte stood next to the back door, her hand on the doorknob, eyes glinting in the dim light. She darted a look at Anders, then at the island, where his father sat, a mug of coffee in his hand.

  Loras Johanssen was already in uniform and had the latest Coalition-issued hologear on, a single tethered eyepiece and earpiece made of glass and metal.

  “Let me get some light in here,” his dad said to Charlotte, his voice calm.

  He made a series of gestures—house commands—manipulating the 3D interface only he could see.

  He gestured a unique command—something Anders knew he’d created to deactivate every networked device with a microphone or a speaker. They had no proof the devices recorded anything, but Anders had removed most of them from his bedroom. If the sensors in the windows were sending his movements to some lackey at Headquarters, well, then he gave them regular entertainment.

  But there were things said in this house that the Coalition could never overhear.

  Sunlight flooded the kitchen as every window switched to day mode, and his dad removed the gear. He stood up and took measure of the situation. Just like Anders, he was 6’3” and had the same white-blond hair, but unlike Anders, he had light brown eyes and was a traitor to humanity. The Coalition logo pinned over his heart proved that.

  “Front door is unlocked,” his dad said to Charlotte, his voice warm, even friendly. “Lawn bots are on in the back, and it’s pesticide day, so I wouldn’t go out that way. I’m about to start breakfast, though, if you’re hungry…”

  “Oh, no. I was just… I had to tell Anders something.” Her face was beet red. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Alright. Anders, can you show your friend out?”

  “Thanks,” she said, a hint of relief in her voice. “It’s okay, I know the way.”

  This was great. Everyone knowing exactly what happened, yet everyone expected to pretend like it hadn’t.

  As soon as Charlotte passed the island, and his dad could no longer see her face, she sent Anders a withering glare.

  “Don’t I get a good-bye kiss?” he asked.

  The stunned mixture of horror and shock on Charlotte’s face was worth whatever happened next. In fact, her expression ranked right up there with the look on his dad’s face when he’d arrested Anders for breaking into the holo station.

  Charlotte let out a small sound and hurried past him in a super disappointing way.

  “Ouch! That really hurt my feelings,” Anders called after her.

  The front door slid open and closed with a chime.

  Anders crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the slick wall of white cupboards behind him. Then he stared at his dad with a blank gaze.

  His father stared back and took a long drink of his coffee.

  Anders could play this game all day.

  His dad had to go to work sometime, and clearly he had something to say, or he wouldn’t have deactivated all potential sleeper agent TraitorTech in this place.

  His father finally drained his cup and placed it on the concrete counter with a light clink. He stood tall, shoulders back, composed. Calm. But Anders knew the storm he kept just under the surface.

  “The Connellys may have dropped the charges against you, but they forbade you from entering their home.” His father said evenly. “They don’t want you coming near them, trespassing on any of their property, including their holo station, and I’m certain that includes sleeping with their eighteen-year-old daughter. Do you understand?”

  Anders stood up straight. “Is it still trespassing if she asks me to come inside?”

  He father’s eyes flashed ever-so-slightly, but he kept his composure. “What happened to that last girl… Alissa, wasn’t it?”

  “Who?” Anders walked over to the counter to make the stare down more uncomfortable for his dad. “Oh. Her. Apparently she had a boyfriend.”

  “Is she still with him?”

  “What?”

  “What I’m hearing is that you had a woman, but you weren’t able to keep her interest.”

  “Or… she didn’t keep mine.” Anders’ voice went up a notch, and he forced it back down.

  “Because you’re incapable of focusing. On anything. Do you know any other twenty-one-year-olds who have never had a steady girlfriend or a steady job for more than a month?”

  Anders didn’t like where this was going. “Do you know any other fifty-year-olds who haven’t gotten laid in over a decade?”

  “If you ever come to me with some disease or say you’ve gotten some girl pregnant—”

  “We’ve all had our annuals and birth control implants.” Anders couldn’t stop himself from interrupting, breaking rule number three in his mental handbook on pwning his dad in a who’s-most-unflappable contest. But he powered through. “You were hovering next to me for mine, remember? Watching the doctor inject it. Maybe you should hover next to me in my bedroom the next time I have a girl over. You obviously need lessons.”

  His dad’s brows rose slightly with amusement, and a dimple appeared on his face. Anders felt his calm slipping, replaced with the urge to punch his dad in the jaw.

  “If you can’t pass high school without me stepping in,” his father said, “show up for a job, abide by the law, and keep your pants on around women, then why should I trust you to show up to the Coalition’s mandatory exams, or to do anything else correctly?”

  Anders was silent for a moment, trying to get his blood pressure down. He had plenty of low blows for his dad, but he had to sort them into something coherent first.

  His father gave a quick shake of his head. “I’m reinstating my access to the GPS tracker on your bike. I’ll also be cutting your allowance. It’s time for you to find another job.”

  Anders couldn’t speak. He could barely keep his face straight. His dad always found new excuses to try to control him… and he always would. At least he hadn’t yet figured out Anders had removed the tracker in his bike.

  The comm on his father’s belt went off. He activated it and listened to the voice on the other end without ever taking his eyes off Anders.

  Anders stared back, his arms crossed over his chest, trying to look outwardly calm. But his blood was starting to boil inside him. His dad was such a fucking hypocrite, acting self-righteous about good decision-making when he’d made so many bad ones.

  His worst decision was continuing to serve the Corporate Coalition after all they’d done. He upheld laws that didn’t apply to the corporations that made them. They were liars and thieves, yet no law could touch them or bring them down—they’d made sure of that. His father helped the Coalition keep inconvenient truths hidden from the citizens and provided them with “security.” The citizens didn’t seem to notice or care that they were exchanging that security for their privacy and all the freedoms people in America used to have.

  “I’ll be there in ten for the briefing,” his dad finally said. Then he swept his mug off the counter and placed it in the dishwasher.

  “Sta
y away from downtown today, Anders,” he said. “People are stocking up because they’re nervous that quarantine could spread… it’s not going to, but MetaTransport won’t be able to keep up with demand.”

  Anders narrowed his eyes at his dad’s back and watched him walk to the door at the other end of the kitchen.

  “Maid service is coming by in the afternoon, too, so I hope you didn’t leave anything too disgusting for them upstairs.”

  Anders wished his dad would just get the fuck gone already.

  “By the way,” his father continued, opening the door to the garage, “I installed a new tracker on your bike three days ago. If you attempt to remove it, I’ll get an alert. And if you go anywhere near your uncle’s house again, you will no longer have a vehicle.”

  His dad turned back to look at Anders, his eyes bright with victory, then stepped into the garage and slammed the door.

  Anders ran his hands through his hair and closed his eyes. He leaned over the island, pissed off, yet smiling as he tried to think of a way to overcome the latest obstacle his dad had thrown in his path.

  What did the tracker do? It sent GPS data to his dad, straight from unhackable servers.

  If he couldn’t remove the tracker easily, then he’d have to make it report data he liked better. He’d have to trick it into believing it was somewhere else. Or trick his father’s gear into thinking it was viewing his tracker when it wasn’t. But Calliope6 made trackers and tracking software that were supposed to be impossible to hack into.

  Everything’s only impossible until I do it.

  Anders went to the wall of cupboards and gestured, his muscles tight with frustration. A 2D display emerged from one white square, and he gestured again, telling the espresso maker to pull him a quadruple shot with enough sugar to dull the bitter taste of it.

  As fun as it would be hack into Calliope6’s GPS software, it wasn’t worth the risk of being caught. Being underestimated was an advantage Anders intended to keep.

  That meant he was stuck taking the simplest and most boring route. He had all his dad’s passwords, so he’d log into his network account, deactivate the alert he’d set up, and remove the new tracker from his bike.

 

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