Two
July Twenty-Third
Veronica
“Veronica?”
The thin receptionist called her back first. Ronnie smiled at Justin one last time before following the woman down the long hallway. “How are you doing?”
the receptionist asked.
“Good.”
Ronnie took in all the brown wood lining the hallway, the space feeling warm and closed in.
“That’s great.”
The woman knocked on an open door. “Margaret, here’s Veronica.”
An older woman sat at a desk in the middle of a room, security stationed quietly in the corner.
Margaret smiled warmly. “Come in.”
Ronnie circled the chair and plopped down without hesitation. “Welcome.”
Margaret opened a folder in front of her as Ronnie tucked her legs under herself. “I’m going to go over these papers to get to know you better, see where you fit, and get you in our system. Since this is a fresh start, you’ll get a new name and we will inject a chip into your hand. Will there be a problem with either of those?”
“Nope.”
Ronnie met Margaret’s eyes without flinching.
“Okay, let’s get started.”
Margaret picked up a pen, “Do you have a name in mind?”
“Uh… I don’t know.”
Ronnie hesitated, “Whitney.”
It was the first thing that came to her after Lilith.
“Oh, that’s nice.”
Margaret penciled it in. “And a last name?”
Without a doubt, she blurted out, “Blu.”
She would’ve killed for that name as a teenager.
“B-L-U-E? Like the color?”
“No E.”
“Okay.”
Margaret jotted it down. “When is your birthday? If you want to change it you can, just keep it in six months from the original for health reasons.”
“Let’s do Halloween! No, too basic.”
She paused thinking. “October twenty first.”
Whitney was starting to enjoy the process and it was only a few days off from her actual birthday.
“How old are you now?”
“Twenty-Six.”
Margaret continued down her list, “Do you have any surviving immediate family?”
“My dad, but he’s a prick. I had two younger brothers who joined the military about six years ago. I lost contact with both of them, and I can’t tell you if they are alive or not.”
“What were their names?”
Margaret looked up from her paperwork.
“Andrew and Owen Davis.”
Whitney’s face flattened, thinking about how they had become estranged overtime.
“We do provide therapy if needed, free of charge. It’ll be in the packet we send home with you.”
“Thanks.”
Margaret cleared her throat. “So you’re the engineer, I’m glad you’re here. We can get you set up on Monday.”
“Yeah, I don’t think I was brought here to be a stripper,”
Whitney teased her.
Margaret smirked. “We do not have a need or occupation for exotic dancers.”
She closed the folder after the last few questions, “You will have two roommates. They were both raised here, and they’re helpful girls. One of the girls, Shianne, is my niece.”
“Alright.”
“If you need anything, call me. My number will be in your phone.”
Margaret stood to hug Whitney, then escorted her to the next step of her recruitment.
Justin
He watched Ronnie walk out of the room. She was a hot tiny thing and might be fun for a night or two, he thought to himself, knowing he wasn’t looking for anything serious. The whole reason he went to prison was because of his ex.
Forty-five minutes later, the receptionist came into the room, “Justin?”
He stood and followed her down a hallway. “How are you doing?”
“Fine,”
He sighed.
She knocked on the door frame. “Margaret, here’s Justin.”
“Come in.”
She smiled at him.
He noticed the guy in the corner shift his weight between his feet like he thought Justin was going to attack this lady before he sat down.
“We have a few things to go over,”
Margaret began, “I will start with that I looked up your information from Jay, and I want to let you know that we do believe in an initial second chance, but I do not want any negative attention or any reason to send you back. No fighting, or you will be forced to leave, this is your warning. Understood?”
Annoyance flared in his chest, his past already shadowing him here. “Yeah.”
He pressed his elbows into his knees, balling his hands together.
“Great, consider it forgotten with us.”
She softened her tone, “I’m going to go over these papers to help get to know you better. I see you’re an electrician, that’s perfect for our community. Since this is a new start, you will get a new name and a chip injected into your hand. Will there be a problem with either of those?”
“A what?”
“It’s an electronic chip, about this big.”
She pinched her fingers together. “It’s for identification, entry access and currency. That’s it.”
His brow drew down, “And if I don’t?”
“We have a place you can hang out until the next flight out of here.”
“Perfect, when is that?”
“ months.”
Margaret’s tone stayed calm and patient, “But Justin, I promise you, this isn’t something malicious. It’s just our advanced technology being put to use.”
He exhaled, pushing his back into the chair, reminding himself of what Jay had said. He wondered if his parole officer had started looking for him yet. “Alright, fine.”
“Wonderful. What name would you like?”
“I don’t care. Joe.”
He threw a name out without much thought.
“We already have three Joes. Do you need me to pick something?”
“No. My middle name is Fade, so… that, I guess.”
“Fade?”
She pressed the pen to the paper. “F-A-D-E?”
“Yes.”
“And a last name?”
Her eyes stayed on the form in front of her.
“I didn’t know I was going to have to come up with a whole new identity on the spot.”
“My apologies. Would you like some suggestions?”
He filtered through family names, “No. Zemanek.”
He spelled it out for her.
“And when is your birthday? If you would like to change it you can, just keep it in a six month range for health reasons.”
“My birthday is June twenty eighth.”
He leaned back in, lacing his fingers together.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-nine.”
She held his gaze briefly before her gaze dropped to his arms. “Any family members?”
Fade was used to having eyes trace his tattoos and thought nothing of it. “None that I care to talk about.”
Margaret jotted something down on the paper, “We have multiple therapists if you need them. I’ll send you home with a packet. Their information will be in there.”
“I don’t need therapy.”
Margaret set her pen down. “Just a precaution and never a bad thing.”
She flipped the folder closed. “Are you ready to move forward?”
He stood when she did. “Yes, ma’am.”
July Twenty-Fourth
Whitney
Her roommate, Shianne, had dragged her out of the house to join her at Community Day. Their other roommate, Emma, had opted out. Something about being engaged and not waiting to socialize. “Can we stop at whatever store to get another pack?”
Whitney asked.
“Another pack?”
Shianne glanced at her, confused.
“Of cigarettes?”
Whitney shifted in the passenger seat.
Shianne blinked at her. “We don’t have cigarettes here.”
Whitney pulled her sunglasses down, giving her a look. “You’re messing with me.”
“Uh…no. But they do have a substitute for smoking.”
“Great,”
Whitney said dryly, unbuckling her seat as they pulled into the community center parking lot. “Let’s stop on the way back since we are already here. How long do we have to be here anyway?”
Shianne shrugged. “Whenever.”
“I thought we had to come?”
Shianne flashed her a bright smile, “For me. Did you really want me to come alone?”
Whitney’s red lips parted in disbelief. “Yeah! I don’t want to be here.”
“Whitney, please! There’s free food and drinks, and it wouldn’t hurt to meet people.You know… socialize.”
Whitney glared at her roommate, weighing the promise of free food and drinks. “Fine.”
Shianne squealed, clapping her hands. “But you’re driving back,”
Whitney warned. “So no drinking for you.”
They entered the building and found a table with a few empty seats. Whitney didn’t bother introducing herself to anyone.
Shianne leaned in. “I’m looking to see if the guy I like is here.”
“Does he usually come to these things?”
Whitney set her purse next to her new roommate who had sat down.
“He hasn’t come in a while, probably a few years now. But he’s usually busy.”
“Okay listen.”
Whitney waved her off. “I’m getting a drink.”
She pointed to the obvious drink line, “You stay here and watch for your little crush to come.”
Patting Shianne on the shoulder, Whitney turned and wove through the tables toward the window handing out beverages. She stood behind the few people, waiting her turn and then felt a presence behind her as a man cleared his throat.
She turned , and there he was. “Oh, hey.”
Her brows lifted. “Interesting running into you here. Justin, right?”
“It’s apparently Fade now, you?”
“Fade?”
She repeated, “Whitney.”
She reintroduced herself, stretching out a hand. “Didn’t picture you coming to one of these.”
“I usually don’t.”
His tone was casual, almost bored. “Amy told me to come. This is not what I was expecting and I’ll be leaving soon.”
“That’s too bad. My roommate dragged me here, and I think I’m stuck for most of the night.”
She tilted her head with a teasing smile, “Your company might make it more bearable. Not bad on the eyes, either.”
He chuckled, stepping forward as the line moved. “So, besides stripping, what got you here?”
He folded his arms, leaning his back against the wall along the drink line.
Whitney grinned. “My engineering knowledge. I was a few credits short of graduating, so I decided to pay down some of the debt before trying again.”
“Hm.”
He nodded, his eyes scanning the crowd.
“What about you?”
“Just a standard electrician.”
Her gaze dropped to his arms, still crossed over his chest. “Where’d you get your tattoos done? Prison?”
She teased.
“Some of them.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
He looked across at her, his face unreadable. “I’m not supposed to talk about it.”
“Okay, now I know you’re messing with me.”
She smirked. “The whole ‘I’m not supposed to talk about it’ bit? What, if you tell me, you’ll have to kill me?”
“Okay, don’t believe me. No sweat off my back.”
Her curiosity flared. “What ones then?”
He sighed, unfolding his arms and exposing the word Invictus inked on his inner forearm, surrounded by other intricate designs. “I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.”
Her eyes stayed on his tattoos a beat longer than necessary before flicking back to his face. He was exactly her type. Unfortunately it was the kind who left her with a broken heart and sometimes an empty wallet. It irritated her how that only made him more attractive. “What’d you do?”
She asked, her voice low.
“It’s your turn.”
He nodded toward the counter.
She turned to order a drink, throwing him a playful look over her shoulder. “Guess I’d better start drinking.”
She winked and headed back to her table, a drink in each hand. “Did you find your guy?”
Whitney asked, sliding into her seat.
“No.”
Shianne sighed, eyes glued to her phone.
“You thought he was going to show up this time?”
“I don’t know.”
She turned off her screen and rested her chin on her palm.
“How long have you known him?”
“We were both born here.”
She glanced around the room before looking back at Whitney.
Whitney’s eyes widened. “Wait, people were born here?”
“Yes, I was number four.”
“What was he, number three?”
“He was actually the first.”
Whitney set down her empty cup. “Oh, does that make him heir to the island throne?”
“What?”
Shianne’s brow furrowed. “No, that’s not how it works.”
Whitney grinned and bumped her shoulder. “I’m giving you a hard time.”
Fade
Damn it. The last thing he needed was anyone on the island knowing he’d done time. He liked the idea of a clean slate and maybe she’d believe he was messing with her. The staff slid his drink over, and he chugged it in one go, setting the glass down with a thud. I’m out of here. This place feels like a damn sock hop. He thought. As he headed toward the exit, his eyes landed on the back of Whitney’s head. She was laughing with the blonde she’d been sitting with, completely at ease. He forced his gaze away and walked out.