Freaks in the City (7 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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Vanessa flushed pink, and moistened her lips
with her tongue. “Can I come in?”

Jay ran her gaze over Tyler’s ex. Time
hadn’t been kind to Vanessa. Her ultra-polished veneer had worn
away. The way she was dressed screamed “down on my luck”. As did
the scuffed and worn duffel slung over her shoulder. Jay supposed
being kicked out of school, kicked out of home, and forced to work
as a waitress in a truck-stop might have that effect on a girl.

“Please?” Vanessa said, her voice cracking.
“I’ve nowhere else to go.”

“Of course you haven’t. That would be far
too much to hope for.” Jay stepped aside and beckoned Vanessa
inside with a sweeping flourish of her hand.

Had she left the studio door open? She
reviewed her actions. Yes. Good. “Tyler!” she yelled. “You have a
visitor.”

“Who is it?” Tyler called back, his voice
muffled by what was doubtless a large mouthful of pizza.

“Your ex.” Jay turned on her heel and headed
for the kitchen, leaving Vanessa standing in the entranceway.
Apparently there would be one more for dinner. How fortunate she’d
made an extra batch of pizza dough.

 

~~~

 

Tyler choked on a piece of pepperoni. He only
had one ex-girlfriend. What the hell was
she
doing here?

He swallowed his mouthful and barreled down
the two flights of stairs to confront her… and get rid of her as
quickly as possible. No wonder Jay had sounded so weirded out.
Nessa was not exactly Jay’s most favorite person in the whole
world. And Nessa was the last person
he
wanted to see,
either.

He pulled up short when he spotted Nessa
waiting in the entranceway. God. It really was her.

Jay walked out of the kitchen, brushed past
him without a word, and started up the stairs.

Fan-freaking-tastic. Tyler’s gaze followed
her progress. He thought longingly of the evening he’d planned with
her—and of the uneaten pizza sitting upstairs in his studio.

Great timing, Nessa. Not.

Guaranteed she was here to try’n wheedle her
way back into his good graces. And from the looks of her, maybe tap
him for a loan. She’d be shit out of luck on both counts. He
reckoned he could tell it like it was, and have her out the door in
five minutes, tops. Then he’d spend the rest of the evening making
up with his girlfriend.

His girlfriend promptly stomped downstairs
and pushed past him again, juggling plates and the uneaten pizza.
Oh yeah, she was POed all right. And she was totally leaving him to
deal with Nessa on his own. Not that he could blame her.

He focused his attention on his unwelcome
visitor.

He’d once believed Nessa to be the most
stunning girl he’d ever seen. Despite being a top-jock who’d ruled
the school, when she made it clear she wanted to be his girlfriend,
Tyler had finally believed he’d “arrived”. He’d thought he was hot
stuff and then some, swaggering down the corridors with Nessa
hanging off his arm. Of course it hadn’t lasted. Nessa had gotten
tired of budget dates and Tyler having to borrow his mom’s car, and
she’d dumped him for Matt.

Tyler could forgive her for that. He could
even forgive her for covering her butt and lying through her teeth
about the whole drugs debacle. It was much harder to forgive her
treating him like something she’d wiped from the bottom of her
shoe. Especially when she knew damned well he’d only kept quiet to
protect her from the fallout if people learned she was dealing.

Did he feel sorry the truth had finally
gotten out and she’d been expelled? Nope. And if that made him an
asshole, then tough. He
did
feel sorry as heck her parents
had booted her out, though. But that wasn’t enough of a reason for
him to play nice now.

His resolve took a bit of a swan-dive when
he noted the bruises of sleeplessness beneath her eyes. And the way
she shivered beneath her thin hoodie. Her jeans had seen better
days—they were grubby and frayed. And her shoes were no longer
designer rip-offs, but cheap canvas sneakers. She’d lost weight,
too. Her clothes hung on her. All in all, she was a pretty darned
sorry sight.

Before Jay, Tyler might have gotten sucked
right back into Nessa’s dramas and immediately offered to help her
out. Now, he hardened his heart. Nessa was a taker. She’d take
everything he had to offer, and as soon as she found a better
option, she’d be off. Tyler and Matt were both evidence of
that.

“What do you want, Vanessa?” Damned if he’d
call her “Nessa”. That might give her the idea they were friends,
and she could wrap him ’round her little finger. As if. And damned
if he’d invite her into the living room and offer her a seat—treat
her like a guest.

She flinched at his harshness. Good. She was
on notice.

“Nice to see you, too, Tyler,” she said.
“How’re you doing?”

He didn’t rise to her baiting tone. “I’d
like to get back to our pizza if it’s all the same to you. So I’ll
ask one more time: what do you want, Vanessa?”

She blinked back tears. “Do you have to be
so mean?”

He stared at her, stony-eyed, until she
dropped her gaze. “Would it help if I said I was sorry for what I
did to you?” she said to the floor.

Sheesh. She had no freaking idea. “The time
for ‘sorry’ would have been around about the time you came clean
about all the lies, Vanessa. You know, the ones that got me labeled
me a scumbag and kicked off the team? The ones about me trying to
drug you so I could have my wicked way with you?” He clicked his
fingers. “Oh, wait. You never did come clean about any of it, did
you? Too little too late, Vanessa.”

She peered at him through her hair. Last
time he’d seen Nessa it’d been long and blond and straightened to
within an inch of its life. Now it was shoulder-length and plain
brown and kinda wavy. Guess she couldn’t afford regular visits to a
stylist anymore. And he’d known she wore contacts, but he’d never
realized her eyes were light hazel—he’d just presumed she wore
lenses to make her blue eyes bluer. And if some part of him
preferred
au naturel
Nessa over primped and polished to
perfection cheerleader Nessa, he wasn’t keen on admitting it even
to himself.

“You’re right. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry for
so many things, Tyler.”

“Yeah. Whatever.” Being a hardass didn’t
come naturally to him—he had to work at it—but he gave it his best
shot. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the
wall. And he made a production out of glancing at his wristwatch,
hoping she’d get the hint.

“I need a place to stay,” Nessa mumbled.

“I’m sorry? Don’t think I heard you
right.”

Her chin came up, like she was channeling
the old, sharp-tongued Nessa who wouldn’t take any crap from
anyone. But instead of fixing him with the usual
you-don’t-know-who-you’re-dealing-with gaze that had the power to
make a guy cringe and wish he was invisible, she stared at a point
beyond Tyler’s left ear. “I got laid off and I couldn’t make the
rent. My roommates kicked me out. They kept my stuff—not that I had
much, anyway. I’ve got nowhere else to go, and only the clothes I’m
wearing to my name.”

Don’t feel sorry for her. Don’t you dare
feel sorry for her.

When he’d finished with the internal
pep-talk, Tyler resorted to snark. If he riled her up and she got
pissy, with any luck she’d storm out and become someone else’s
problem. Yeah, he was a total chicken. Bwark.

“Shawn not interested in helping you out,
huh? Or Matt, either, I’m guessing. Gee. Don’t I feel special.”

Her gaze flicked to his face and darted away
again. She lowered it to stare at her sneakers. “Don’t be like
that, please. I wheedled your address off Matt. He only gave it to
me to get rid of me. I had nowhere else to go.”

Tyler’s gaze caught movement. Jay was
stalking Nessa, coming up quietly behind her. His gut clenched,
wondering how much Jay had heard.

He gave himself a mental slap upside the
head. Duh. Of course she would have heard everything. And, please
God, he’d made it abundantly clear he wanted nothing to do with
Nessa or her problems.

“I have the perfect solution,” Jay said,
speaking across Nessa like she didn’t exist.

Nessa yipped like a startled puppy.
Unfortunately Tyler was too freaked by the whole situation to find
it amusing.

“She can stay in your apartment with
Chandler and Pete. You spend so much time here your room’s
practically vacant.”

It was a good idea, Tyler thought.
Except—

“I don’t have a job,” Nessa said. “I can’t
afford the rent.”

“No problem about the rent,” Jay said, still
acting Nessa wasn’t there. “I’ll pay her share.”

“Until she gets a job and can stand on her
own two feet,” Tyler felt compelled to say. No way was Nessa
sponging off Jay. Bad enough that
he
did—not that he had a
choice when Jay went behind his back and paid for stuff without
telling him. But he wasn’t going there right now. Instead, he
allowed himself to hope that the problem of Nessa was solved. Woot
for problem-solving.

Nessa sucked in a shaky breath. Her gaze
darted from Tyler to Jay, and back to Tyler. He guessed she figured
he was a safer option than Jay. Smart girl.

“That guy? The scruffy one who wears the
boxers with the kisses all over them?”

A mental picture of Pete wandering round in
his half-mast boxers seared Tyler’s eyeballs. His euphoria drained
away. Idiot. Why had he ever imagined this would be easy?

“Pete.” Jay’s voice sounded like a knell of
doom and Tyler winced. He wouldn’t want to be Pete next time Jay
encountered him.

“I didn’t like the way he looked at me,”
Nessa said, her lower lip quivering.

Wait for it. Here comes the nail in the
coffin—

“It made my skin crawl. A-and when he
invited me in, he couldn’t keep his hands off me.” Her words were
tumbling from her mouth, and her tone was little-girl squeaky. She
sucked in a breath and when she exhaled, it was all shaky. “He
seriously creeped me out.”

Tyler let his eyelids drift shut as he
pinched the bridge of his nose. Pete went through girls like water.
And a girl like Nessa, desperate and vulnerable and living right
under his nose? No matter what Tyler said to him, Nessa would be
too much of a temptation. He’d be all over her like a rash. And she
wouldn’t be able to walk away because she had nowhere else to go.
The idea had disaster written all over it. Dammit.

Tyler glanced at Jay, wondering whether she
had come to the same conclusion. From the set of her jaw and the
way she was flexing her fingers, she’d happily strangle someone
right about now. Pete, most likely. And he’d bet his guitar Nessa
would be a close runner-up for second.

“You can have the spare room,” Jay said. And
before Nessa could voice her thanks, Jay added, “Temporarily. Until
you get a job. And believe me, Vanessa, you will get a job. Is that
clear?”

Nessa gulped and nodded and opened her mouth
to respond but Jay silenced her with a sharp gesture. “Show her to
her room, Tyler. And grab her some linen so she can make up her
bed. I’ve thrown together another pizza. Dinner will be in ten.”
And with that, Jay turned on her heel and vanished into the kitchen
again.

“She’s not happy, is she?”

Tyler puffed a disgruntled breath through
his nose. “Ya think?” He slanted Nessa a sideways gaze,
half-expecting a triumphant expression because she’d gotten what
she wanted.

She looked anything but triumphant. Maybe
she had changed.

Yeah. Riiight.

“Maybe it’d be best if I went back to your
apartment. Pete’s a bit of a sleaze but I’ve handled sleazy guys
before. We get a lot of them at Time-Out.” Her attempt at a laugh
was brittle and pathetic and not at all convincing.

“If Jay says you can stay here, then you can
stay.”

Nessa quirked an eyebrow. “And what Jay says
goes?”

If she thought she’d get a rise out of him
with that comment she’d be disappointed. “It’s
her
place.
And you’d better remember that.”

He stomped up the stairs to the second floor
with Nessa trailing behind him. A chivalrous guy would give her the
larger of the two spare bedrooms—his room. Tyler wasn’t feeling
particularly chivalrous. He opened the door on the smallest of the
three bedrooms. “Here’s your room.”

Nessa pushed past him and walked to the
middle of the room. Tyler leaned his shoulder on the doorjamb and
watched her turn a slow three-sixty. Her eyes widened as she took
in the double bed, the freestanding wooden wardrobe with matching
tallboy and bedside cabinets, the flat-screen on the wall. She
dropped her duffel on the rug and sank onto the bed. She bounced
experimentally. When she quit bouncing, she smoothed the
maroon-colored comforter laid atop the mattress with her palm.
“Wow.”

“Yeah. It
is
nice. So don’t steal
anything. Don’t fuck this up, Vanessa.”

Hurt flared in her eyes and before he felt
tempted to apologize, Tyler said, “I’ll go get some sheets.”

When he came back with an armful of bed
linen and towels, Nessa hadn’t moved. She accepted the linen,
placing it carefully on the bed beside her. “So what’s with the
changing names?”

“What do you mean?”

“Jay Smith. Jaime Smythson.”

“Oh. That.” Tyler groped about for an
explanation that wouldn’t set off Nessa’s BS meter. She was gazing
at him, all expectant and curious, and he was freaking clueless.
Crap.

“This really is her place, isn’t it?” Nessa
said. “Jay’s, I mean.”

“Yep.”

“It’s not a rental.”

“Nope.”

“I get it. She’s like, really rich, isn’t
she? And she didn’t want the kids at Greenfield High to know, so
she went by an alias.”

“Yep.” Whew. Dodged that bullet.

“Is that why you’ve hooked up with her
again?”

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