Twisted World: A Broken World Novel (4 page)

“That’s ridiculous. I’m not going to marry Jackson.”

Charlie arched her eyebrows, making her look more like Lila than ever, but she didn’t say anything else.

She did have a point. The second I let Jackson know I wanted to be a couple all my problems would evaporate. But I wasn’t
in love
with him, and I just couldn’t do something like that.

When I didn’t say anything, Charlie let out a deep sigh. Her serious expression disappeared a second later, and she nudged me, smiling. “You can at least let the rich guy buy us a night in the entertainment district.”

With my head spinning, I got to my feet. “Yeah. I can do that much at least.”

Charlie had given me something to seriously think about, but I had time before Mom and I found ourselves out on our asses. There had to be something I could do to make this thing work other than throw myself at Jackson. There was a way, I just had to find it.

If not, I could call this plan B.

C
harlie bounced
on the balls of her feet as we wove our way through the tightly packed bar, her boobs threatening to spill out of her low cut top with every little hop. The combined scents of alcohol, tobacco, sweat, and death filled the air, making my head pound. It would only take a couple drinks for it all to fade, though. Hopefully, once I had a good buzz I’d be able to relax. It would be nice if, just for a few hours, I could do something other than worry about where I was going to get the credits for food, or what I was going to do to keep Mom and me off the streets.

“The fight’s going to start soon!” Jackson yelled from behind me.

He pushed forward, grabbing my hand as he went by and pulling me faster through the crowd of people. I slipped my free arm through Charlie’s on the way past, dragging her along. Around us, people who towered over me by sometimes a foot turned to glare as we nudged our way through. Jackson didn’t slow or even blink, though. He was used to getting his way.

When we finally broke through the crowd, I found the ring looming in front of us. Surrounded by a chain link cage with only one way in or out, the once white floor was splattered with black and brown spots, trophies left behind by previous fights, and just seeing the stains sent a shudder down my spine. I didn’t know why people enjoyed this kind of thing, because just thinking about it made my skin crawl.

“Over here.” Jackson pulled me forward faster, past the ring and the glares of other patrons who had gotten here early so they could earn their front row seat for the fight.

Despite the evil looks shot our way, no one questioned us. They all knew Jackson. Or, more accurately, they all know his father. There wasn’t a single place Jackson went inside the walls of New Atlanta where he wouldn’t be recognized.

On the other side of the ring, a roped-off seating area was perched on a low platform. Eight chairs with red cushions sat only four feet from the fence, all of them empty and just waiting for a VIP to show up. Jackson pulled the rope aside and behind me, Charlie squealed. The smile on his face seemed forced, though, not like the Jackson I knew, and for some reason my father’s words rang in my ears. I pushed them aside, wanting to think about anything but my family at the moment.

Jackson gave a dramatic bow and waved toward the seats, motioning for us to enter. Charlie bounced toward the chairs like she owned the place. I went in a little more hesitantly.

“I really just wanted a drink,” I told Jackson after he’d replaced the rope and taken a seat next to Charlie. I was still standing because the thought of watching a fight at all made my stomach roll, but watching it without a drink or two in me made me want to run. Especially this close to the ring.

“Sit down.” Jackson patted the empty seat at his side. “The waitress will take care of it.”

“There’s a waitress?” Charlie sat up straighter.

Jackson shot her a wink as he leaned closer. “When you’re a VIP there is.”

Her brown eyes lit up, and when they met mine, she nodded toward Jackson. It wasn’t subtle, but the only indication that he saw it was a slight twitch of his lips. He almost looked pleased with himself.

I rolled my eyes and Charlie made a face that reminded me of when we were kids and she would get mad because she wasn’t allowed to make up all the rules to whatever game we were playing. I half expected her to stick her tongue out at me, but she just nodded her head toward my best friend again. In a much more dramatic way this time.

Yes, Charlie, I get it. Marry the guy while I can.

I squirmed in my seat while I waited for the waitress. The bar was just to our right, but a wall of people separated us from the booze.

Thankfully, it took less than a minute for a woman to come out from behind the counter. She was so short that only the top of her pink head was visible through the crowd, but the people swarming the room stepped aside as she passed like she was Moses parting the Red Sea. Almost every set of eyes in the room followed her progress as she headed our way, and when she finally came into view, I could see why. The outfit she was wearing was little more than a few strategically placed strips of material, crisscrossing over her body in a way that covered the important parts while at the same time giving off the impression that at any moment something just might pop out. Her exposed skin shimmered with sweat, but it also sparkled under the lights shining down on her from above. She must have slathered herself with body glitter before coming into work.

She stopped just outside the ropes, almost like she would never dare cross the barrier separating the VIPs from the
little people
.

“What can I get you?” she called, expertly raising her voice so she could be heard over the roar of voices and laughter filling the room.

Her gray eyes slid over Jackson, but it was a different look than I was used to. Typically, women looked at Jackson like they were trying to figure out how to snag him, but she seemed almost hesitant when she looked him over.

“Moonshine.” His gaze took in every inch of the waitress, starting at her lean legs and slowly moving up. He sat up straighter, grinning. “Three.”

The eye-fuck he was giving her made me squirm. It wasn’t jealousy though; at least I didn’t think so. It felt more like I was getting a glimpse of a side of him that I’d never seen before, and something about it made me uneasy. If I hadn’t been feeling nauseated before, I certainly was now.

“I’m going to need something stronger,” I called. “Get me a couple shots.”

Jackson tore his gaze away from the bare flesh in front of him, blinking when he glanced my way. Almost like he’d just remembered that I was next to him. He didn’t look embarrassed, but he did shrug.

I just rolled my eyes. He was free to do whatever—or whoever—he wanted.

“Two shots.” This time when he ordered, he managed to keep his eyes off the mostly nude girl in front of him.

The waitress shot me a look, her gray eyes sliding over me slowly. Next to her skimpy dress, my jeans and t-shirt probably made me look like I was getting ready to go on a supply run and I wanted to protect myself from getting ripped apart by zombies. She couldn’t be much more than seventeen, which was the legal age for working in the entertainment district. Still, I could tell she was trying to look older. Her makeup was caked on, but under it her skin looked smooth and healthy. When I took a closer look, I noticed that the light brown roots of her pink hair were nearly an inch long. She was pretty, though.

Her lips were puckered when she headed off. Like everyone else she probably assumed Jackson and I were together, but there was no disappointment in her eyes. I was used to women acting like they were trying to pry Jackson and me apart, but she just looked curious. Odd.

I pulled on my t-shirt as I took a good look around the room, and it hit me that I was probably the only woman in the place not wearing something tight and revealing. Charlie, sitting on the other side of Jackson, had on a shirt low-cut enough to be dangerous, and her jeans could have passed for a second set of skin. Most of the other women, though, were wearing clothes similar to the waitress’s. Dresses that had so little material they left nothing to the imagination, which was probably the point. A lot of the girls here were on the job, hoping to make enough extra credits so they could buy their family food or a better life. It happened a lot.

“I bet she gets lots of tips.” Jackson’s eyes were glued to the waitress’s ass until she’d disappeared through the crowd. Then, almost like he was trying to make excuses for her he said, “You have to do what you can to survive in this world.”

I had to bite my tongue to stop from pointing out that he wouldn’t know a thing about that. Of course, there was a good chance he was saying it for my benefit. Almost like he and Charlie were on the same page. My Dad was gone and I was practically alone now that Mom was losing it, and survival might mean finally giving in to his advances.

But he couldn’t want to get me that way. Could he?

I didn’t know for sure about that, but I did know Jackson was right about one thing: The waitress probably did get a lot of tips. Just a couple hours ago I’d sworn to myself that I would sell my body before Mom and I ended up on the streets, but maybe it wouldn’t have to come to that. Maybe all I needed to do was get a job in a place like this and show a little skin.

I gnawed on my lip while I scanned the crowd crammed into the room. Most of the people in this room could be put into two categories: The young, like Charlie, who were just out for a good time, and the dregs of society. The men and women who worked in the entertainment district, the ones who dealt in the black market, and the zombie slayers who had grown accustomed to being dirty, both inside and out.

The second group was the one I focused on because I’d gain nothing from the first if I worked here. Young people didn’t have the extra credits to throw away on tips. Not that the people working in the entertainment district should either, but they did it anyway. Many of them would rather use their money for drinks than bother wasting it on food and silly things like a visit to the dentist or the bathhouses.

It was easy to pick their kind out, even in a room this packed. Men or women, they were typically more worn-looking, usually covered in tattoos and piercings. Sometimes they had missing limbs or eyes or teeth, and they were never without a drink in their hands. These were the people who would help keep me off the streets. I just had to figure out how to go about getting a job here
and
how the hell I was going to stomach it.

The waitress came back just as a man stepped into the ring in front of us. He was shirtless, and his dark skin glistened under the lights as he lifted his arms above his slick head. He turned in a circle, slower than necessary, and the crowd cheered, drawing a smile from him that revealed gaps where his two front teeth used to be.

Jackson passed me a shot and I downed it, barely feeling it with all my attention focused on the man who still hadn’t stopped spinning. Even though it was slow, I couldn’t understand how he hadn’t gotten dizzy yet. Between the stink and the lights, I would have fallen on my ass by now.

“Who’s that?” I asked, having to raise my voice over the cheering crowd.

I passed my empty glass to Jackson and took the second shot from him, throwing it back. The second one burned, but it also coated my stomach when it went down. I blinked when I started to feel it. The alcohol didn’t take long to work its way through me since I’d had almost nothing to eat today.

Jackson took my second empty glass before handing me the moonshine. “That’s Dragon, the champion. He does the introductions when he isn’t fighting. This is his place.”

I studied Jackson out of the corner of my eye, wondering how he knew that. He’d never mentioned to me that he came to see the fights, but it was possible. He had other friends—the kids of council members—and I knew he went out without me at times. It was still hard to picture him hanging out in a place like this, though.

“He looks like a dragon,” Charlie said before I could ask Jackson if he’d been here before.

He chuckled as he handed the waitress a wad of credits, and I wasn’t sure if it was the buzzing in my head or not, but I swear his gaze slid over Charlie like he was imagining her naked.

The waitress’s eyes lit up when she took the credits from Jackson, and based on the way she bounced back through the crowd—with every eye glued to her ass—I guessed she’d just earned more in one tip than she would have the whole night otherwise.

“Welcome!” Dragon’s deep voice cut through my thoughts and I found my eyes once again glued to the ring.

The man was facing the other way when he finally stopped spinning, giving me an excellent view of the tattoo on his back. It stretched from his shoulder blades down to his waist, disappearing into his loose-fitting pants. True to his name, it was the image of a dragon with its wings spread wide, almost like it was preparing to take flight.

“Tonight we have a special guest, all the way down from the DC prison system.”

The crowd went wild, some people cheering while others hurled boos and insults through the air. Something moved to my left and I turned just as the crowd parted and a couple burly men pulled a cart forward. On top of it, chained to a post, two zombies snarled and jerked, trying to get at the people gathered in the room. The closer they got to the ring, the louder the crowd roared, cheering and throwing things at the zombies as they passed.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “I hate this part.”

“Don’t worry.” Jackson put his hand on my leg, two inches north of my knee, and for once I let him. “They’re required to have the vaccine behind the bar just in case someone is bitten.”

“What about the fighter?” I asked, craning my neck to get a better look at the zombies even though my stomach flipped uncomfortably. “He could get infected from just a scratch.”

“One injection a week has been proven to work in most cases.”

Most cases? Sounded like an awfully big risk. Of course, Jackson would know. Not only was his dad the Regulator, but he’d been director of the CDC when the initial virus broke out. He had several medical degrees to his name, and extensive knowledge when it came to how viruses worked. Plus, he was a genius. Something Jackson had in common with his father. He’d started an apprenticeship at the CDC at the age of fifteen and hadn’t looked back. Jackson, whether he chose to follow in his father’s footsteps as leader of the new government or not, would be a great man one day. I just hoped he chose to be a good man, too.