Freaks in the City (12 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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“Do you wish to press charges for
assault?”

Vanessa shook her head a little too
emphatically. “No. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. It was an
accident, right?”

Jay nodded. She grabbed a marker and
scribbled a note for Tyler on the whiteboard she’d fixed to the
wall by the phone. “I need to get out of the house for a bit. I’m
going for a run. If you like, I’ll take you shopping for clothes
when I get back.”

Vanessa ducked her head again, hiding her
expression. “Thanks.”

Jay strode from the room and let herself out
of the house. It was a relief to shut the door on Vanessa, and the
nightmare, and all the awkwardness that had resulted. She set her
iPod on random play, inserted the ear buds, and jogged down the
front stairs.

She darted across the street, taking care to
keep to a speed that was within normal human parameters. The urge
to sprint, to test her physical capabilities and run flat out,
beckoned seductively in a small corner of her mind. She forced it
back and settled into her stride. If she wanted to appear human, if
she wanted to fit in, she could not test her limits. As humans were
fond of saying: Ignorance is bliss. Or in Jay’s case, better not to
explore her full capabilities lest she be tempted to use them.

 

~~~

 

An incoming text alert woke him. Tyler rolled
over and reached for his cell phone. He peered at the text,
expecting one of Pete’s invites to come over and watch the game.
Which was Pete-speak for get drunk, get stoned, make a helluva
mess, and earn the wrath of Chandler for trashing the place.

The text was from his sister.

aaargh!!! who knew baby clothes so tricky to
sew??? frickin nightmare!!!

Apparently designing baby clothes was not
Caro’s forte—not for lack of trying, though. Just about every text
he got from her lately mentioned baby-related stuff. Tyler wondered
how the guys in his sister’s design class were doing with the
assignment. Bet they were impressed. Their tutor had to be
snickering over that one. And Matt…. Bet Caro’s boyfriend felt like
running for the hills every time he spotted her working on yet
another teeny-tiny frou-frou outfit. Poor bastard.

cld b worse
, he texted back.
cld b
doggie outfits.

HAH!
came the response.
i’m safe.
fat chance mom will ever get a dog now.

He hadn’t been awake long enough to
comprehend the segue from sewing baby clothes to his mom getting a
dog, so Tyler didn’t bother to try. He yawned and stretched and
wasn’t surprised to find he was alone in bed. Jay didn’t require
anywhere near as much sleep as he did. Not for the first time he
wondered whether she required sleep at all… and whether she would
ever admit such a thing to him. Unlikely. He got the impression Jay
didn’t want to bring attention to her…
differences
because
she didn’t know how he’d react.

He flung an arm over his eyes and groaned.
He couldn’t blame her for concealing the full extent of her
differences. When he’d first discovered she was a cyborg he’d been
so gutted, felt so fucking betrayed, he’d lashed out at her
physically. And although at the time he’d known she couldn’t feel
physical pain like a human did, that didn’t excuse his actions.
It’d been a shitty thing to do—cowardly, too, because he’d trusted
she wouldn’t retaliate and smack him upside the head as he’d so
richly deserved. He’d been an immature asshole about the whole
thing and he was damned lucky she hadn’t walked away and never
looked back.

He still couldn’t believe she’d chosen him,
not when she could have any guy out there eating out of her hand.
He still couldn’t believe she’d changed her identity, spent
countless hours and bucket-loads of cash covering her tracks so she
could come back to him and be a part of his life for as long as he
wanted her—her words, not his. Stubborn damn female. Like he’d ever
stop wanting her.

If only he could figure out how to get her
to realize that
he
was the one who felt lucky.
He
was
the one who needed to prove himself, not her.

His stomach rumbled and he rolled out of
bed.

When he strolled into the kitchen, Nessa was
perched on a barstool, nursing a mug and staring vacantly into
space.

Tyler inhaled. Coffee. Good idea. After last
night, boy did he need a caffeine hit. He headed for Mr. Coffee.
Jay had wanted one of those fancy espresso machine with a fancy
price tag to match, but Tyler insisted he wasn’t capable of doing
more than push a button before his morning caffeine fix. Anything
too complicated would be wasted on him.

“Hey,” he muttered as he passed Nessa.

“Hey.”

She sounded croaky. Tyler’s gaze snapped to
her neck. The bruises were manifesting with a vengeance. Shit. He
took a bracing swig of strong black coffee and shuddered when it
seared his taste buds.

“Looks worse than it is,” she said. “Nothing
a bit of concealer won’t hide. I’ll ice it again today, stay on the
Tylenol for a couple more days.” She shrugged. “No big deal.”

He frowned at her over the rim of his mug.
She’d reeled that off like dealing with serious bruising was
commonplace for her.

“Time-Out can get a bit rowdy,” she said,
answering his unspoken question.

Tyler leaned his hip against the counter and
took a much bigger swig of coffee. And then wished he hadn’t when
guilt turned the coffee to acid in his gut. He set the mug down,
raked a hand through his hair and tugged on the ends. He didn’t
want to feel sorry for her. He didn’t want to feel responsible for
her. “Shit, Vanessa. I—”

“Don’t you dare.” Her lower lip protruded in
the pouty way that used to turn him to putty in her scheming
hands.

He blinked. “What?”

“Feel sorry for me. I brought this on
myself, okay?”

“Vanessa, I hardly think you deserved to be
half-strangled because you walked in on someone having one helluva
nightmare.”

She puffed a sharp breath out through her
nose and simultaneously rolled her eyes. “I meant being expelled
and kicked out of home and having to work in a shithole because no
one else would take me on.”

“Oh. Right.” Could she really have changed?
Grown up and decided to take responsibility for her own choices?
Sure sounded like it. Maybe there was hope for her after all.

“I left you some Apple Jacks,” she said,
jerking her chin at the cereal box on the counter. “Jay said they
were your favorite.”

Tyler couldn’t help but feel grateful for
the change of subject. Raking up the past was making things a
little too intense for his comfort. And it was just plain weird
seeing Nessa sitting in the kitchen wearing one of his old
t-shirts. The whole situation felt… intimate. And the last thing
Tyler wanted was any sort of intimacy with his ex. He didn’t want
Nessa getting the wrong idea. Or Jay, for that matter. Just as well
he’d thrown on some clothes before leaving the bedroom.

“Thanks. Where is she, anyway?”

Nessa shrugged. “Don’t know.”

Tyler padded over to check for a note on the
fridge whiteboard.

Nope. Wiped clean. Jay was probably hiding
out in the studio—it was soundproofed, so she would be able to vent
without fear of pissing off the neighbors. He grabbed his mug of
coffee and wandered upstairs to check on her.

The room was empty.

He backed out of the studio, pivoted, and
stood in the narrow hallway. “Jay!” he yelled, knowing she’d hear
him, even if she’d climbed out onto the roof—something she did
every now and then that gave him the raging heebie jeebies.

He cocked his head, listening. No response.
She must have gone out—maybe to pick up milk, or for a run. But she
always left him a note. Always. Even if he turned up unexpectedly
and had to let himself in with the key she’d given him because she
wasn’t home, there was always a note. It was a ritual—something
she’d agreed to after he’d made her promise never to disappear and
leave him hanging again.

Jay wouldn’t have taken off because of
Vanessa. No way. He rolled his shoulders, shrugging off his
unease.

As he took another swig of coffee he
happened to glance at his watch. Shit. If he didn’t make tracks
he’d miss the bus and be late for his first class of the day. But
he didn’t want to leave without checking up on Jay and making sure
she was okay—making sure
they
were okay.

He descended the stairs to the bedroom level
and headed for the master bedroom to grab his cell phone. Midway
through dialing Jay’s number he noticed her sleek purple phone on
the bedside table. Crap.

There was no reason to be concerned about
her. She could handle anything that anyone threw at her. She’d be
okay. He hoped. Though that meltdown last night wasn’t making him
feel any better about leaving her alone with Nessa for the best
part of a day.

He swallowed the last of his coffee and
ditched the empty mug on the tallboy. Books and a thumb drive with
a completed assignment got shoved in his messenger bag, keys and
wallet in the back pocket of his jeans.

What else did he need for today? He mentally
ticked off the list. A bunch more clothes from his apartment. Oh
yeah, drawing project he’d meant to finish last night. It was a bit
rough, but wouldn’t take long to complete. He could snatch time in
the breaks between his scheduled classes.

Of course he’d left it upstairs in the
studio. A groan escaped his lips. He sure didn’t need gym workouts
living in a three story brownstone.

He careened down the hallway and almost ran
Nessa down as she exited the bathroom. She shrieked, and clutched
the towel more tightly about her torso as she backed away from him.
“Crap, Tyler. If you don’t want to be scarred for life when I drop
this towel and flash you, then watch where the hell you’re
going.”

Whoa. Bare skin alert. He didn’t know where
to look so he stared straight ahead at the wall above the
stairwell. “Sorry.”

“I’m about to take a shower,” she said,
obviously feeling the need to explain herself. “Needed something
from my room.”

“Gotta run or I’ll miss the bus. Oh, and
meant to say, when Jay gets back make sure to ask her about a spare
door key.”

“Tyler, can I ask you something?”

He glanced at his watch. “If it’s real
quick.”

“Are you and Jay—”

Shit. He so didn’t want to be having this
conversation right now. “A couple? Yes, Vanessa. We’re a couple.”
He knew he sounded pissed but he didn’t much care. He headed for
the stairwell.

Her next question stopped him in his tracks.
“Are you happy? With Jay, I mean.”

He pivoted to face her, needing to read her
expression. “What sort of a question is that?”

Nessa dragged her big toe across the floor
and then glanced up, straight into his eyes. “A valid one, I
thought.”

Tyler crossed his arms over his chest.
“Why?” he bit out.

“There’s a bunch of your clothes and stuff
in the middle bedroom and I wondered—” She trailed off as she
realized she’d just admitted to snooping. A dull flush crawled up
her neck.

Tyler could guess what she’d concluded but
he felt like making her squirm. “You wondered, what, Vanessa?”

“Whether you two were just friends who have
a—” she used air quotes for emphasis “—friends with benefits thing
going on.”

“So what if we do?”

“I just wondered about your—” pregnant pause
“—relationship, is all.”

“I’ll tell you the same I told my mom,”
Tyler said. “It’s none of your business.”

She got that gleam in her eyes—that
calculating “How can I use this to my advantage?” gleam Tyler
remembered all too well. He mentally reviewed what he’d just said.
Ah, crap. Dumbass. Now she knew his mom wasn’t exactly over the
moon and jumping for joy about his relationship with Jay.

Relationship. Now there was a word—a really
heavy on the issues word. Did Jay even comprehend what a
boyfriend-girlfriend-living-together relationship was supposed to
entail?

Did she want to take this next step? Sure,
she seemed affected physically by him at times. But what if she was
simply following his lead? For all he knew, she might be perfectly
content with the same kind of affectionate BFF thing she had with
his twin, Caro.

God. What if he was pushing her into
something she wasn’t ready for? Or might never be ready for
because….

Because she wasn’t human.

When he tuned in to the real world again,
Nessa had moved closer. A lot closer. Before he could get his head
in the game and fend her off, she wound her arms about his neck and
kissed him. On the mouth. With tongue.

His stomach did a whoop-de-whoop and his
pulse went into overdrive as the adrenaline kicked in. What she was
doing, the reactions she was yanking from him… none of it felt
good. He planted his hands on her hips, hoped like hell the towel
would stay where it was ’coz a naked Nessa was sooo not gonna help
matters right now, and thrust her away. “What. The. Fuck. Vanessa?”
He wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

She stared at him, all softly parted
slightly puffy lips and hurt, astonished eyes. The towel slipped
and Tyler averted his gaze as she made a grab for it. When he dared
glance back she was tucking it more securely beneath her
armpit.

She took a hasty step backward when she
noted the POed expression on his face. “I thought—”

“You thought wrong. You try anything like
that again, you’ll be out on your ass so quick your feet won’t
touch the ground. Capiche?”

She opened her mouth, doubtless to plead her
case, but the front door slammed and all that came out was a girly
squeak.

Shit. Great timing. “Jay?” he called,
peering down the stairwell.

“Who else would it be?” She jogged up the
stairs toward him.

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