“You’re going out with an enforcer?” Jackson spit the words out so violently that she felt like she’d been slapped.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He scoffed. “You’re better than that. You’re a James.”
“My dad’s an enforcer. You know that.”
The disdain on Jackson’s face took her totally by surprise. Most of the children of the council members acted like they were better than everyone else, but Jackson had never acted that way before, at least not with her. Now though, he looked on the verge of spitting. As if the idea of her going out with someone who guarded the settlement was the same as whoring herself out in shantytown.
“Colton is a nice guy,” she argued. “You’d like him.”
Something flashed in Jackson’s eyes that made her realize he would not like anyone she dated. Ever.
Meg had always thought they were on the same page with their relationship, but standing in front of him at that moment, she found herself wondering if that was true. Was he waiting for her to change her mind? Did he think they would eventually end up together if he just waited long enough?
True, she’d had those thoughts herself, had even thought she was attracted to Jackson. But after her short time with Colton, she now knew that she’d been fooling herself. She thought Jackson was good looking enough, but that wasn’t the same as being attracted to another person. She was attracted to Colton. She felt tingles when she was close to him, had felt her breath catch when he reached out to touch her arm, had stared at his lips while he talked and imagined what it would be like to kiss him. None of those things happened with Jackson, though.
But he was still her friend.
“Jackson,” she said, reaching out for him. It hurt when he pulled away, but she went on anyway. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then don’t go out with him.” He set his jaw in a way that Meg knew meant she wouldn’t be able to get through to him.
They rarely disagreed, had never fought, but something about this seemed different. She wasn’t willing to back down just to make him happy, though. As much as she loved Jackson, she had to put herself first.
“I’m going out with him,” she said, and then turned and walked away.
He’d get over it. If he loved her, he’d want her to be happy.
Things with Colton moved faster than she had ever thought possible. For their first date he took her to the small theater in the settlement, a luxury she rarely got to take advantage of, and then to the park. She had butterflies in her stomach the whole time, but it wasn’t because being with him made her nervous. In fact, it was easy, natural almost. No, the butterflies that refused to be quieted had more to do with excitement. Every look Colton gave her made her heart beat faster, and when he took her hand in his she felt weak in the knees. He had that affect on her, and even though she was no stranger to romance novels and had read about this very scenario dozens of times, experiencing it was a totally different sensation.
He didn’t kiss her when he took her home that night, and since their second date involved dinner with her parents, he didn’t that night either. It wasn’t until date number three that it finally happened. After they had dinner at one of the few restaurants in the entertainment district—which was really more of a bar—Colton had walked her to her apartment just like he had the first night, only this time they stopped outside the door.
“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” he whispered as he ran his hand down the side of her face.
“A couple times.”
Meg’s face flushed, but it was from him, not his words. From the warmth of his body, so close to hers, and the way his blue eyes studied her. His gaze moved to her lips and her breath caught in her throat, and she knew before he leaned forward that he was going to kiss her.
When his mouth touched hers, the first thought that went through her head was that she’d been so, so wrong about how soft his lips looked. They were a million times softer, and warm. The way they moved over hers made her heart pound in her ears, made her lean into him and lift herself up on the tips of her toes so she could be closer. His hands moved up her back and the simple touch seemed to set her on fire. The kiss deepened, and when he ran his tongue over her lips she opened her mouth, allowing him in.
It was a first kiss she would never forget.
The weeks stretched on and she saw Jackson very little. Colton took up all her time, was in her thoughts even when he wasn’t with her. He fit into her life so perfectly because her parents loved him, as did her aunts and uncles and cousins. He was kind and funny and smart and gentle, and she could feel herself falling for him, harder than she’d ever thought possible.
The more time they spent together, the more the relationship heated up. She knew he wanted to take the next step, and part of her did as well, but she held back because it was such a big step to take. Only four months ago she’d never even been kissed, and then Colton had swept into her life and consumed her, and before she even knew what happened everything had changed. Every moment they had alone they were in each other’s arms, kissing, touching, and exploring each other with a hunger she hadn’t known was possible.
He never pushed her. Never pressured her to do anything she wasn’t ready for, but it didn’t take long before she found it impossible to hold back.
Her father was working a late shift and Colton was already at their apartment when her mom got called out to deliver a baby. Left alone, they found their way to Meg’s room as usual, and it didn’t take long for things to heat up. Colton kissed his way down her neck, his hands moving over her curves and leaving trails of fire behind. Meg knew he wanted her, could feel how much as he moved his body against hers. Even with most of their clothes on what he was doing felt good, and just like every other time they’d found themselves in this situation, she couldn’t help wondering how it would feel to finally give in.
“I love you,” Colton whispered against her lips.
That did it for Meg. She wasn’t sure if she loved Colton, but she knew he meant what he said and that was enough for her.
“I’m ready,” she said, reaching for the zipper on his jeans.
Colton only hesitated for a moment, just long enough to search her gaze as if wanting to make sure she knew what she was doing. When she nodded, it was all the confirmation he needed.
Their clothes came off in a flurry, but Colton never stopped kissing her, never slowed in his caresses. He took his time, making sure she was comfortable and ready, and driving her wild with his need to please her. It made the experience perfect. Made her feel like they were perfect, made her want more of him, all of him, for the rest of her life.
Meg was still flying high the next morning when she woke. Colton had stayed late into the night, but slipped out before her parents had returned home even though she was certain they wouldn’t have cared if he’d stayed. She could see it in their eyes when they looked at him. They thought he was as perfect as she did.
She was at work when she got the news, and it blindsided her so thoroughly that she couldn’t even cry at first. The enforcer who came to the food center to tell her Colton had been killed was a stranger, and he said it in such a callous and blunt way that she almost didn’t believe him.
“How?” she asked, thinking that if he would just explain what had happened he would realize that it was all a mistake.
“There was an incident outside the wall and he insisted on going by himself. He got attacked. It was a pretty big horde.”
She closed her eyes when the image of Colton being ripped apart by teeth flashed through her head. Her legs wobbled and she had to grab the counter. One of her coworkers, an older woman named June, grabbed her so she didn’t fall. Everyone was talking, asking her if she was okay and if they should call someone, but Meg couldn’t think.
Who did she want to call?
The last time she’d felt this painful emptiness had been when Margot died. Jackson had been there for her then. He’d stayed
strong while her parents fell apart, had helped keep Meg standing when she’d wanted to crumble. For some reason, she felt certain that he would do that for her again.
“I have to go,” she said, pulling out of June’s grasp and running from the food center.
The tears started falling as she ran, and by the time she reached Jackson’s house, she was sobbing. She banged on the door, her entire body shaking and her legs so unsteady she thought she might fall to the ground.
It seemed to take forever for the door to open, but when it did Jackson was standing there. She fell against him and sobbed. His hair was wet like he’d just gotten out of the shower, and little drops of cool water fell on her warm face, mixing with her tears until she felt like she might drown. Jackson scooped her up and carried her inside, and just like when her sister was killed, he said all the right things. He held her, he comforted her, and he gave her a shoulder to cry on. She couldn’t speak to tell him what had happened, but like the true friend he was, he didn’t need to know what she’d been through to be there for her.
Angus James
The years dragged on after Jane’s death. His days were a mixture of sleep and tests. They drew blood so often that his arms were always sore and riddled with scars that he knew would never fade, but he registered very little of what happened to him, and he knew that the external scars he wore were nothing compared to the scars he carried inside.
When Jane had been alive, even back in the early days when she’d been clinical and cold, she’d always made sure Angus was given the chance to stay groomed. Having a razor or anything else sharp in his cell was out of the question, but every few weeks, while he was in twilight sleep, Jane had had someone cut his hair and trim his beard. But that stopped with her death, and it wasn’t long before his beard and hair had grown out of control, turning him into a shaggy version of the man he’d once been. Not that he cared. There was very little Angus cared about anymore.
He shut the world out as best as he could. He barely left his bed, was asleep more than he was awake, and he refused to think about anything other than what he needed to do so he could once again drift off to sleep.
But it was impossible to escape reality completely. Not with the constant tests, blood draws, and injections of new, more powerful viruses. The mutated versions they pumped into his veins never turned him, but there were many moments when he wished they would. Some strains had no effect on him at all while others seemed to burn their way through his veins, reminding him of the strain that had taken Jane from him. He would become ill, too. Vomiting, barely able to maintain control of his bowels. He’d rage with fever and hallucinate that zombies had surrounded him and were making a midnight snack out of his body. His screams were so loud that they’d echo in his own ears, but he couldn’t stop them from tearing their way out of him.
He fought the guards when they came in now. It was the only time he showed that he had any life left in him. They would come into his room and surround him, hold him down, and he would kick and fight and bite, anything and everything to try and stop them from filling his blood with more poison. He never won, but he didn’t expect to, and it didn’t matter because the important thing was letting them know that he would never surrender.
With Jane gone, Star had begun showing up at Angus’s window more and more often. The man had rarely shown up on the observation wing before, leaving the details to his most trusted doctor, and having the little man there, staring at him for hours on end, unnerved Angus. Mostly because he wanted to be able to hold on to the picture of Jane standing at that window, and over time the image of Star started to replace her in his mind. He didn’t want that. Didn’t want to forget what she’d looked like and felt like, didn’t want to forget what it had felt like to have another human being close to him.
Months turned into years and he became so deprived for human contact that he began to crave the tests. He still fought, he still refused to give in, but he wanted contact just the same. There was a constant battle raging inside him. His need to fight, to refuse to give himself over to these people, was nearly overshadowed by his overwhelming desire to feel another person. To remember what it was like to have skin-to-skin contact, to carry on a conversation. To have someone care.
Over time, another face began to appear at the window, usually at Star’s side. It only took one look at the boy to know it was the man’s son. He was young, probably only fifteen or sixteen, and only a little bigger than his father, but the coldness in his eyes put even the elder Star to shame. His gaze turned Angus’s blood to ice, made him dread the years the way he never had before. It was obvious that Star was grooming his son to take over, and Angus had no doubt that when that day came, he would very much wish he were dead.
Time passed with one day bleeding into the next, making it impossible to know how many weeks had gone by. Helen came frequently to draw blood, whispering in his ear that his daughter was safe and healthy and doing well. She promised that they would one day get him out, but he didn’t believe it. He’d thought he was going to get out once before and that had failed, and he was sure that if he gave in to hope once again, only to be disappointed, it would destroy him.
So he slept. He slept days away, weeks even, ignoring the pain that never quite left him. In his dreams he was a different man in a different place. Jane was there often, and his daughter, who never grew older than ten. Axl and Vivian made frequent appearances, as did their own daughters. In his dreams they had never come to Atlanta and he had never been a prisoner.
When he was awake, though, he clung to the memory of their last night together. Jane’s body had been pressed up against his, warm and soft and inviting, and he’d held her close, savoring the beat of her heart. That’s when she’d told him.
“I want you to know something,” she whispered. “In case something happens to me but you get out.”
“Don’t talk like that,” he’d said.
“No.” She had pulled away just a little so she could twist to face him on the bed. “I have to tell you.” Jane had paused long enough to swallow, and the heaviness of it had weighed on Angus. He’d had a feeling that she was about to drop a bomb and he wasn’t sure if he wanted her to. He wasn’t sure if he could handle more of her secrets. “There’s a failsafe. Star created it back when he made the virus, before he ever released it on the world. It’s a bacteria that when released will destroy the zombies.”
“Destroy ‘em?” Angus had asked, unsure he’d heard her right.
“Yes. It will eat away at their brains until they die for good, but it’s been altered so that it only works on those affected by the zombie virus. He has tons of it stored away in the basement of the CDC. Just in case. It’s in biosafety level three, and only a handful of people have access to the lab. People hardly ever go there because it holds the deadliest viruses known to man. Star knows it’s safe there. That no one will find it. He and I are the only two people who know about it.”
“Then go get it,” Angus had said, unable to believe that she knew something so big but refused to do anything about it. “Get it and release it.”
“I can’t. Star will know if I access the lab and I won’t risk it, not while you and our child are still prisoners. I need to wait until you’re out before I do it.” She sucked in a deep breath. “Just in case something happens to me, though, you need to know my code so you can get to it. Are you listening?” Angus had nodded. “It’s 1005637853.”
There were so many numbers, and he’d been terrified that he would forget it. That he would get out, but something would happen to Jane and he wouldn’t be able to remember the code. She had repeated it to him, and he’d said it back. They’d done this over and over again until it was burned in his brain. Praying he never needed it. Praying their escape would go as planned and once he and their daughter were safe, Jane would be able to take care of it herself.
It hadn’t gone that way, though, and after Jane had died, Angus had hidden the number in the crossword book she’d give
n in. He’d spread it out, filling in the blanks with words and names. The people he knew and places he’d been were scattered all over the pages, making it look like the ranting of a madman. But within those pages, scattered around so no one would be the wiser, he’d hidden the code so he would never be able to lose it. But the knowledge that he was the only person other than Star who knew that a failsafe existed haunted him.
The prick of a needle woke him from a deep sleep. He opened his eyes and bolted upright, ready to fight back, but the room was pitch black and instead of guards there was a solitary figure kneeling by his bed.
“What the—”
Grogginess unlike anything he’d ever felt before moved through his body, and the words died on his lips. It happened as fast as lightning, and in an instant he went from ready to fight to barely able to keep his eyes open.
“Just lie back.” A gravelly female voice clawed its way from the darkness. “Next time you wake up, you’ll be free.”
Angus shook his head but he couldn’t talk, and he couldn’t stop his body from sinking back onto the bed. The darkness grew thicker until it felt like he was wrapped in it. The blood pounding in his ears got louder, but slower too, more drawn out. He suddenly felt like he had been dunked in a tank of ice water.
He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, and then the drug won and he was pulled into unconsciousness.
Waking up was slow, much like it had been twenty years ago when he’d first come out of the chemically induced coma that had been forced on him. This time when he opened his eyes, however, he knew he wasn’t in a hospital room.
The walls were soft gray and the bed he was lying on was plush, and better than anything he’d felt over the last two decades with the exception of Jane. The light glowing from the small lamp in the corner was soft and unobtrusive, nothing like the florescent lights he’d grown accustomed to. He shifted and found the door on the other side of the room open, and beyond that a living room was visible.
Twisted World Series Box Set | Books 1-3 & Novella Page 68