Freaks in the City (20 page)

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Authors: Maree Anderson

Tags: #young adult, #ya, #cyborgs, #young adult paranormal, #paranormal romance series, #new zealand author, #paranormal ya, #teenage cyborg, #maree anderson, #ya with scifi elements

BOOK: Freaks in the City
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Jay rose from the bed and wandered to the
window. Tweaking aside the curtain she peered outside, into the
neighboring garden. Her gaze fixed on the tree she’d climbed to spy
on Tyler and Matt. It had been an extremely successful mission.
She’d discovered the secret that had bound Tyler to Nessa, and the
extent of Shawn’s involvement. It had also reassured her that Matt
was at heart a good person, meaning she’d not been forced to take
steps to “discourage” him from pursuing Caro.

Fifi, the elderly neighbor’s dog wandered
into view. It squatted to urinate beneath a scraggly bush, then
trotted off to lie in a patch of sun. Jay smiled as it rolled on
its back and wiggled its body, scratching its back on the coarse
grass. For some inexplicable reason its antics had always amused
her.

She turned her attention to Michael’s
laptop. While she’d been daydreaming, time had ticked onward. Now
she had but six minutes to crack his password. She booted it up and
sure enough, there was a bios level password to contend with. She’d
have been disappointed to find anything less. She sat in the chair,
put her unopened soda on the desk, and got to work.

Michael stuck his head through the doorway
to find her perusing a promising job possibility within easy
walking distance of her home. “I gave you just over a minute extra
to get up here and get started,” he said. “I see I shouldn’t have
bothered.”

She didn’t tell him she’d wasted over half
the allotted time lost in the past and watching Fifi from the
window. That would be rubbing salt into the wound. “I am an
exception rather than a rule,” she said. “There would be few people
who could have gotten in this quickly.”

“Gonna tell me how you did it?”

“Of course not. Where would be the fun in
that?”

“Touché.” He mock-saluted her. “I’ll leave
you to it.”

“I promise I won’t snoop,” she said as he
turned away.

He paused and half-turned back to her. “I’ve
got nothing to hide. Not anymore.”

“I know. It was simply meant as the kind of
reassurance I presume one would give in this situation.”

His lips quirked. “When a
super-computer-savvy cyborg is using your laptop, you mean.”

“Yes. And I meant what I said. I won’t
snoop… unless you wish me to assess your teaching materials.”

“Thanks but no thanks. I reckon I can
manage.”

“I reckon so, too.”

Seven minutes later, Caro wandered into the
study. “Got it sorted yet?”

“There was nothing much to sort.” Jay popped
the tab on her soda and chugged half the contents.

“Don’t know how you can do that without your
eyes watering and your taste buds going numb with shock,” Caro
said.

Jay set the soda aside. “Mad cyborg skills
have to be good for something.”

“So. Whatcha doin’?” Caro perched on the
edge of the desk and swung her jeans-clad leg. She paused on the
second swing and pointed her toes, rotating her ankle to the left
and then right. “What d’you think about these boots?”

“Other than your mother not insisting you
take them off when you’re inside?”

“Mom’s a bit distracted about other stuff
right now. You know, in case you hadn’t noticed. Seriously, what do
you think?”

Jay cast her gaze over the mid-calf-length
high-heeled boots that laced up the front. “They’re very—” She
searched for the right word. “Cute.”

Caro’s brows drew together and her lips
curved downward.

Uh oh, wrong word. “I mean ‘cute’ in a
retro, high-fashion way.”

The frown turned upside down. “Got them on
sale at this amazing boutique. I’ve been paying them off but I
picked them up last week.”

“An excellent investment,” Jay said, because
it seemed the right thing to say.

“I thought so, too. They look hot with
tights and a short skirt, too—very versatile.”

“What’s with all the black?” Jay asked,
wondering whether Caro had eschewed the jewel tones she usually
favored because such colors were no longer “in”.

Her friend shrugged. “I’m behind on the
laundry so I had to pack light. And black goes with everything.”
She tugged on the neckline of the black lace shirt she wore over a
tight black tank. “Too much?”

Jay shook her head. “Not with your hair. The
combination is rather stunning—like you’re a slim black candle and
your hair is the flame.”

Caro leaned over to plant a kiss on her
cheek. “Best. Friend. Ever.”

“In answer to your first question, I’m
checking out situations vacant.”

“For you, or Tyler?”

“Me. Tyler has enough to do already.”

Caro’s eyes widened. “You haven’t blown
through all your father’s inheritance already, have you?”

“No, of course not.” She could still
purchase a small country. Or perhaps two.

“Then enlighten me, grasshopper, why on
earth would you want to go out and work if you don’t have to?”

Jay reached for her soda and swirled the
contents around in the can. How strange that the simple act of
holding something in one’s hand could make one feel less
vulnerable, as if a mere can of cola had the power to take the
emotional sting from answering awkward questions. “Normal people
our ages have jobs to help pay our way through college, or what
have you. I want to understand what it’s like to be employed. I
want to be—”

“Normal?”

“Yes.”

“This is about Tyler, isn’t it?”

Jay cocked her head and fixed Caro with a
look that she hoped conveyed mild helplessness. “Isn’t
everything?”

Caro snickered and then sighed. “Lemme
guess. Dumbass is too proud to accept any financial help from you,
which is why he’s living in that dump with Bongo and Wolowitz,
and—”

“Bongo and Wolowitz?”

“Pete’s best friend is his bong, which is
just one of the many reasons why he can’t hold onto a girlfriend.
And Chandler has this whole waaay too tight skinny jeans and loud
shirts thing going on, like Howard Wolowitz from—”

“The Big Bang Theory.”


And
—” Caro rolled her eyes at yet
another interruption when she was so obviously on a roll “—that’s
also why he won’t move into what I can only assume is a really
gorgeous space because you have excellent taste when it comes to
housing.”

“You’re a very smart, intuitive person Caro
Davidson.”

Caro huffed on her pearly-tinted nails and
buffed them on her shirt. “I have my moments.”

“Do you have any advice for me?” Jay
asked.

“When it comes to my brother? I say go for
it. Get a job. Get a life that doesn’t revolve around him. He’ll
soon figure out he’s being ridiculous.”

Jay couldn’t stop her own brows from
crinkling as Caro’s words sank in. “Does my life truly revolve
around Tyler?”

Caro’s
I’m-telling-you-this-for-your-own-good expression softened. “Kinda.
Look, I understand. You want to make things easier for him. You
want the best for him. It’s called being in love. But if you truly
want to be ‘normal’ then you have to start thinking about what’s
best for you, too. Do you
want
to get a job?”

“I think it would be… enlightening.”

“That’s one word for it, I guess. At least
with your super-cyborg-skills you can pretty much pick and choose.
What have you found so far?”

“This one looks interesting.” Jay angled the
laptop toward Caro.

Caro scanned the page. A laugh burst from
her throat. “Omigod. You
so
need to apply for that one.”

“Really?”

“Really. Seriously, Jay. This would be
perfect for you. I mean it.” Caro squeezed her shoulder.

Jay didn’t believe Caro would mislead her
for the purpose of inflicting humiliation but she couldn’t
understand the glee that was pouring off her friend in waves. “Then
what is so amusing?”

“Just picturing the expression on my
brother’s face when he discovers what you’ve chosen as a career
path.”

 

~~~

 

 

 

Chapter Ten

The phone’s harsh blare shattered Nessa’s
daydreams. She vaulted off the bed, scattering the fashion
magazines Jay had bought for her. She sprinted from the room. A
moment’s indecision at the doorway… she’d never make it to the
downstairs phone in time. She turned right and headed for Jay’s
room. Her heart beat a rapid tattoo in her chest. Please let it be
the café calling to say she’d gotten the job. Please! She snatched
the phone from the cradle. “Hello?”

“Hello, Nessa.”

Her hopes shriveled. She’d recognize that
cold, soulless voice anywhere. Her legs wouldn’t hold her upright
anymore and she folded like a ragdoll until her butt hit the floor.
“H-how did you get this number? Jay told me it’s unlisted.”

“I have my ways. I haven’t heard from you in
a while. What else do you have to report?”

She closed her eyes and mustered every last
scrap of courage she had. Her mouth was so dry she had to swallow a
couple of times to work enough moisture into her mouth to get the
word out. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“That’s right.”

“I see.”

Deep breath, Nessa. “Look, Sixer. Jay and I
have our issues but she’s been really good to me, buying me clothes
and cooking me meals and letting me stay and all.” She was
gabbling. She knew it but she couldn’t stop herself. “I don’t want
to spy on her. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“You have changed your tune. Now you call
being half-strangled an ‘issue’. Interesting.”

His attitude piqued Nessa’s temper. He spoke
to her like he thought she was too stupid to think for herself.
“She had a nightmare, okay? She dreamed her boyfriend was
dead—like, over and over. It did her head in. She was half-asleep
when she lashed out. She didn’t meant to hurt me.”

“Interesting.”

“Will you freaking well quit saying that?
Jeez!” Seconds later, realizing what she’d said, the way she’d
spoken to him, she choked on the moan welling up in her throat.
This was not a man to lose your temper with.

“You’re in her bedroom—her private domain.
Correct?”

Her skin crawled. Bile rose in her throat.
She swallowed it down, willing herself not to retch. The only way
he could know that was if he was watching her. Right now.
“Yes.”

“Search it.”

“What do you want? Her laptop or
something?”

“Relax, Nessa. I don’t want her laptop—she
wouldn’t risk storing anything important externally. I merely wish
to see Jay through your eyes—to gain valuable insight, if you will.
I want you to search her room and take a mental note of anything
that seems strange or out of place. I’m more interested in what you
don’t
find. You have one hour.”

“But—”

“No buts, Nessa. If you want the money I
promised you, you’ll do as I ask.”

“I don’t want your money!” Bastard thought
money was the answer to everything—just like Shawn.

“Do this one thing for me, Nessa, and I will
leave you alone.”

Hope made her voice squeaky. “Y-you
promise?”

“So long as you keep to our agreement, I
give you my word.”

Nessa stifled a hysterical giggle.
Agreement? Some agreement. He’d sucked her in with the offer of
money, then scared her witless by telling her exactly what would
happen to her if she told anyone about him and what he’d asked her
to do. Jay’s nightmare about Tyler dying had nothing on Nessa’s
nightmares.

“Fine.” She hung up on him, gasping at her
own daring. She wrapped her arms about her middle and sucked in one
deep breath after another.

When she’d calmed, she crawled to her feet
and glanced about the room, wondering where to start, knowing she
would have to be careful not to disturb anything. But people had a
sixth sense about stuff like this. They could walk into their
bedroom and know their private space had somehow been violated.
God. What was she going to do?

She knew Tyler was expecting her to pull
something—just waiting for her to step out of line. And Jay…. Jay
trusted her. Now she was going to have to break that trust and
prove Tyler right.

Tears of frustration and anger pricked her
eyes. Fuck. It wasn’t frickin’ fair! She itched to pick up the
phone and call Jay, warn her, beg for help. But Sixer was out
there, somewhere, watching. And she knew—knew with the utmost
certainty—he didn’t make idle threats. She didn’t want to be
another statistic, a no-hoper who’d ended her life broken and
battered and dead in a Dumpster, victim of a supposed drug deal
gone wrong. She wanted to live.

The phone rang again and she jumped like a
startled cat. OhGodohGodohGod. What did he want now? “H-hello?”

“Vanessa Harris, please.”

Nessa clutched the phone receiver. Her heart
went pit-a-pat—in a good way this time. “Speaking.”

“Miss Harris, this is Carrie Sparkes from
Café Au Lait. I was very impressed with you at the interview and I
think you’d fit in very well with our team. The job is yours, if
you still want it.”

“Omigosh. Really?”

Carrie’s throaty chuckle sliced the raw edge
off Nessa’s fears. “Yes, really. I take it you’re still keen?”

Nessa closed her eyes and pulled herself
together. “Yes. Absolutely.”

“I know it’s short notice, but can you come
in tonight? I’d like to introduce you to the rest of the crew, show
you the ropes—that sort of thing. Plus I’ve some paperwork for you
to fill in. And if it’s okay with you, I’d like you to start
tomorrow.”

“That would be great!”

“Excellent. See you at nine? I can make it
earlier if that suits you better.”

“Nine is fine.”

“Lovely. See you then.”

Carrie rang off and Nessa stood there, still
clutching the phone receiver, shocked to her core. Carrie had been
impressed
with her. She hadn’t screwed it up.

She had a job. She had a job! She hugged
herself, unable to stop what was doubtless a big goofy grin
stretching her lips. She owed Jay big-time. She’d never have gotten
the job if Jay hadn’t bought her some decent clothes, given her a
place to stay, helped with her résumé. Hah! Just wait ’til she told
Tyler.

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