Twisted World Series Box Set | Books 1-3 & Novella

by Mary, Kate L.

  “Meg,” I said, the word almost getting stuck in my throat. “Megan James.”

  Dragon’s shoulders stiffened, but something about the expression in his eyes told me he already knew that. Not a surprise, most people knew who I was before I introduced myself. Still, I found myself squirming under his gaze. Hopefully, he wasn’t some religious nut. I needed a job, but I refused to work for a crazy person.

  The smile returned to Dragon’s face, but something about the expression had changed. He was looking at me like we were old friends, and there was respect in his expression that made me stand up straighter. It wasn’t the same kind of respect that came from zealots—they usually had an excited gleam in their eyes that made me feel like they were on the verge of dropping to their knees and praying to me. No, Dragon seemed like he was taking me seriously.

  I held my breath as I waited to find out if he was going to start asking me weird details about the uncle I’d never met. It happened—a lot—and every time it did I walked away feeling like the world had taken a nosedive into insanity.

  After a second of silence, Dragon said, “Be here tomorrow at six. And be sure you dress sexier than that.”

  He turned away and the older waitress hurried after him. His words didn’t leave me feeling any better about the situation. So he wasn’t a religious nut job, didn’t mean there weren’t other ways he could totally creep me out.

  Chapter Six

  Donaghy

  The girl, Meg as it turned out, traded a few words with Dragon before he headed off, and now she was whispering with Glitter like they were old friends. Which didn’t make any sense. She was here with the Regulator’s son, sitting in the VIP section. Why the hell would she be talking to the waitress, and why the hell would she be sticking her neck out for me?

  I wasn’t used to having people care about me, and I sure as hell wasn’t dumb enough to think the Regulator’s son had made that offer out of the kindness of his heart. Despite what the girl seemed to think. Hell, that asshole’s heart was probably so black that if I cut it open, it’d look like the inside of a zombie. Rotten. No, the bastard had done it to impress the girl.

  Glitter ran off, leaving Meg alone at the end of the bar, and even though I knew I needed to stop staring at her—that rich prick was all bent out of shape over it—I couldn’t make myself do it. She was small, not just thin, but short as well, but she was strong. Strong enough to pull herself together after what had almost happened in the bathroom and strong enough to stand up for me. But she was also vulnerable right now. I could see it in the way she gnawed on the inside of her cheek. Something major was eating away at her, only I didn’t know what it could be. With her connections—the Regulator’s son just dying to get his hands on her and her uncle high up in the ranks of the enforcers—she should have been sitting pretty.

  I gauged her to be around twenty, meaning she was born after the virus and could still have two living parents. That right there would be enough to make anyone special in this world. On top of that, she was healthy. A little thin, but in a nice way. She still had curves in all the right places, I knew because I’d seen them firsthand in that bathroom, and her skin was soft and pale. Unmarred by the rough world we now lived in. Even under the shitty lights in this bar her dark hair shined, which was a good sign that she hadn’t suffered from poor nutrition. It was the worry in her green eyes that had me bothered, though. That expression didn’t have a damn thing to do with the attack.

  Glitter came back and held out a piece of paper. Meg looked around as she took it, almost like she was afraid someone was going to see her. She shoved it in her pocket and a frown turned down her lips. When she pulled her hand back out, a different piece of paper was resting in her palm. This one was dirty and crinkled, and based on the expression that crossed her face, I’d say it was important.

  “It’s all set!” the Regulator’s son called.

  Meg shoved the paper back in her pocket as he headed over, but his eyes were on me. He looked like he was ready to pat himself on the back for being so fucking great, or for coming up with such a perfect way to impress Meg. I wasn’t sure which one. Chances were, it was both.

  He stopped in front of me and smiled, but there was something very fake about the expression. Like he stood in front of the mirror every night practicing the gesture, but hadn’t perfected it yet.

  “Dragon knows the plan and your guards will see to it that you get to the house safely. Please give this to the men at the front door.”

  The rich little prick handed me a card and I flipped it over. Jackson Star. Figured. The guy acted like he thought he was the star of the whole fucking world, so it made sense that would be his last name.

  “Thanks,” I muttered even though I didn’t really give a shit. After DC, the little cot Dragon had set up for me would have been a dream come true.

  Jackson turned to Meg, who had both hands shoved in her pockets now. If I hadn’t seen her get attacked with my own two eyes, I never would have guessed it had happened. That was how put together she looked. This chick was badass tough.

  “Charlie’s staying with her dad, but Al asked me to walk you home.” Jackson put his hand on her arm and I found myself flinching for her. After what she’d just gone through, he should be more careful about touching her. Thoughtless asshole.

  “Yeah,” Meg said stammering over the word, but not sounding nervous or scared, just anxious. “That’s a good idea. I should check in on Mom. Make sure she ate.”

  She lived with her mom. Maybe her family was on the council and that was how she had her connections. It had to be something big, otherwise people wouldn’t be falling all over themselves to make sure she was safe.

  Meg shot Glitter a look before heading off with Jackson. The VIPs nodded my way when they passed, but I barely looked up from my drink. I was too busy thinking about everything that had gone on tonight.

  The fight had gone down the same way it usually did. I always won and the crowd always acted like it was some kind of major victory. Right. Two zombies out of the two million still left roaming this country. How ridiculous. After I’d put the dead down, all I had really wanted to do was get some rest. These assholes liked to act like I was a big shot when we got to a settlement, pretending this release program wasn’t just a more creative way to kill off the prisoners crowded into DC, but when we were out on the road, it was chains and work. When we got stuck in the mud yesterday, I was the one who’d had to dig the truck out. When raiders from an unsanctioned settlement attacked last week after we left Dayton, you better believe your ass the guards left me chained inside the truck while they took cover. Bullets flying everywhere. Nowhere for me to hide. Shit, I came so close to getting hit that I started saying my prayers.

  Yeah, the fight went the way it always did, but this business in the bathroom wasn’t normal. The entertainment areas were always seedy, and things like that happened more than they should, but if it had been anyone else I’d rescued, the enforcers would have shot me or thrown cuffs on me the second they arrived. Meg had pull in the settlement that didn’t make any damn sense.

  “You looking for a little company?” Glitter’s voice broke through my thoughts, and when I looked up, she was practically on top of me.

  “I’m good.” I took a sip, still looking at the waitress but thinking only about Meg. “Tell me something,” I finally said, setting my glass down. “What were you and that girl talking about?”

  “The one who got attacked?” Glitter’s eyebrows shot up when I nodded. “She wanted a job. Just didn’t want the Regulator’s son to find out.”

  “A job here?”

  “Yeah. A job here.” Glitter put her hands on her hips and for the first time I noticed the scars that ran up the inside of both her arms, heaviest in the crook. Junkie. I should have figured. “Something wrong with working here?”

  “Not a damn thing,” I said with a shake of my head. “These days, you have to do what it takes to survive.”

  “No kidd
ing.” Glitter snorted before heading off, obviously tired of me telling her no.

  You have to do what it takes to survive. It had become my damn motto over the past year, going back to Patty and what had happened with her. I’d done what I had to because that's what we did now. Then I got sent to DC, and every day I had to do what it took to stay alive. In there they didn’t give a shit if you killed each other, which meant that if I wanted to make it out of that place one day, I was going to have to get my hands dirty.

  Then came the fights. I started working my way up the ranks of convicts, getting extra privileges and eventually earning my way into this release program. All of it coming down to one thing: surviving. And I didn’t have plans to stop surviving any time soon, either.

  Chapter Seven

  Meg

  The piece of paper in my pocket felt like it weighed a hundred pounds on the walk home. Jackson wouldn’t leave my side no matter how many times I told him I could make it back on my own. He was so damn determined to make sure I was okay that he wouldn’t hear me when I told him I was fine.

  How the hell had I forgotten about the note, and what was in it?

  That was the main thing going through my head as we reached the edge of shantytown. It had to be after two o’clock in the morning, but this section of the settlement was never completely silent. Not with the shacks crammed so close together and the people living in them determined to do whatever it took to survive. Which meant grunts and moans filling the empty space between Jackson and me, letting us know that nearby some woman was earning a living on her back—or on her knees.

  “You okay?” Jackson asked, just as we made it past the shrine that signaled the center of the pathetic little neighborhood.

  “I’m fine.”

  He nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I just want to make sure. After what almost happened, hearing that…” When he broke off, he looked away and I could practically hear him blushing.

  This was the Jackson I knew and loved, even if his concern was misguided at the moment. When he was around other people or in public, he became his father’s son. Bossy and important. Always throwing his weight around. Like he had at the bar when dealing with Donaghy. Jackson did a nice thing, offering the fighter a room, but he also craved the praise the good deed would bring. That was his father’s influence. When it was just the two of us, though, Jackson was caring. Sensitive.

  “I’m fine,” I said more firmly. “That asshole didn’t even get close. Donaghy made sure of that. Plus, I’m not oblivious to what sex is.”

  The tightening of his lips told me not to push that subject. Jackson never had liked my one and only boyfriend, and the guy I had given my virginity to. In fact, we’d barely spoken during the few months that I had dated Colton. But Jackson had been there to comfort me when my boyfriend had gotten killed on a supply run, and after that we’d fallen back into our easy friendship. Almost as if Colton had never existed to begin with.

  “I should have been the one to take that scumbag down.” Jackson’s tone was cool, and as hard as stone. Something about it made me shiver even more than the memory of what had almost happened in that bathroom.

  “Let’s just forget about it,” I said, wanting to shrink away from him but stopping myself. “Okay?”

  “Yeah. Okay.”

  We reached my building, but I stopped at the door. “I’m good from here. You should get home before your dad gets worried.”

  “Yeah. It is pretty late.” He glanced past me, into the lobby. “The elevator is working? I don’t want you going up that dark stairwell by yourself this late at night.”

  “It’s working.” I didn’t know for sure, but I did know that I needed him to give me some alone time. If he walked me to my apartment, I’d go right from him to Mom, and who knew when I’d get a chance to read the note.

  “Okay.” Jackson shoved his hands back in his pockets. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said elusively, thinking about the meeting I had with Dragon tomorrow evening. “I have some errands to run and I have work. I’m pretty busy now that Dad’s gone.”

  The lump that always formed in my throat when I thought about never seeing Dad again returned, only this time for some crazy reason, so did the image of Donaghy’s scar. Why had that scar left such a big impression on me?

  Jackson and I said our goodbyes and I hurried inside. Thankfully, the lobby was empty and most of the light bulbs were working.

  As soon as I was sure he wasn’t going to follow me in, I pulled the note out of my pocket and unfolded it with shaky hands. The words scrawled on the paper danced across my vision, making it hard to grasp their meaning. Or maybe, just hard to accept the meaning.

  My knees, already unstable, gave out and I slumped to the floor. The note was still in my hands and I couldn’t look away from the words.

  What the hell was going on? Mom had been ranting about the exact same thing for weeks, ever since Dad disappeared, but I’d assumed that she’d lost it. It didn’t make any sense. If Dad were immune, why wouldn’t they have told him? They could have just asked him to donate his blood. Angus had done it.

  “No.” I shook my head and balled the paper up, crushing it in my palm.

  This couldn’t be right. This was just some crazy person who had heard a rumor and wrote it down. Or someone who was trying to push me over the edge right along with my mom.

  But what if it was true? What if Dad was alive and they had him somewhere in the CDC? Using him. Experimenting on him like he was a rat.

  “No,” I whispered again, tightening my hand on the note. “No.”

  It didn’t matter how many times I said the word, though, there was a part of me that thought Mom might not be crazy after all. That my dad was still alive and if I could just find him, I could save him.

  How, though, and who did I turn to?

  Jackson wasn’t someone I would ever consider. I trusted him, but I also knew that he put way too much faith in his father, who was the most corrupt person I’d ever met. If I told Jackson about this note, he’d insist on telling his dad, and that would be the end of my dad. Assuming he was still alive.

  Mom? No. She was already struggling, and even though it might help her a little to think that I believed her, this confirmation of her suspicions might push her over the edge completely.

  Parv? She was the Judicial Officer of New Atlanta, putting her in charge of all law enforcement. Something like this could put her in a sticky spot. Not to mention the fact that she didn’t seem to be dealing well with her own husband’s death. She put on a brave face, but since Joshua’s accident she’d been home less and less.

  Uncle Al was the obvious choice. He’d listen to what I had to say. Be objective and helpful. He was pretty high up, so he could do some snooping around, but not so high up that anyone was keeping tabs on him. Yeah, Al was the person I needed to talk to for sure.

  Of course, he was on patrol right now and most likely wouldn’t be back until morning. Charlie had stayed with him, so there was a chance he’d walk her back at some point, but more than likely she’d tag along while he patrolled the entertainment district. She liked to pretend she was interested in his work, but I suspected that she just craved the drama that came with the job.

  I’d have to talk to him tomorrow. After I got off work, but before my meeting with Dragon. It didn’t leave me much time, but it wasn’t like I had another choice. I couldn’t sit on this for too long or it was going to eat away at me like it had been eating at Mom. If I lost my mind too, we were done for.

  I hauled myself up off the floor and headed for the elevator, my legs heavy with exhaustion and the weight of the note making things worse. At this rate, I was only going to catch a couple hours of sleep, but it was rest I was going to need if I wanted to get through tomorrow. Six hours of work, then a few more hours at Dragon’s bar, assuming he didn’t change his mind between now and then. I had some serious doubts about that man’s sanity. Just thin
king about tomorrow made me even more exhausted than before.

  I slammed my thumb into the up button, but nothing happened. Great. The elevator was broken. Again.

  Guess it was the stairs for me.

  Chapter Eight

  Donaghy

  It had practically killed my pride to accept that asshole’s offer, but half asleep and lying in a bed softer than the fur of a damn cat, I couldn’t bring myself to give a shit. I could have stayed here forever.

  The sound of someone knocking on the door jerked me awake and I grabbed the pillow—a fucking feather pillow of all things—and pulled it over my head. It had to be early afternoon by now, but I didn’t plan on getting my ass out of this bed until I had to be at Dragon’s. Maybe if I ignored whoever was at the door, they would get the point and go away.

  A minute went by and my body started to relax, but I was once again jerked from sleep when the asshole on the other side of the door knocked again. This time louder.

  “Shit,” I muttered, shoving myself off the mattress and practically falling out of bed.

  The hardwood floor was cold under my bare feet as I made my way across the room. The curtains were drawn over the windows, blocking out ninety percent of the light, but a few rays had managed to break their way through the cracks. They were bright, confirming my earlier suspicion about how late it was. I hadn’t slept this long since before the apocalypse, and back then I had been a dumbass kid who hadn’t appreciated it.

  I ripped the door open and the light in the hallway was so bright that it nearly blinded me. I squinted and shielded my eyes with my hand, trying to force the world to come into view. When my gaze focused on Jackson’s face, I had to fight back a growl. I’d expected my guards, not this asshole.