“And where do you fall, Ruby? On which end of the spectrum do you land?”
“That’s a hard question to answer – there are several to consider. Egocentric to altruistic. Passive to sadistic. Virtuous to malevolent. Materialistic to charitable. Cruel to kind. It goes on and on, and any combination, along with the right rhetoric and charm… can rule.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Her hair fell in smooth, bone straight layers around her bare shoulders as she took a deep breath. “It’s not, is it?” She nodded a little, closing her eyes, and then looked right at me. “There are people who would refer to me as one vicious bitch. And they wouldn’t be wrong – it’s required of any queen who wishes to rule her own kingdom, and I very much want that. But there is not one who could argue that I’m not fair, or I’m cruel without cause. No one goes hungry here, who is willing to work. A woman can walk the streets of the Burrows mostly without fear, and those who would jeopardize that face swift, severe consequences. That all sounds good, right?”
I nodded. “It does.”
“It should. And it is what I strive for. But I do those things because it makes a good leader – not because I give a fuck. I don’t give a fuck, about most people, not anymore. I think my presence in a room improves both the room and the people in it by at least four or five times over. I’m vengeful as a motherfucker, and I never forget when I’m owed a favor. I like violence. Not loud, impersonal guns – blades. Something where your hands get dirty. I like pain.”
I kept my mouth closed because I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know where she was going with this, but I didn’t dare interrupt her.
“Do you know why I’m telling you these things, Alyson?” she asked, and I shook my head.
“Because you asked where I fell on the spectrum. Do you understand now why I said it was a difficult question to answer?”
“I do.”
“Good.” She smiled. “Back to that bone I had to pick with you then – you’ve turned yourself into an outlaw. I can’t go back to Harriet after having your hands in my head, so what the hell is supposed to be my bright spot in the fucking Apex now?”
My eyes went wide. “I’m sorry. I’ll be in the Burrows indefinitely, so maybe I can just… do your hair here?”
“Oh you were already going to do that, Alyson,” she told me, pulling herself up to full height. “And it is a small price to pay for me risking my diplomatic status to get your grandmother out of the Mids before Adam Bishop tried to use her as leverage.”
I nodded. “That’s no problem at all, and I wouldn’t dare complain. Thank you so much for doing this me for me.”
“I didn’t do it for you,” Ruby snapped. “Paying for the medicine to make your grandmother more comfortable? That was for you. This is for Mari.”
“What?” I asked, nearly choking on my tongue. “Did you know my mother?!”
She tipped her head, just slightly. “I didn’t know her as your mother though. You had to have been just a little girl, at school during the day, but she used to do my hair, at the salon. I had to stop going once I was married – Baron didn’t think it was prudent. By the time I had the autonomy to go back, she was gone. She was always kind. The closest thing to a therapist I’ve ever had. I should have known, as soon as I saw you, but I’d blocked it out, like I try to do with most painful things. But when you cried about your grandmother, I looked you up. And now I know you inherited those magic hands.”
I was too stunned to say anything. I knew my mother had worked at the salon – I’d spent afternoons there under her tutelage, before Lori was ever in the picture. It was my mother’s legacy that had gotten me the coveted placement behind a chair to start off, instead of working my way up from the shampoo bowls. But it had never, ever occurred that Ruby might know her – that some of the same wisdom she’d given me, she’d been able to offer another young woman.
It made my eyes water.
“You should get to your grandmother, she’s been asking about you,” Ruby said, before I could formulate a response. “You should also know that moving her was ill-advised, but I understood why it needed to be done, and so did she. She insisted.”
“She did?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “The doctor at the facility, and the doctor attending to her now, they agree. She has very little time left. For that reason–along with a hefty payoff – they let me leave with her, taking no record, and with camera footage destroyed. The Apex doesn’t know she’s here. But I don’t know how long that will be the case. Your saving grace is that the APF cannot operate in the Burrows. They want your sister though.”
“Why?”
“I wish I knew,” she said. “I live for exploitation of power, but I don’t care to help the Apex do anything. It’s a horrible fucking place – I grew up there, I should know. The last thing they need is another brilliant, stolen mind to help progress their agenda.”
“So you won’t turn us in? To make me owe you a favor?”
Ruby scoffed. “You already owe me enough favors, Alyson. But no. From me, you have nothing to worry about.”
“Should I ignore the obvious implication that there’s someone else to worry about?”
“Absolutely not,” she shook her head. “You should keep that at the forefront of your mind.”
With that said, she walked away, leaving me alone in the foyer with my brain working overtime and no idea where to go. Just like before, a maid came from out of nowhere, motioning for me to follow her.
Finally, it was time to see my grandmother.
The scene I walked into made me smile – Nadiah, seated right up against the side of the bed, her hand clutched around Gran’s. Gran’s eyes were open, which I thought was a good thing until Nadiah looked up, with tears in her own eyes. She mouthed something that made my chest hurt.
She’s blind.
I’d seen that word on a list of issues associated with renal failure, so it wasn’t surprising. Not that “unsurprising” made it better.
“Is that my Alyson? I’d know that energy anywhere. Come here lil’ smart-mouthed girl.” Gran held up her free hand, motioning for me to come to the other side of the bed, and I did. “Tell me,” she said, “Is this some elaborate hoax to get me to tell your mama’s business?”
I grinned, blinking back tears. “I wish it was.”
“I know. I know.”
“Then you know what the situation is. You know Nadiah is in direct danger, which means we all are,” I said, ignoring the warning look Nadiah shot me. “If there’s anything we need to know…”
Gran shook her head as she squeezed my hand. “Nothing you need to know. Nothing that will change the situation we’re in now. But know that your parents were willing to give their lives to make this a better world for you. I can’t give you any details, by design. I never wanted to be wrapped up in that – didn’t want to give anybody a single lick of nothing against my child. But I knew that. That they weren’t just sitting idly by, conceding to the oppression.”
I pushed out a breath, closing my eyes as the meaning of her words sank in.
“They were part of an opposition group.”
That possibility had played in my head many times since my conversation with Gran at the care facility, and I’d discussed it with Nadiah down in that tunnel. Now, it wasn’t a possibility.
This was confirmation.
An answered question that launched a million more, ones that Gran had already admitted she couldn’t answer.
This was enough though.
Suddenly, everything looked and felt so much different – all my memories taking on a brand-new context. I’d called up the memory of the last time I saw them hundreds, maybe thousands of times. I always felt the tiniest inkling they’d hugged us tighter, kissed us sweeter, lingered just a little longer than usual, like they may have suspected it might be the last time.
Might be.
So what happened?
The official line about the explosion
at the gate between the Mids and Apex had always been “terror attack”, by a resistance group from the Burrows. I remembered it – they forced it down our throats, playing it on the wall panel video screens like it was must-see TV. They’d executed the perpetrators. Reinforced the borders and made everything safe for us again, by implementing stricter rules than before, the ones we suffered under now.
I’d always thought they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time – civilian casualties of someone with a bone to pick against the Apex, or APF. Now though, I had to wonder… were my parents the “terrorists”?
Nadiah shifted the conversation to something else, and I followed her lead. There was nothing to gain but satisfaction of my personal curiosity, which could wait.
Spending time with Gran while I still could was a much more pressing matter.
I look a mess.
Maddox had dropped me off back at his place and then left to handle some sort of business, so I was free to examine myself now. Gran was safe, Nadiah was safe, I was safe, so it felt – marginally, at least – like an appropriate time to find myself in the bathroom mirror, taking inventory.
Of my bumps, nicks, and bruises, yes, but also of the bags under my eyes, past-expiration date braids, and some unidentified odor I was sure had embedded itself in my hair from our time in that damned tunnel.
I had to do something about it.
I found a pair of scissors and snipped, cutting my long braids to the length where my hair ended, around my shoulders. What I would do with it once the braids were out, I didn’t know, but I knew it was well past time to do something about it.
And maybe changing my hair would help shake the Mids off of me.
I sat down in front of a bookshelf and picked something that sounded promising – History Untold. With the large book settled in my lap, I started the process of unraveling my braids, sometimes with one hand while I used the other to turn pages.
I wasn’t going as fast as I hoped.
My hair was dirty and tangled, still dotted with the occasional half-undone braid when Maddox came strolling in, head bobbing to whatever was playing in his ears, and a large paper sack of something that smelled amazing in his hands.
Any other time I’d thought I was embarrassed in front of him was nothing compared to right now.
At least it would’ve been, if he’d done anything except give me a sympathetic smile as he dropped the bag in his hands onto the counter, then came towards me.
“You need help?” he asked.
Yes.
“You don’t have to,” I told him. “It’s a slow process, and I—”
“Only because you’re using your hands – there're combs and shit in the bathroom.” His eyebrows went up, like he’d realized something. “But you didn’t want to snoop around.”
I nodded, and he grinned.
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s get this finished.”
A few minutes later, I was seated between his legs, working through the much-easier process of taking down my braids with a proper tool. Between the two of us, it took less than thirty minutes to get the rest out, then dispose of the smelly, matted pile of synthetic hair left behind.
“You need me to wash it for you?”
My eyes were wide as I looked up at him, wondering if I’d heard what I thought I did. “Did… did you just offer to wash my hair for me?”
“… yes? I mean, I’m not a professional like you, but I do a decent job with my own, and I’ve got products and shit here. Unless you—”
“That would be amazing,” I interrupted, before he could offer whatever other options he thought there were. Him helping me take my hair down, helping me wash it, were things I hadn’t considered, but I wasn’t about to turn it down, though I felt nervous as hell about it.
Especially once I realized he intended to do it in the shower.
“You don’t have to get naked,” he told me, chuckling over what had to be a ridiculous look on my face. I’d followed him into the bathroom, thinking he was just showing me his products – high-end stuff I’d only ever seen in the salon, and couldn’t afford to use on my own hair – but then he’d taken his clothes off.
It wasn’t that washing my hair in the shower wasn’t sensible – it was pretty much how I always did it, to use as little water as possible.
I’d just never been in a shower with Maddox – or hell, any man – before.
But, as the course of my life over the last few months had proven… there was a first time for everything.
I stripped down to my bra and panties and got in the shower.
It had been a long, long time since I’d had someone else’s hands in my hair, and I’d forgotten just how good it felt. The clarifying shampoo had the best kind of slight tingle, amplified by the fact that Maddox knew what he was doing – his fingers were firm and nimble along my scalp, massaging and cleaning so good I couldn’t help closing my eyes.
“Feels good to you?” he asked, laughter in his tone as he pulled the shower head down from the wall, using it to rinse the cleanser from my hair.
I tipped my head back, keeping the water from running down my face. “Yeah. It does. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he told me, as he replaced the shower sprayer, and picked up the shampoo again for a second round. “You were reading when I came in – you found something interesting?”
“Yeah, actually. I was looking at the Burrows history, kinda hoping to run into something about this bombing that happened in the Mids.”
“The one you mentioned, where your parents died?”
My eyes narrowed. “I mentioned that to you?”
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Damn near bit my head off about it, the day I took you to see Blue. You kinda blamed the Burrows for their death, since I guess a resistance group from here did it?”
I sighed. “Yeah. I remember, but the thing is, I’m not sure I had the real facts about that now.”
“If your facts came from the Apex, I can guarantee it. But, if it was a group from the Burrows, you’ll find it in one of these books around here. Or you can ask Mos – he’s been working on a database, with some others. Trying to build us an internet.”
“That explains why Nadiah was so intent on getting back to him today,” I laughed.
And why Ches was so eager and nice to Nadiah when we were here before. She knew Nadiah could help…
Maddox laughed too. “Nah, I doubt that’s what those two are up to.”
“Oh my God, don’t say that!”
He laughed harder. “Fine, I won’t say it, but you know I’m right.”
“Definitely not the point.”
He was still laughing as he pulled the shower head down again, stepping in front of me this time. When I tipped my head back, I was looking right in his face while he worked – shower spray in one hand to rinse away the shampoo, the other hand slipping through my hair to make sure it was all out.
He had me surrounded.
And he was staring.
“What?” I asked, when he lowered the sprayer, but didn’t move to do anything else.
“Nothing. You’re just really fucking beautiful, that’s all.”
I raised my head, sending rivulets of clean water streaming down my face from my freshly washed hair, but that was better than being exposed like I was with my head tipped back. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Without turning, he reached backward, hooking the sprayer back in place. A moment later, his hand was under my chin, tipping my face up to his. With his free hand, he wiped the water from my face.
And kept staring.
“What is this?” I asked, without intending to. The question was on my mind, sure, but I hadn’t meant to speak it out loud.
“What is what?”
“This,” I repeated, like that one word explained anything. “You bringing me coffee, and sending help, and me staying here, and you washing my hair. And staring at me. What is this?”
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“I want you to tell me the truth.”
“The truth is that I don’t know,” he shrugged, then wiped fresh streams of water from my eyes. “But if you want it to stop—”
“I don’t.”
“Then why the hell are we talking about it?”
Because it feels too good to be true. Because this has to be some vivid dream.
I didn’t say that though.
I said, “I don’t know,” which wasn’t untrue.
But then his lips were on mine, and I didn’t care to think about it anymore.
All I cared about was his tongue in my mouth and his arm around my waist, and kissing him back with just as much heat as he was giving me. I pressed myself against him, digging my fingers into the firm ridges of his body, tracing and caressing his slopes and lines.
A little surge of satisfaction rushed through me when I felt him growing hard against my stomach. That satisfaction spurred me to slip a hand between us, cupping him through the wet fabric of his boxers.
“Shit, Aly,” he groaned against my mouth. “I promised myself I would stay out of you for at least a few days.”
I nipped his bottom lip with my teeth, a trick I’d learned from him that night at my house. “Why would you do that, Maddox? Inside me is exactly where I’d like you to be.”
For a moment, he went still, giving me a look that sent a ripple of fear over my soaked skin.
And then, he turned me around, pressing me against the smooth wall of the shower. Bra off, panties off, boxers off, and then he was inside me from behind, with none of the resistance of that first time, at my house. My body adjusted, happily contracting around him, adding to our natural, delectable friction.
“Feel good to you?”
Shit.
There was that question again, with a different object of my enjoyment this time.
“Yesss,” I whimpered, as his teeth sank into my shoulder.
Good wasn’t the word though.
Incredible was a much more accurate depiction of what I was feeling as he stroked me from behind, hooking an arm under my thigh to lift it, giving him better access. I slipped a little on the wet floor, but Maddox had ahold of me, keeping me in place as he moved. Without my own leverage, I was powerless to do anything except take what he was giving – a position I wouldn’t have given up for the world, at least not at that moment.
Wonder Page 19
