Defective (The Institute Series Book 3) (7 page)

“I could’ve, but you understand that you can’t tell your sister about it, right? I really shouldn’t have told you… I don’t actually know why I told you.”

“I promise I won’t say anything to Jenna. And seeing as I now know why you won’t go out with me, how about we go get a drink at the bar up here – just as friends,” he offers. “It’s still early, and after my shift last night and sleeping most of the day, I’m not even tired.”

I know I should say no. I need to say no. I’m going to say no.

“Sure.”
Damn it.

We walk to the nearby bar, order some drinks, and go to a booth in the back where the music isn’t so loud.

“So I think I remember you telling me you live with your sister?” I ask.

“Yeah. I’m a uni student, so I don’t exactly have a lot of money. She’s only been in her job a few years, so she’s just starting to make decent money now. We didn’t have much of a choice about living together. It was either be roommates or live at home with Mum and Dad.”

“You don’t get along with your parents?”

“No, I do. They’re really great, but… living with them drove me crazy.”

“I understand what that’s like. I was living with my parents before moving in with Paxton. It was my main reason for accepting Paxton’s offer to be his crazy ‘only for show’ girlfriend.”

“Well just so you know, I’ll be counting down to Election Day when you no longer have to be his girlfriend, and I’ll be on your door step asking you out again.”

I turn away to allow myself to blush in private. I’m met with an arrogant smirk when I face him again.

“Just don’t get your hopes up. I haven’t dated anyone in eighteen months, and I don’t plan to anytime soon – even after the election.”

“I don’t suppose you want to tell me why that is?”

I don’t, but for some reason I find myself saying the words anyway. “Because of my ex… Hmm, I don’t know if I can even call him that. If he were still alive, I’m sure we’d still be together. Ex seems to imply a break up. We didn’t break up, he didn’t choose to leave me.”

“Yup. That would explain it,” he says in realisation. “What happened to him?”

“Ah, now
that
I’m not so comfortable talking about.” Mainly because I can’t tell him the truth. I could tell him Chad was shot, I could tell him I was there, but I couldn’t tell him who did it or under what circumstances.

“No worries, I understand. It sucks you had to go through that – especially so young. Or was he older, like Paxton?”

“Paxton’s only thirty. That’s not
old!
Certainly not old enough to accept death anyway.”

“Sorry. I didn’t realise he was that young. And that’s true about the death thing.” He sighs. “I guess that was just my poor way of bringing up the fact that Paxton’s too old for you anyway.” There’s that smirk again.

“You sound just like Ebb. Paxton may seem old, but it’s only because he’s had to take care of his daughter, Nuka, since his ex-wife abandoned them. And now that he’s in politics, he’s had to grow up really fast. Thirty is not old, no matter what you or Ebb say.”

Jayce scoffs. “It’s funny that Ebb thinks thirty’s old.”

“Why?”

“Because Jamie’s twenty-nine.” He laughs.

“Whoa. He doesn’t look it!”

“Yeah, he doesn’t act it either.”

“How old are you and Jenna?”

“Twenty-one. Did I forget to mention we’re twins?”

“Yeah, you did.”

“Oh. Well Mum and Dad had pretty much given up on having any more kids after Jamie. They tried for years – and they like to bring it up and tell us all about it which makes us all cringe,” he says, screwing up his face. “They turned to IVF, and they had one last chance. The result being Jenna and me.”

“And you’re studying Psychology, right? That’s what you said the other day at the clinic?” I fake struggling to remember what he’s studying.

“Full of questions tonight, aren’t you?”

“It feels good to talk about something other than me, the clinic, or Paxton for once.” Not to mention how easy the conversation flows between us. He definitely has the charisma psychologists need. He makes me want to open up to him. It’s scary how much I want to… or maybe that’s the alcohol talking.

“I’ve always been fascinated by people’s actions. The difference between instinctual actions and learned behaviours. I figure why not make a career out of something I’m interested in.”

“That does sound interesting. More interesting than medicine, anyway.”

“You don’t like medicine? Why do you do it?”

“Why do you think? Aunt Kenna needed someone, so I stepped up. Plus I want to give something back to the Defective community. I sometimes feel responsible for what it’s like now. All the violence, the killings… it’s all my fault.”
Stop talking!
I yell at myself.
Damn my loose lips.

Maybe I shouldn’t drink any more. Just because I want to open up to Jayce, doesn’t mean it’s a good idea. If I’m not careful, I’m going to say something I shouldn’t. And as much as he says he won’t tell his sister anything, I can’t risk that. I have no reason to trust this guy.
You have no reason not to trust him.
I grunt and tell my inner voice to shut up.

“How is it your fault? I don’t understand.”

I shake my head and smile. “Don’t mind me, I’m talking gibberish. I think I’ve had too much to drink,” I try to play it off. It’s obvious he doesn’t buy it, but he doesn’t push the issue either.

“So why do you continue to do it – work at the clinic? I know plenty of students at university who are studying nursing who’d gladly take over your spot. Have you guys advertised for staff or volunteers around campus?”

I shake my head. “To be honest, we never imagined getting non-Defective volunteers in. We didn’t think anyone would want to do it.”

“You’ll be surprised. Not all of us normal folk are scared of you.” He says it lightly, but it just cuts that much deeper that it’s the truth. A lot of people out there are afraid of us. “And you don’t owe anyone anything. Staying in a job that you don’t even like just because you feel guilty over something that couldn’t possibly be your fault is no way to live.”

If only he knew the truth. “I know,” I say looking down at my drink. “Maybe you’re right.”

***

After a few more drinks, he walks me to my door like the gentleman that he is. He doesn’t try to ram his tongue down my throat, he doesn’t even hug me goodbye. He stands at the entrance to the building, his hands in his pockets, just waiting until I’m safely inside.

“I’ll see you at work on Friday,” he says before leaving.

Walking through the lobby of my building, I feel light and almost – dare I say it – happy. I’m just about to get to the elevator when one of the security guys behind the security desk yells after me.

“Miss Daniels! I have something for you,” he says.

Confused, I walk over to him, and he hands me a yellow envelope. There’s no address, just my name.

“Where did it come from?” I ask.

“It was dropped off via courier about an hour ago,” he replies.

I look at the clock above his desk noting that it’s 1:06am “Midnight is a bit late for a delivery, isn’t it?”

The security man just shrugs. “You’ll be surprised at what gets delivered here at all sorts of hours.” His voice drips with innuendo, and I don’t think I want to know any more.

Taking it in my hands, I start heading upstairs. I stare at the envelope, wondering what it could be.

When the elevator reaches my apartment, I open the envelope, pulling out a photograph and a typed note.

The photograph is of Jayce and me walking the street tonight on our way to the bar. Smiling and looking at each other, the moment looks intimate even though we aren’t even touching. My blood freezes when I read the note.

Looks like Paxton isn’t the only one with secrets.

Chapter Seven

I drop the papers to the floor. I can’t breathe. What does this mean? Who would do something like this? What am I meant to do with this?

“Pax—” I almost call out to Paxton, not caring that it’s the middle of the night, but then I realise he’s still away. He won’t be back until tomorrow.

Still standing in the entryway, my heart hammers fast in my chest, my breathing quick and shallow. I bend down and pick the papers off the floor, taking them and the envelope into my room.

Sitting down on the edge of my bed, I rack my brain trying to figure out who could’ve sent me this. What could it mean? I run my hand over the photo of Jayce and me, the reality shocking me that this was literally only taken a few hours ago, and now here it is, in printed form, dropped off at my doorstep.

My first thought is that it must be Brookfield, but I shake my head at the thought. If Brookfield was alive, and he came back, he’d just kill me. He’d shoot me on the street, not take a photo of me. As much as Brookfield was evil, he wasn’t about playing games. If he wanted something, he took measured steps to get it as quickly as he could. He didn’t play with his prey first. And why come back now? What’s changed?

Which leaves the only other thing I can think of – a journalist. What do they want?

The note
,
I think to myself. I grab it off my bed and look at it again.

‘Looks like Paxton isn’t the only one with secrets.’
Isn’t the only one. Are they implying that I have secrets, too? That Paxton and I are hiding the fact our relationship isn’t real? Are they saying that Paxton is keeping something from me, just like I’m hiding Jayce from him? Or is it saying that Jayce has secrets? He’s in the photo, too – it’s not just me.

I promised Paxton I wouldn’t date, and I’m not. But I did have every intention of keeping Paxton in the dark about Jayce. Not that that will be an option now. I know it’ll just make him angry and jump to the wrong conclusions.

I rub my neck where it’s all tense from worry. Flopping backwards on the bed, I wiggle my way up to my pillow. Whether it’s the booze, the strange envelope, or the fact that I’m so tired and exhausted, all I want to do is switch off.

Sleep isn’t accepting my open invitation. My mind is in that middle area – not yet asleep, but not quite awake either. I’m conscious of my surroundings, but I’m also confused when I hear a baby cry at the foot of my bed, and look up to see a talking piece of pizza in my room. Clearly, I’m dreaming, but I’m oddly aware that I’m not really there.
This is why I shouldn’t drink.

I wake at 9:00AM, still in my clothes from the night before, still with the mysterious envelope on the bed next to me.

My plan was to spend the day in bed, but I know I won’t be able to get any actual rest. I make my way into the kitchen to cook a good hearty breakfast to squash the queasy feeling left over from last night’s drinks.

There’s a note on the kitchen counter.

Allira,

Mr. James called. He’s staying away a few more days. He’s asked me to bring Nuka out to him. We will be back on Sunday morning.

Linds.

Crap! Now what am I going to do? I don’t have anyone to talk to about this envelope and what it means. Tate and Shilah are away with Paxton. Ebb is so not the person to take this to – she’s almost as anti-Paxton as the Collective for Normal’s Advocacy Group. I
could
take it to Drew, he’d know how to handle something like this. But going back to the Institute when I was only there a few days ago? My hatred for that place is just as strong as it ever was, even if it is different now. Too much happened there. I’m not going back there unless I truly have to. Talking to my mother about it is a possibility, but I shut that idea down as quickly as it comes. I can’t confide in Jayce either – I don’t want to bring him into this.

I have no one.

***

Sitting at the kitchen bench, my right leg bouncing rapidly, I keep going to chew my nails, only to force myself to stop. I stayed inside the apartment all day yesterday, not daring to venture out, not even daring to stand by a window in case someone was watching. The thought of going to work tonight is churning my stomach. I have no idea what to do.

I go over my theory again.
A journalist sent the photo. They’re trying to get me to open up. They’ll be approaching me soon. There’s not much I can do about it now.
This is what I’ve been repeatedly telling myself for the last twenty-four hours, hoping I’ll finally convince myself that my words are true.

Arriving at the clinic for my usual Friday night shift, I find Ebb puttering around, preparing to end her day shift.

“You didn’t answer when I called yesterday,” she says.

“I know. Sorry. I was in a Chad mood, and I know you hate it when I’m in one of those,” I lie. ‘Chad mood’ is what Ebb calls it when I’m wallowing in grief. As bad as it makes me, I’m finding that excuse works better than PMS when I want to get out of things.
Yup, I’m probably going to Hell.

“You probably didn’t want to hear what I had to say then,” she says.

“Oh? What’s that?”

“That Jamie is… I don’t know what he is. He’s like the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”

“Whoa,” I say. Coming from Ebb, that’s massive. “But you’ve spent one night with him. How do you know…” Her face flushes as she looks down at her feet. “You spent yesterday with him, too, didn’t you?”

She nods slowly. “I don’t think you understand. I don’t want to be away from him. He—”

“No, no. I do. I understand completely,” I say smiling.

I wonder how long it’ll take before Ebb gets sick of Jamie. It always happens. Fall fast and hard, get bored, and break up a month or so later.

“So what happened with you and Jayce when he walked you home?” she asks with hope in her eyes.

“Nothing,” I snap, thinking of the photo.

For a brief moment, I get the crazy notion that she sent the envelope. But no, she was out with us and it would’ve been impossible for her to leave the restaurant, take the photo, print it plus the note, and have it delivered to my apartment. More importantly, she’s Ebb – she’s my oldest friend. I’m clearly too strung out over this – now I’m thinking like a crazy woman.

“Nothing?” she asks, raising her eyebrows.

“We went for a few more drinks, but that’s it. We’re friends.”

“I know you want more,” Ebb says. “I realised it the minute I asked him out.”

“And you went out with him anyway?”

She rolls her eyes. “After dragging you out with us. It wasn’t my original plan to fall for Jamie, but it definitely was my plan to leave you and Jayce alone,” she says with a conspiratorial smile.

Before I get the chance to yell at her
and
mock her for saying she’s fallen for Jamie after two days, the doors to the clinic open, and Jayce and Jamie walk in.

Damn, Jayce looks good in scrubs.
No! Stop it!

Ebb’s around the counter and in Jamie’s arms within seconds, her legs wrapping around his waist, their mouths coming together for a deep, passionate kiss.

Jayce walks around the back of the reception desk and puts his backpack down underneath it. “Well it looks like their date went well,” he says.

“Maybe you picked the wrong girl after all,” I joke.

“I picked the right girl, I’m just waiting for her to pick me,” he whispers in my ear as he brushes past me. It puts a smile on my face.

Aunt Kenna’s next to come through the doors, “Oh, please Ebbodine, this is a sterile environment!”

We all laugh as Ebb peels herself away from Jamie.

“Go get your things and we’ll get going,” Jamie says, slapping her on the butt as she walks back to the desk to grab her bag.

“I did not need to see that,” Jayce says.

“It’s Ebbodine. You’ll have to get used to stuff like that,” I tease as she walks by me.

“Ha. Ha. I’ll see you guys on the weekend,” Ebb says, leaving with Jamie.

“Ready for another fun-filled night at the clinic?” Aunt Kenna says, overly excited.

“Why are you so chipper tonight?” I ask.

“Did you see the paper this morning?”

“No?” My heart starts racing.
Am I in the paper again? Has Paxton and my relationship been exposed? Is it the photo of Jayce and me?

Aunt Kenna grabs the paper out of her bag, handing it to me. The headline reads:

‘Clinic for the Defective in Need of Funds.’

Quickly skimming the article, it advertises the concept of the clinic, praises Aunt Kenna for her innovation, and then it mentions our struggle to survive on funding from the Institute alone, making a public appeal for donations and volunteers.

“How… who…”

Aunt Kenna directs her gaze behind me to Jayce. I turn to see him looking a little sheepish and nervous. “I may have spoken to my sister about this place,” he says, running his hand over the back of his neck nervously.

Reading the article again, I find the byline. ‘By Jenna Harrison.’

I throw my arms around Jayce without even thinking. “Thank you,” I whisper in his ear. His hands wrap around my back and I realise I’m probably holding on for just that little too long. He holds me tighter when I try to pull away.

“I would’ve done it sooner if I knew I’d get this kind of reaction out of you,” he whispers before letting me go. I feel the fresh blush on my cheeks but I don’t even try to hide it.

“Oh good,” Aunt Kenna interrupts, making me break eye contact with Jayce. “I was worried I was going to have to give you two the sterile environment talk, too. Jayce, thank you so much. We’ve been struggling and… just… well, thank you,” she finishes, getting a bit teary.

“It was nothing. Really. You two deserve to have this place work out,” he replies. “Word just needs to spread around about it. I didn’t even know it existed until two weeks ago.”

“Well thanks to you, we’re already on our way to doing that. We’ve already had donations coming in.” I can’t remember seeing Aunt Kenna this excited, not since the clinic’s been open anyway. “Now you two, get to work. I suspect we’re going to be a lot busier now.”

***

While Jayce is out back sterilising some equipment, I have a moment to myself. I don’t know what possessed me to bring it, but I reach into my bag and pull out the envelope, making my way into the walk-in supply closet to be alone. I’ve already spent the last twenty-four hours looking at this, but I keep thinking that I’m missing something, and my mind keeps going back to it every chance it gets.

I’m concentrating so hard on the photo that I don’t register the almost silent footsteps behind me. Not until there’s a hand on my shoulder. Instinct takes over, my self-defence training that Chad taught me kicking in. I elbow them in ribs, turn, and punch whoever it is in the face.

Oh holy shit. I just punched Jayce in the face.

“Ahh, what the hell?” he says, his voice muffled from holding his nose.

My hand goes up to my mouth in shock. “Oh my god, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Jayce’s gaze falls to the floor, noticing the papers I dropped during the kafuffle. “Is that…” he says, his head tilting to the side. He bends down and picks up the photo with his right hand while his left still holds his nose. “Why do you have a photo of us? And where did you learn to hit like that… ow! And why did you break my nose?”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Jayce.”

“Then tell me,” he says, like it’s as simple as that.
Maybe it is that simple?

“At least let me fix your nose while I do it,” I say, grabbing his hand and leading him out to the treatment room.

“What happened here?” Aunt Kenna asks, rushing over to us.

“Oh you know, just your butt-kicking niece thinking I was a punching bag,” Jayce says, laughing, then wincing in pain.

Aunt Kenna looks at me. “There’s the girl we’ve been waiting to see again!” She comes over to hug me.

Jayce, shocked, looks at Aunt Kenna. “You’re happy that she punched me?”

“You have to understand, Jayce, this side of Allira hasn’t been seen for a long time. After losing…” she looks at me suddenly, afraid she’s about to cross a line.

“He knows about Chad,” I mumble.

Her eyes widen in surprise, but a smile crosses her lips. She turns back to Jayce. “When Chad died, it was like a part of her died with him. It was almost like…” she hesitates, “like he took all of her strength and determination with him. Like he was the reason she was so confident, so brave, so strong. I haven’t seen her like that in a long time.”

I wipe the few tears that have escaped me as she wraps her arm around me again. “You never told me you felt that way.”

“I didn’t think you had the strength to hear it,” she says, holding me tighter.

“You do now?” I ask.