3. Raegan
Chapter three
Raegan
There isn’t anywhere for me to go tonight. I left the last city and my temporary living arrangement behind. I need to find a place to stay at least until tomorrow and then figure out my next move from there.
All I know is that I can’t stay here. Not if Jackson and the others are here.
My chest aches as Jack flashes in my mind again and how much he’s grown from the sixteen-year-old I once knew. I’m worried about the darkness in his expression, but the smile he gave me, the genuine curve of his lips that pokes a dimple in his cheek, was everything like I remembered it.
I wish I could catch up with him and them like old times, but it’s a foolish dream.
I destroyed the bonds we shared. I don’t deserve to get to know who they are now. It would be best to keep my distance from them. But being so close and yet so far from them is a torture all on its own.
Once I’ve grabbed my backpack from the bushes, I take the long walk back to downtown, where the city is still alive and active, even in the early hours of the morning. People are dressed for the nightlife as they meander down the sidewalks, coming and going from bars, pubs, nightclubs, and whatever debauchery spots are open.
My lips curve into a smile as I take in the view. Vibrant neon signs cast a blue-purple glow on the streets and buildings, creating their own light enough that plain street lamps aren’t needed. Chatter and the rumble of engines are a steady background buzz that is comforting in its constant noise.
I can’t sleep or relax in silence.
It’s a beautiful city. One I would have loved to explore more if not for the discovery of Jackson.
My phone vibrates in my back pocket, and I pull it out. Something flies out with it and tumbles to the ground. I narrow my eyes at the small rectangle and bend down to retrieve it, twisting my wrist around to see the front side. There’s another single address on it just like the last one that led me to Jackson’s apartment.
His gift, no doubt.
The impulse to toss it twitches my hand, but curiosity grips me before I can follow through. What sort of gift would he give me? A trap? He had me at the apartment if that was what he wanted, so then why bother sending me elsewhere?
Sighing, I look back to my phone to find a warning that my monthly plan is almost expired.
Great.
I pocket the card and my phone, shifting the one arm of the backpack I’m wearing further up my shoulder. I keep walking until I find an electronics store to buy another month of data and minutes. I stop by a pizzeria that smells too good to pass up, and once I’ve finished my meal, I finally bring the card back out.
I search for the address on Maps, and it appears twenty blocks away and most definitely on the outskirts of the city again.
Seems fishy, but I can’t help the need to know what sort of gift Jackson would be leaving me after all this time.
Maybe I shouldn’t seem too eager by rushing over there anyway.
It’s just after one in the morning. Nothing more unexpected than putting it off to the next day, right?
“—a liability. She never should have existed in the first place. Just kill her and be done with it,” an unfamiliar voice echoes outside the door.
“We can’t throw away a gift this useful. I can get her to control it.” I recognize this voice, but I don’t care enough to place it.
I’m a murderer.
A monster.
My arms tighten around my knees. I bury my face deeper into them as another sob escapes past my lips.
The tears don’t come.
I’ve gone through them all, wasted them in the first few days I’ve been locked away in solitary. In the pitch black, concrete room that leaves me with only my thoughts as I replay the moment I killed Vera over and over again .
I’m trapped in a Hell loop of my own making.
“It’s a waste of time. Don’t bother anyone else with this experiment of yours. If it fails, it’s on you,” the first voice answers.
“Of course.”
Light spills unforgivingly into the room as the door opens, blinding me in its harsh brightness.
“Get up!” Boots stomp across the floor, and a hand grabs my upper arm roughly to yank me up. The voice curses viciously. “You’re as ripe as a dead body.”
I stiffen when the image of Vera’s lifeless gaze immediately fills my mind. My chest constricts until the air in the room seems thinner, and I grab onto the arm of the person trying to force me to stand instinctively.
“Don’t touch me!” he snaps, smacking my hands away and pulling again until my feet are under me. “You’re lucky I’m the one getting you out of here after what you’ve just cost us. You’ll never be able to do what she could, so you’d better find a way to make yourself useful before I do exactly what they want me to do with you.”
I stumble onto my feet.
Fingers dig into either side of my face and jerk it until I’m staring blankly at Gordon.
“Are you going to be a good little pet for me, or should I toss you away now?”
My cracked lips press together in preparation to speak. “Pet?” I croak.
He scowls at me. “Yes. You’ll do exactly as I say without question.” He leads me from the room and my feet follow on autopilot while my eyes are still adjusting to the light of the hallway. “Starting with a shower and some food so we can begin your training.”
By the time I’m able to open my eyes, I don’t recognize where we are. We’re passing by a long window that looks into another large room filled with beds.
And people.
“What’s that? Where are we?”
Gordon doesn’t look at me or the room when he answers. “The lab where failures go to donate their gifts until they die. You’ll be lucky to go there if you fail me. If they’re successful in extracting your gift, they’ll keep you alive longer. But”—his grip on my arm tightens hard enough that I cry out in pain—“don’t fail me, pet.”
He brings me to a training gym and opens the storage room where a medical bed on wheels sits in the corner with a floor lamp and clothing rack beside it. “This is your room now. You’ll shower in the locker room. Be ready every morning. You’re not to leave this gym without me.” He releases my arm and starts to leave.
“But—why?” Why am I here? Why can’t I leave? What’s happening?
Gordon tsks and shakes his head. “You really think we’re going to let you get close to anyone else after you killed someone so easily?”
“I didn’t mean to—”
“Don’t. Lie!” His hand whips across my face, and my body crashes into the storage door before dropping to the ground. He storms over to me and grips my hair in a punishing hold. “Vera was the key to us taking the next step and you ruined that.”
My face contorts with pain, but even when tears are beckoned to my eyes, nothing comes. “She was going to kill Dane. I just wanted to save him. I didn’t want to hurt her. Please…”
“You’re a fool. You think that boy is going to thank you for killing his sister? You think he’s going to believe anything you say after he learns that you’re the one who did it?”
Fear chokes me at the thought of Dane or the others finding out about this. Of what I’ve done. Would they believe me? Maybe. If I had time to explain everything. But then…how can I tell Dane that Vera was helping GE? That she wasn’t the sister he thought he knew? She wasn’t the girl who showed up on the island.
I can’t.
I squeeze my eyes shut as the realization sinks in. I can’t let them know what Vera had become. How twisted and apathetic she was when she wasn’t with them.
I’ll never tell them. They can keep their good memories of Vera while I hold on to the real her as penance for what I did.
As long as Gordon doesn’t tell them first.
My eyes snap open with a new resolve. “Don’t.”
“Excuse me?”
“Please,” I amend. “Don’t tell them.”
His smirk is cold and malevolent. “Them? Oh, right. The others who hang around him. Should we go tell them together?”
I try shaking my head, but his grip is too strong for it to move much. But it’s enough. He laughs and tosses me back. “Then be a good pet and go take a shower. I’ll be back with food and you’d better be finished before then.” His dull brown eyes leer down my body with a smirk pulling at his lips. “You’d hate to find out what happens if I’m back first.”
Revulsion coils in the pit of my stomach, and I curl in on myself as if to protect myself from him.
His smirk intensifies at my reaction. He leans in and drags his thumb down my lips. “Give it time, pet. You and I are going to have a lot of it.”
My body drops a few inches, and for a second, I feel like I’m falling. I grab at whatever’s closest while my stomach’s busy getting lodged in my throat and I’m choked by painful memories resurfacing in my dreams again.
Then I smell the sweet, delectable aroma of hot coffee.
My panic dissipates instantly because…coffee.
I can’t be falling from the sky if that’s what I’m smelling.
I try to peel my eyelids back, but they’re heavy and thick.
“I know I said you could sleep here last night, but I’m not sure I was prepared for how long you sleep,” a deep voice drawls above me.
I find the strength to snap my eyes open and then hiss at the brightness of the room. I move back on instinct, realizing I’m lying in a bed, and then stare blearily at the man sitting on the edge with a coffee mug in his hand and a look of amusement in his expression. He’s wearing gray slacks, a white button up long-sleeve shirt, and a tie. His dirty blonde hair is mussed back from his face.
He extends the coffee toward me, keeping his distance but offering this olive branch between us. As I’m reaching for it, the sheets slide further off of me and expose my naked torso.
Ah. Of course, I did.
It all comes rushing back now. Changing into my one skimpy dress in the pizzeria bathroom and then hitting up the nearest nightclub. Then finding a guy who looked interested and getting him to buy me drinks and bring me home with him so I didn’t have to waste my money on a dirty motel or expensive hotel for the night.
I must have slept with him.
Good times.
I don’t bother covering myself up once the sheet falls. He’s obviously seen it all before, and I reach for what’s important right now. That coffee.
The man’s gaze travels down my exposed flesh, but there’s nothing leering or rude about it. He doesn’t give any indication if he likes or dislikes what he sees either, which might set others off, but I’m an absolute realist. This was just a one-night stand that got me free drinks and a room for the night, and I’m satisfied with the turnout of all that.
I take the mug and try to remember what he’d said when I first woke up. “What time is it?”
He smiles and checks his watch. I didn’t realize people still wore those anymore with cell phones being in everyone’s pockets, but nope, he’s wearing a shiny-looking black watch with fancy dials and everything. “Three in the afternoon.”
Oops.
I bring the mug to my lips and let the coffee burn my tongue and throat on the way down. My eyes close of their own accord, and I groan. It’s fucking wonderful . When I open my eyes again, he’s watching me patiently, like he has all the time in the world for some weirdo to crash his home and sleep in until mid-afternoon, drinking his cup of coffee.
Who is this guy?
“Sorry about that. Your bed must be comfortable.”
“You must have been that tired,” he counters.
I shrug one shoulder and take another deep gulp. “Maybe. Do you always bring coffee to girls who sleep over and stay past the respectful time?”
He chuckles. “Certainly not.”
Hm. Red flag.
My brow arches in question.
“You seemed to need it,” he answers as if that’s a normal reaction to an absolute stranger who openly admitted to him she was using him for the night. “I can help you if you want to share what brought you to a nightclub to look for a place to sleep at one in the morning.”
I hum after drinking more coffee. “I don’t share. I also don’t do relationships if that’s where this is going. I had a good night, I appreciate the bed and the coffee, but once I’ve finished this cup, you’ll never see me again.”
“Fair enough.” He stands and tugs at the cuffs of his sleeves on either arm. “I’m not looking to pry, but if you do need a friend, or a friendly acquaintance, in your corner, let me know. I have resources that I built around me for something like this, so I’m more than happy to offer them.”
I bite my tongue at the something like this comment. What situation does he think I’m in? Some homeless girl who can’t get a job and was disowned by her family? I mean, it’s not totally off, but it’s missing the key points that make having me around more dangerous for him than for me.
People die from being around me because of GE’s hunt to get me back. Death by bad luck, I guess, because they don’t care about unnecessary casualties to get what they want.
“Resources?” I question instead.
He nods and gestures to the room. “Other apartments and places to stay. A job. Assistance with…finding answers.”
Well, that was cryptic. “Am I supposed to know what that last one means?”
He smirks. “You can’t have all the secrets.” His hands settle into his pockets. “You know where to find me now, so if you decide to take me up on any of those, just knock. You can also find me in the nightclub downstairs most nights.”
The nightclub is downstairs? Well, that was convenient. I finish the last swig of coffee and set it down on the nightstand on the far side of the bed from him. When I look back up, he has my backpack and the dress from last night on the bed for me. “You work there?” I take the dress and tug it over my head, then stand on the other side and pull it down over my bare backside as far as it goes.
“I own it.”
I snap back up to look at him. Resources, huh? I purse my lips in thought and then shake my head. I don’t trust anyone. Least of all, someone I met at a nightclub. “Thanks, but I’ll be out of this city before the end of tonight anyway.”
“What’s your name? Will you give me that at least?”
I hunt for my boots, which are on his side of the room, and flop back on the bed to yank them on. “What’s yours?” I counter back. This guy is a stranger and should stay that way. The less he knows about me, the better.
“Elias.”
I wait for a last name, but he leaves it at that and then raises his brow for me to reciprocate. I raise mine back with a smirk. I never said I’d offer him mine; so foolish of him for thinking so. “You got a bathroom, Elias?”
His pale blue eyes flash like he thinks he has me. “I do. In exchange for your name.”
I grab my backpack and shrug. “Fine. I’ll piss in the alley.”
He makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. “Fuck, don’t do that. It’s that door over there.” He points to one of the many doors in this room. “Feel free to use the shower if you’d like. I have to be out of here in an hour, so that’s how long you have before I’ll escort you out. Use whatever products you want.” He leaves me to it without pressing for my name, and I wonder what I said that freaked him out so much.