Wonder

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Wonder Page 9

by Christina C Jones


  His fingers pressed harder, faster against me as he curved his body, stretching over my shoulder to connect his mouth to mine. It was a good thing too, because a few seconds later I came unglued.

  I couldn’t move.

  Couldn’t breathe.

  Wasn’t sure I was conscious, with my heartbeat roaring in my ears, and my eyes shut so tight I saw stars. I moaned, long and loud, but Maddox swallowed it with a kiss that seemed to drag out the tightness in the pit of my stomach, and intensified the blissful feeling between my legs.

  After a few moments, I pulled back, breathless and weak in the knees, only upright because of the hold Maddox had around my waist. Now that I wasn’t dancing, now that I was coming down from my high, the thought of looking him in the face mortified me. I did it anyway though, needing to see if he was laughing at me for being as easy of a target as I felt like now.

  Of course, he wasn’t.

  Still, I staggered back a little as the lights came on, and I saw how many people were around us. It was easy to be bold and brazen in the dark, when everyone was focused somewhere else, but in the light, I couldn’t believe what I’d just done.

  With someone I barely know.

  “Aly…” Maddox spoke, stepping toward me with a clear intention of taking me by the arms. I backed away though, turning to dart through whatever openings I could find in the crowd until I made my way back up the first stairs, and then the second, and then to my room.

  As I fumbled to get the key from where I stashed it in my bra, my wet panties stuck to me, reminding me of what I’d done. I abandoned the door to my room, going to the bathroom instead to wash up, leaving the underwear in the laundry bin beside the door.

  In the mirror, my eyes landed on my neck – I’d been marked. Not even ten minutes ago I’d wanted this, and now all I wanted to do was scrub the evidence off.

  What the hell is wrong with you, Aly?

  I wasn’t this girl. One with no inhibitions, no regard for what people thought. I was regular old Alyson. The one who had no fun. Who went to work, and paid bills, and did what was required.

  Alyson Little was responsible.

  Swallowing tears, I left the bathroom, peeking to make sure Maddox wasn’t there before I darted to my room, key in hand. I slipped inside, flipping the light on and going for the stash of panties to snag a fresh pair to put on.

  “There you are,” I heard from behind me, nearly jumping out of my skin as I pulled the underwear past my thighs.

  I looked back to see Nadiah sitting up in bed, under the covers, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she yawned.

  I must have woken her up.

  “I brought you a sandwich and stuff,” she said, her eyes still only half open as she pointed to the dresser – where I was standing. “But you weren’t here when I came back, so I washed up and went to bed. It’s still raining. But Ches says she has people keeping an eye out for it stop, so we can go back.”

  I cleared my throat as I made sure my dress was down. “Um… awesome. And thank you for the sandwich.”

  “You probably ate with Maddox, huh?” she grinned.

  “What? No. I went to get something to eat, but then I got distracted. So like I said, thanks for the sandwich.”

  Her smile broadened. “Distracted by Maddox?”

  “Dammit, Nadiah, give it a rest,” I snapped, regretting it as soon as it came out of my mouth, but saying nothing to take it back. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk about it –though I didn’t want to talk about it.

  I couldn’t.

  “Fine, Aly. Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I’m sorry for snapping at you. I’m just exhausted, and ready to go.”

  Nadiah’s hurt expression slid to sympathy, as she waved me toward her. “Okay, well, you may as well come lay down. We can’t go anywhere until the weather clears, so get some rest. I won't complain if you bring the sandwich.”

  I laughed and shook my head. “I don’t have an appetite, but I will come and lay down.”

  Just like when we were kids, sharing a room in the house we were in now. Just like then, we giggled as we snuggled under the covers together, tuning out all the horrible shit enough to feel normal.

  It was soothing, and familiar, and easy to cling to that, instead of worrying about our future in the Mids, and wondering how Harriet would react about me taking her client. Instead of thinking about Maddox.

  I laid on my side, smiling as I listened to Nadiah gush about how cute Mosely was, and how smart he was, and how nice he was, and how he’d kissed her on the cheek when they parted. This was how life should be for her, at nineteen, and I hated it couldn’t be this way all the time.

  But then I pushed that away too.

  And let her happy stories lull me to slumber.

  Nine

  There was this saying.

  Something about death and taxes being the only sure things. Even now, when we didn’t have America in our pockets, this was still true.

  Somebody was getting paid off somebody else.

  Sometimes there were those who thought they could get out of it.

  Sometimes I had to pay them a visit.

  I hated that shit, unlike some other soldiers, or whatever the hell Ches was calling us this week. I had no repressed anger to burn off anymore. Violence and intimidation didn’t make my dick hard anymore.

  It felt like a dangerous place to be – what did it mean for you when constant indulgence of all your dark, unrefined tendencies just wasn’t enough anymore? Where did you go from there?

  I didn’t want to end up like others I’d watched, on a constant cycle of sex, drugs, fights, and alcohol, always engaged in something to avoid thinking about anything.

  Feeling anything.

  This was the place for it if sedated excess was your thing. If you wanted to drift, numb, through a world made purely of your own imagination, until it consumed you, we had just the things for it.

  Tempting, sometimes, but I never indulged in more than a few too many shots of whiskey – the pills and shit weren’t for me. Alcohol was mood-altering enough, and in the moments where it wasn’t an option, I got comfortable with a feeling too many people around here were hellbent on chasing away.

  Boredom.

  That was what I felt strongest as I listened to Wally’s crooked ass try to talk his way out of the payment I was supposed to be retrieving. It was always an excuse with this motherfucker, and I’d been listening for damn near fifteen minutes while he wove an intricate web of bullshit to explain himself. As if I didn’t know the money he owed Ches was locked up in the back right now.

  “Are you done?” I asked, interrupting when I knew he wasn’t. He’d talked all the polite out of me.

  Wally’s eyes went wide for a second, but he recovered, running a hand over his smooth bald head, then along his bushy mustache. “My apologies, young Maddox – have I talked your ear off?”

  My only response was to shift positions, moving from leaning against the wall to standing on my feet, fists clenched on either side of me.

  That made his eyes go wider.

  “Now hold on just a moment,” he stammered, moving on to fingering one of many buttons on his olive-toned suit. “I’ve known Franchesca for years and years. Certainly she can show grace for an old friend who's fallen on hard times?” he asked, with a syrupy grin.

  My gaze landed on his fingers, glittering with diamonds, then shifted around, taking in the obvious opulence surrounding this motherfucker – opulence Ches had not only allowed, but helped facilitate.

  “That’s why she sent me,” I told him, remaining stone-faced. “Instead of one of those hotheads who would’ve already smashed your shit up by now. Cut the shit, Wally. You took over territory from Bill after he ‘fell’ off the ladder, and you’ve raised prices on your product – an unapproved price hike at that, but Ches let you rock. So enough excuses. Enough bullshit. Just run the money, that’s all.”

  “How about a negotiation?” Wally asked, st
ill intent on pressing his luck. “With so much changed, wouldn’t it be wise to revisit terms? Perhaps a lower percentage rate? Everyone still wi—Ahhhh!”

  All of Wally’s bluster disappeared as soon as I closed the distance to snatch him up by the collar. “I have a proposal for you,” I growled. “Pay what you owe, and I won’t smash your fucking head in. You get to stay in business. Ches gets her money. I get to go back to doing anything except looking at your ugly ass face. What do you say, Wally? How about that? Sound good to you?”

  I had his collar pulled so tight that his face was turning more of a maroon shade than his usual brown, but he nodded. Satisfied, I dropped him into a heap on the floor so he could scramble to his office to do what he should’ve done in the first damned place.

  Pay to play.

  It was the way of the world everywhere, but especially here. There was plenty of freedom to be had if you knew which rules to follow.

  Ten minutes later, I was back on my bike, pleased that I hadn’t had to pull anything from a holster to get my business handled. I dropped my packages off at the office as usual. Got my payment as usual. Went straight downstairs to the bar, like usual.

  Usual, usual, usual.

  Fuck.

  I miss Aly.

  “Damn, she didn’t even give you any, did she?” Mosley asked, dropping into a seat beside me.

  I frowned at him, knocking back the remaining liquor in my glass before I spoke. “What the hell are you talking about? Did I say that shit out loud?”

  Mosley chuckled, accepting a drink of his own – only me, him, and the bartender would know it was just soda, no liquor. “Nah… you’ve just been moping around here since they left, so I assumed.”

  I grunted, but didn’t deny it – wouldn’t deny it, not to him. My mood had been sour for the two or three days since Aly had made her presence felt, then dipped.

  She hadn’t been bold about it either.

  Nah, bold was not a word I’d use to describe her, and that wasn’t a critique, or a criticism – just a fact. She had other qualities I much preferred.

  “You gonna do something about it?” Mosley asked, and I grunted.

  “Something like what?”

  “Like going to see her,” he suggested, but I could tell by his tone, by the steady press of his gaze that there was more behind his words than just a friendly suggestion.

  I met his gaze, searching. “Why would I do that? That girl isn’t trying to have shit to do with me.”

  “Only because she doesn’t know you that well yet. I bet you could change her mind.”

  I stared at him a little longer, and it clicked.

  “Change her mind… and deliver a message to her little sister?”

  Mosley tried to keep his expression in line, but he couldn’t help it – a grin broke across his face, and he dropped his head. “Fine. Yes, I want you to give Nadiah something for me when you go.”

  “When?”

  “Yes, when,” he repeated, his tone confident. “I haven’t seen you this pressed over a woman since…”

  “Don’t say that shit, Mos,” I warned, with a fresh drink halfway to my lips. “Don’t you fucking do it.”

  “Chill, Mad,” he smirked, as I poured the liquor down my throat. “I’m not going to remind you how bad you used to have it for Ruby Hartford.”

  I choked, sputtering as the whiskey burned in my lungs. “What the fuck did I say?” I snapped, though the goofy look on Mosley’s face made it hard to be mad.

  “Man, Ruby is the finest woman in the Burrows, hands down – everybody wants her, there’s no shame in that.”

  “It’s not about shame,” I scolded him. “It’s about loyalty. Ches hears you talking about Ruby, you’ll learn what I’m talking about.”

  “Fine,” he shrugged. “Back to Nadiah and Aly. When are you going?”

  I sucked my teeth. “Who said I was going anywhere? I don’t know where in the Mids they live, and I’m not trying to get caught out there figuring that shit out either.”

  “That’s easy enough to find. We can put some Apex scouts on it.”

  He probably already knew.

  “You pushing this shit hard. She must have made an impression on you.”

  Mosley grinned, biting his bottom lip as he nodded. “Man, did you see her?”

  I did.

  Nadiah was a cute girl, and she was smart, so I understood his attraction. I wasn’t concerned with her though. Even if she hadn’t been what I considered too young for me, I was much more interested in her big sister.

  Alyson was beautiful.

  Deep brown skin, big expressive eyes, round nose, full lips on a heart-shaped face that exuded a certain purity.

  Innocence.

  But not immaturity.

  I wasn’t thinking about her face anymore now, but of her as a whole. Naivety could read as vapid, but that wasn’t Aly, not at all. As much as she didn’t know about the world beyond the Mids, she caught on, and adapted. And just like I’d told her the night before she left, she was courageous. She had heart. Lots, which was a quality in short supply around here.

  And she wasn’t jaded.

  That was rare.

  And so fucking attractive.

  “Why don’t you go,” I dared him, though now that he’d planted the idea in my head, I couldn’t shake it.

  Mosley frowned. “Nah. Too close to the Apex. I haven’t been back since… you know. What if I’m brainwashed or something? The closer I get to my old den, the stronger the mind control.”

  “Sounds like a bad excuse,” I joked, even though it wasn’t. I didn’t want Mosley any closer to the Apex than he had to be, which included the Mids. It had been hard enough getting him out the first time. If they got him back, they weren’t letting him go again.

  Then I’d have to fuck shit up.

  “What is it you’re trying to give Nadiah?”

  A different person may have been embarrassed, but Mosley grinned as he pulled something from his pocket, putting it on the table between us.

  “What the hell is this?” I asked, picking up the tiny device and turning it over in my hands. My eyes widened as I recognized the battery plugged into it, with an indicator light blinking green. “Is this a rechargeable battery pack?”

  Mosley nodded. “Yep. Solar, so it's undetectable. I gave her a loaded MP3 player, but you know the battery will only last so long. I want her to use it forever.”

  Chuckling, I ruffled a hand over his hair. “Look at you, with your romantic gifts and shit. You’re really digging this girl, huh? Even though you probably won’t see her again.”

  “This is why I need you to take her this charger, man. No matter who she meets in the Mids¸ I’ll always be the one who gave her the gift of music. Who’s gonna top that?”

  I shook my head. “Nobody.”

  “Damn right. So you’re gonna do this for me, right? Keep that flame burning for me?”

  I frowned. “You been watching those movies again?”

  “Just answer the question Mad,” he deflected, barely keeping a straight face.

  “I’m not about to make any promises,” I told him. “Maybe you and Nadiah hit it off, but the last time I saw Aly, she ran. I feel like that was a sign she wasn’t that fond of me.”

  Mosley’s eyes narrowed, and he scooted forward on his barstool, casting his gaze around the empty bar before he spoke. “Or maybe you scared the fuck out of her because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself?”

  My eyebrows lifted as I picked up my empty glass, wondering when the hell I’d taken the last drink. “Yeah, maybe. Even more reason to not show up at her door. If she’s afraid of me, how the hell do you think she will react to that?”

  “Maybe she’ll think it’s romantic?” Mosley countered, though we both knew that shit was weak. More likely, the best course of action was leaving her the hell alone.

  Even if it didn’t sit well with me.

  The pager at my hip went off, letting me know my pr
esence had been requested, by the only person with the power to do such a thing. I grabbed the charger and pocketed it, then tossed a few bills on the bar top for my drinks.

  “No promises,” I reminded Mosley, who was grinning way too broadly for me to be confident he understood. “I’m taking it in case.”

  “Of course,” he agreed, not losing any of that smugness. “I’ll get you that address just in case.”

  Ches wanted me to meet her in the garage.

  I already knew what that shit meant, so I dragged my feet getting there, not caring that taking my time might piss her off.

  She’d deal.

  Not that I liked to make pissing her off a habit, but Ches knew the day-to-day dealings with her soldiers wore on me – she knew I’d rather stay away. But just like with Wally, she’d called me anyway, because she knew I got shit done. However old this stuff got to me, I’d come when she called, out of a sense of duty.

  Loyalty.

  The kiss print tatted on my neck wasn’t there for nothing.

  I could hear them before I walked through the doors, loud chatter punctuated by the occasional shout. When I stepped in, it took my eyes a moment to adjust to the stark white light in the garage. Under its illumination, everything from the rows and rows of gleaming bikes to the varying shades of skin and hair and fabric were all tinted green – a small detail that only helped feed Ches’ obsession with the color.

  She wasn’t here yet.

  When my heavy footsteps got close enough to catch their attention, echoing off the thick concrete walls, the chatter quieted to nothing. I lifted my chin, acknowledging everyone at once and being careful not to make any specific eye contact – the last thing I needed was any of these motherfuckers, man, woman, non-binary, anybody, thinking I thought they were special.

  I didn’t.

  They were all part of that sameness I was so sick of.

  I made my way to the black Jeep that anchored the space – Ches’ Jeep – and took a seat against the front bumper, ignoring the stares. I crossed my arms and was damn near ready to close my eyes when I felt someone approaching me.

 

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