Defective (The Institute Series Book 3) (5 page)

The guy startles awake, confused for a moment before he remembers where he is. He sits up and tilts his head from side to side, cracking his neck. He runs his hand over his hair and down his neck as he yawns, and I mentally beg him not to do that. Yet another reminder of Chad. I know I should stop comparing, but it’s too difficult not to with this guy.

He stands and comes over to the reception desk where I’m sitting. Looking up at him, I notice his eyes for the first time, like really notice them. They’re sky blue, and incredibly intense. I don’t know why this puts an involuntary smile on my face, but it does. Maybe because it
doesn’t
remind me of
him
.

“You’re still here,” he says, his lips turning up slightly in the corner.

“Yep, sure am. I’m about to go home though,” I say enthusiastically, looking at the time. I can’t wait to get to bed.

“Can I buy you breakfast?” he asks.

This throws me. Did he really just ask me out when his girlfriend is asleep in the other room, recovering from a beating? What kind of person does that?

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I say bashfully.

“No? You got a boyfriend?” he asks.

“No.”
Hmm, Paxton.
“Not really.”

“‘Not really’ as in there’s no one, but you want me to think there is, so I don’t ask you out? Or ‘not really’ as in you do, but you’re thinking of going out with me anyway?” he says with charming arrogance. It actually makes my lip quiver, contemplating whether to smile at that or not.

“I can’t go out with you,” I say trying to be confident, and totally failing.

“Because? Oh, let me guess! Because… you’re joining a nunnery?”

I shake my head with a smile.

“Because… you have six months left to live?”

I shake my head, my smile falling from my face slightly.

“Because you have six kids to five different baby daddies, and you aren’t looking for a new one?”

I let out a laugh. “No. But there are many reasons why I’m not going out with you, the main one being your girlfriend lying in the next room.”

“Girlfriend?” he asks. “You think she’s my girlfriend? She’s my neighbour! I don’t even know her all that well. I found her on the stoop of our apartment block and brought her here. I thought you would’ve gathered that I didn’t know her when I didn’t know any of her information.” He looks at me with sudden realisation, his shoulders slumping forward. “You just assumed I didn’t care to know my girlfriend’s last name?”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed. I just figured because you brought her here, and stayed all night.” I try to hide my embarrassment.

“Well now that’s out of the way, breakfast?” he asks, smoothly.

“Sorry. Still no.”

He steps back from the desk, hand to his chest and shaking his head. “You’re breaking this poor guy’s heart.”

I reluctantly smile. “I’m sure you’ll get over it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going home to go to bed.”

“Whoa, hey, that’s moving a little too fast for me, but if you insist…”

“Your neighbour should be able to be released after she wakes up. It’d be great for her if you could take her home,” I say, switching back to professional mode, although the smile still lingers.

“I plan to,” he says seriously. “And thanks for taking care of her.”

“You’re welcome.”

His voice follows after me as I grab my bag and head for the exit. “Oh, Allira?” I turn to face him. “My name’s Jayce. It was nice meeting you.”

I don’t reply, I just walk out. He knows my name? I don’t wear a name tag, how did he know my name? Did he ask someone about me? My cheeks flush as a grin finds my face. As I start walking towards my apartment, I kick myself for not saying what I should have said, what I wanted to say.

It was nice meeting you too, Jayce.

Chapter Five

Making my way down the street, I prepare myself for a Sunday night shift. I’m covering Ebb’s usual shift so she can do more prac-work at the hospital.

It’s been a week since I met the guy with the neighbour, and for the last week I’ve found myself wanting him to walk back through the clinic doors. Then I think to myself that that might mean I’m wishing for his neighbour to be beaten again, and that seems extreme. I tell myself it’s because he reminds me of Chad, that’s why I want to see him. But if that was true, why do I keep thinking about his insane blue eyes, and the confident smirk he flashed when he asked me out? Neither of those are traits of Chad’s.

The reception desk is dead quiet when I arrive. Stashing my bag under the desk, I hear Aunt Kenna yell from the treatment room, “Lia, can you come out here for a minute?” Sunday is usually her day off – what is she doing here?

I wander into the back room and almost trip over myself when I see
him
standing there with Aunt Kenna. Wearing jeans and a yellow T-shirt, his biceps bulge as he crosses his arms casually.

Be careful what you wish for.

He looks at me, and I can’t bring myself to keep his gaze. I tuck my hair behind my ear nervously, watching my feet as they start walking in their direction.

“What are you doing here?” I direct at Aunt Kenna. “I thought it was your day off?”

“The hospital couldn’t spare a relief doctor tonight, and Vic is off, so I’m it,” she replies.

Glancing over at Jayce, our eyes lock for a brief second, before I avert my gaze back to Aunt Kenna. “You needed me?”

“Yes. Lia, this is Jayce. You’ll be working with him tonight, showing him the ropes.”

“The ropes?” I ask, looking back and forth between Aunt Kenna and him so fast it looks like I’m watching a tennis match.

“He’s our new volunteer, so I need you to teach him what you do here. He’ll be doing administrative stuff mainly, but I’ll get you to show him all aspects of the clinic so he knows how we operate. Sound good? Great. I’ll check in with you guys later. I’ll be in my office if you need me.”

Aunt Kenna walks off without giving me a chance to respond, and just like that, I’m left alone with the first guy to give me butterflies in a long time.

He wasn’t meant to come back. Last Friday night was good, it gave me hope that maybe one day I could be open to dating again. Part of me wanted to say yes to his offer for breakfast last week, but I don’t need this right now – I don’t need him… here.

Keeping my eyes on the floor, I have to force myself to look up and make eye contact with him. He has his hands in his pockets and is looking right at me.

“Hey, I just want to say that I didn’t know,” he says.

“Didn’t know what?”

“I didn’t know who you were. I never would’ve asked you out if I knew you were Paxton James’ girlfriend.”

“So you’re not just volunteering to ask me out again?” I ask in a flirty manner, startling myself.
Where the hell did that come from
?

“No hidden agenda here,” he says, holding up his hands before putting them back in his pockets. “I just thought that with everything you said about being understaffed and needing volunteers that I should do something productive with my spare time. I think what you guys are doing here is incredible.” He must see me instinctively look at his right arm. I hate to do it, but I have to know. “I’m not Defective. I just want to help.” He smiles. “And I promise I won’t ask you out again.”

“I guess we better get started then,” I say walking off. I get to the hallway before I realise he isn’t behind me. “You’re meant to be following me,” I order. He hurries to catch up.

I take him to our laundry room to find him some scrubs to change into, but something nags at me in the back of my mind.

“How did you know about Paxton?” I ask him.

“Sorry, what?”

“Paxton. How did you—”

“Oh. Newspaper. I thought you looked familiar. It wasn’t until I read the paper at home a few days ago that I realised where from.”

“Oh,” is all I can seem to reply. “I was in the paper again?” I ask rhetorically, and more to myself than to Jayce.

“It was an older issue. I live with my sister. She… uh, has a lot of newspapers. For her job.”

“What is she, a journalist or something?”

He nods, and I freeze. A journalist? Is that why he’s really here?

“How long have you two been together?” he asks, adding to my suspicion. Is he asking for himself or for his sister?

There’s a part of me that wants to tell him the truth – that Paxton and I aren’t together – but I know I shouldn’t. Especially now I know he lives with a journalist. So I lie.

“About six months, but I’ve known him for two years. I was there when he took over the Institute.” I have to choose my words carefully.

The general public doesn’t know what really happened at the Institute when Paxton took over. All they know is Brookfield was a corrupt man, and Paxton was the courageous hero who overthrew him and exposed him for what he truly was.

No one knows about the slaughter of eight innocent people, the hostile moves we took to secure the Institute for ourselves. No one knows that I played a big part in the whole thing, apart from the Defective population of course. Paxton, Drew and I are well known in the Defective community for what we did. Paxton’s political team have been vigilant in keeping that hidden from non-Defectives.

Most are grateful for what the three of us achieved. Some – like those who decided to stay with the Resistance and continue to live out there – think we’ve endangered our kind even more by setting us free. Some days, especially after losing a patient, I tend to agree with them.

“What ever happened to that Brookfield guy anyway?” Jayce asks.

I get a chill at the sound of his name. “Dunno. They never found him,” I reply as calmly as I can manage.

Handing Jayce some scrubs, I show him where he can get dressed. When he comes back out, I get started showing him around the clinic, explaining what will be expected of him.

I don’t know if it’s because Brookfield’s name was mentioned, or if I’m just on edge because Jayce is here, but that uneasy feeling creeps over me once again. My skin tingles with goose-bumps, causing me to shiver. As we make our way past the front windows of the clinic, my heart stops. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a figure standing just on the other side of the glass. I can’t make out any features in the dark, and by the time I turn to face them, they’re no longer there.
Was it just my imagination?

“Did you see that?” I ask Jayce.

“See what?”

I shake my head. “Never mind.”

Jayce spends the night shadowing me. As much as I’m happy that we’ll have more help around here – free help, too – I hate that it has to be Jayce. Every time he brushes past me, I find myself holding my breath for no reason. And when our fingers accidently touched earlier when I was handing him something, I actually flinched, and not in a bad way, although I’m sure he probably thought it was. I haven’t been this self-conscious since… well, actually, I don’t think I’ve ever been this self-conscious.

It’s nearing the end of our shift, and the thought of going home, getting into bed, and wrapping myself up in my blanket like I’m in a cocoon, brings a smile to my face. Then I remember that it’s the last Monday of the month. It’s Institute day. I let out a sigh at the realisation.

I’m still going to go home for at least a nap before heading out west for my monthly ‘counselling’ session. It’ll make me late, but they’re not going to send out a search party if I’m an hour or two over-due.

Just as I make my way out of the clinic, I see Ebb’s car and remember that she’s going today as well and we’d arranged to go together. She usually goes on Thursdays, but she called me last night at the clinic to say she has to be at the hospital on Thursday, so she’s coming with me today. I’d already forgotten.

“Hey,” I say, climbing into the passenger seat of her car. I throw my head back on my seat and close my eyes.

There’s a tap on the window, and I open my eyes to see Jayce outside the car. Putting the window down, I give him a forced and tired smile.

“Hey. I just wanted to thank you for showing me around last night.”

“No problem. This is Ebb, by the way – she works at the clinic, too, so you’ll be working with her a lot as well,” I introduce them.

“Nice to meet you,” he says in a friendly, casual tone. “I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he adds before walking off.

“Yes you will,” Ebb says seductively once he’s out of ear shot.
Uh oh.
“Long night?” she asks me. I notice a similar look of weariness in her eyes that I must have in mine from the all-nighter we pulled last night – hers at the hospital, mine at the clinic.

“The usual.”

“How about you nap on the way there, and then you can drive home, and I’ll nap on the way back. After you tell me everything you know about the new guy.”

“I’ll tell you about him later. I’m too tired right now.” I slump back into my seat, preparing for sleep which I know will come easily.

It seems like we get to the Institute in record time, probably because I slept most of the way.

As we pull into the parking lot, I get a crippling shiver down my back – the one I get every time I come back here.

We enter the building unescorted. There are no guards, no locked doors, and no security codes to get in and out. We make our way to a freshly renovated room that now operates as a reception area.

We’re greeted by two staff who wear the old Institute uniforms, although the stripes on their shoulders no longer hold significance to a ranking system.

“Name?” the one in front of me asks without even bothering to look up. Ebb starts the same process with the second lady.

“Allira Daniels.”

She looks up at me, startled. “Of course, Miss Daniels. Sorry.”

Everyone knows me here, and I kind of hate it. She inputs it into her computer, and an all too familiar two-tone warning alarm springs from her speakers.

“Ah. The director has requested a meeting with you,” she says.

“Of course he has.” I mutter.

Ebb looks over to me. “He just misses you, you know.”

I ignore her and begin walking in the direction of the offices.

Making my way down the hallway, I suck in a breath and count to three before opening the door to his office. I need to prepare myself mentally to come face-to-face with the person who has taken on so many different roles in my life.

He started out as the boy I saved from a car crash, but he quickly became my boyfriend. Then he revealed himself as an agent of the Institute, sent to me with one purpose – to gather enough intel to arrest me. After my arrest and the months of bickering between us that followed, he was assigned as my partner when I reluctantly became an Institute agent myself. During our partnership we were able to at least be civil, sometimes even nice to one another. He slowly moved on to be a confidant of mine, then he became the person who saved my life. He shot dead the woman who killed Chad and attempted to kill me. He became my saviour.

We’ve had our ups and downs. We’ve both lied to each other, we’ve both sabotaged one another in different ways, and yet we’ve both saved each other too. Through it all, we’ve managed to find neutral ground, a balance of what we shared. We’ve managed to find friendship.

“Mr. Director,” I tease in a posh accent while curtseying. “I believe you sent for me,” I say, keeping up with the charade.

Drew puts the paperwork he was reading down on his desk, and I’m in his arms within what feels like impossible time. He picks me up and spins me, making me dizzy and feeling silly.

“Put me down,” I scold, hitting him in the shoulder.

“Sorry. Had to,” he replies, putting my feet back on the floor. “It’s been too long. You do know you don’t
only
have to come when it’s mandatory, right?”

“Excuse me, but I’m pretty sure the last time I was here, it was
you
who was too busy to see
me
.”

“That’s true. Sorry about that. Some days it’s just chaos here.” He gestures for me to take a seat as he walks around his desk and sits back in his big boss chair. I can’t help giggling at the image. It gets me every time.

Drew took over the Institute when Paxton announced his run for presidency. It’s a little surprising to see him doing so well. I guess there’s always going to be that tiny part of me that doesn’t trust him. It kind of sucks because he’s done nothing but prove himself time and time again. Maybe when someone hurts you that badly, you can never rebuild full trust again.

Not that I don’t trust him at all. I’d definitely trust him with my life, but I’d never be able to trust him with my heart. Not again.

“So, how have you been?” he asks in a professional manner.

“Oh, is this my counselling session?” I ask with feigned excitement.

“Just getting formalities out of the way.”