Recycled Lives

by Yasmin Hawken

  That was one of the most real things she had said to him since they’d started hanging out. The sincerity in her voice was so strong that it made him feel proud in a strange way. He was proud of her for standing her ground and for doing something for her.

  “I totally understand and respect that,” he said as he leaned in to kiss her. “I didn’t mean for it to happen anyway. Stupid thing has a mind of its own and its own agenda to go with it.”

  She released a breath, and as she did, her entire body relaxed again. It seemed like that was something that had been worrying her. She always carried herself with such a confident and strong persona that it was tough to imagine anything truly hurting her. She had brushed off Glass’ physical attack with relative ease, so he had never considered how his involuntary actions could hurt her.

  “I’m not saying not ever, just you know, not...now,” Ava finished lamely. She looked almost guilty about refusing him. “I just started working out who I can be here. I want to know that before I—”

  “It’s okay. Like I said—body parts that work to their own agendas. I had no input into that reaction. My brain was set on sleep.” He crooked her a half smile, keen to reassure her that he wasn’t just interested in sex with her. He felt something shift in his chest, like a part of him realized how special she was and how much he cared for her.

  “Would it be bad of me to ask what things were like with the Valkyries? Just to understand what you went through?” Jacques asked. He had been intrigued by her past, but hadn’t been sure how to bring it up with her in normal conversation.

  “You can’t understand if you don’t ask,” she said quietly. She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. “The Valkyries recruit young. They look after the girls until they reach fifteen, which is when they are trained in the trade.”

  “So do they take them from their families?” Jacques asked.

  “No. The families usually offer them. The Fringe is a harsh place for a child. The Valkyries actually look after the children pretty well all things considered. Kept a roof over our heads, clothed, fed, and defended us, and at sixteen, they offered us the chance to be fully fledged members. The offer of pay for sex is a tantalizing one. You’ve grown up seeing people make their living that way every day, and there's no telling if you can survive on your own. Most sign up. To be honest, the first couple years were easy; it was good, but after time, it starts to grate on you, and you just want more. Especially given that you don’t actually get to keep hold of your pay, and you don’t really get a say in what or who you do.”

  “So was your mom a Valkyrie?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I was a typical Valkyrie. Mother was a Valkyrie, Father was a Fringe Rider. I never knew him, and she died when I was six, so I didn’t really have any special treatment,” she explained. “What about you; what’s your family like?”

  “God knows,” he said with a dark chuckle. “My parents abandoned me when I was a little kid. Literally have no idea who they are or where they came from. I spent my life being bounced around Seattle orphanages until I eventually got kicked out on the streets. I was given the option to find out who they were, but I thought ‘fuck it’. They didn’t care enough to get in contact, so why should I care who they are?”

  When they had given him the option of finding out, there had never been a question in his mind. He didn’t care who they were and what their reasons were. They had chosen to abandon him, and that was all that mattered. If he ever got the chance to be a father, then he would make sure his kid knew how much he cared about them.

  “Seems like we both had shit starts,” Ava said.

  “Must be why we get on so well,” Jacques said with a smile to her.

  With that, she cuddled back into him. Her head came to rest on his shoulder, and her arm wrapped around his waist. He relaxed into her, his fingers playing in her hair. Soon her breathing became calm and steady. She was asleep. Tomorrow would be a tough day. Tomorrow, he would go to Lucy and Zane’s and plan to catch Glass. This would all be over soon enough.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Caspian couldn’t believe that Zane had actually allowed him to help out with this job. Since they’d fled from The Fringe, he’d found himself getting bored. Seattle’s laws were really strict. He’d already been caught once for underage drinking, and if he got hit again, then the Network wasn’t going to be pleased. Seeing as their ID chips were faked, he couldn’t bring too much attention to them, or he would risk the family being discovered.

  Since then, he’d passed his days just trying to keep himself amused. He’d become pretty hooked on those damn online games, but even that didn’t scratch the itch. He missed the adrenaline; he missed the drink and the drugs. Maybe that’s why Zane hadn’t fought him on this. He must know that he needed the outlet.

  As he approached the club house, he wasn’t nervous. Gangs weren’t something that concerned him. Between his father and Zane, he’d grown up in the gang lifestyle, with the violence, the attitude, the alcohol. He doubted there was anything in here that he hadn’t seen before. Add in the fact that the Seattle lifestyle was generally just easier, with more resources available, and the Seattle gangs seemed tamer than those in The Fringe. At least here, killing him came with messy consequences that needed to be hidden, not just dumped curbside for the rats to chew on.

  He was dressed in some of his more worn down clothing, his long sandy hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, and his sleeves were pulled up, showing the mess of tattoos that covered his forearms. All of them were from The Fringe and had been done with old school ink and needle, none of this new age nano tattoo bullshit. Zane had suggested he have them removed, but they were part of him. He’d changed his face a little, but those stayed. All in all, he was trying to look as rough as he could. The black eye that Zane had given him was certainly going to add to the image.

  The gang house was in what he had come to know as one of the darker parts of town. He’d done his research on the Chrome Razors. They were known for their augmentations, the name gave it away really, and were one of the less organized gangs. They didn’t seem to have a particular income, just general troublemaking and selling stolen goods. He didn’t have any augmentations himself and never intended to get any, but he could lie like hell, and that’s what he intended to do.

  There were motorbikes parked out in front, and on either side of the door were two gnarly-looking guys. Both of them were toting shiny chrome arms and a look that said ‘fuck off’. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and approached them.

  “Where’d you think you’re going?” one of the bouncers said, his hand stopping his shoulder.

  “Look, man, I just want a drink. My fucking dickhead brother kicked me out. I just need to get fucked up, and I heard this joint was the place to do so,” Caspian said in a hard and pissed off tone.

  “Fine. Don’t cause trouble,” the guy said as he let him through.

  Relieved that he’d passed the first hurdle, he stepped inside the bar. Luckily, they didn’t check his ID; otherwise, they would find out that he was underage. He was just glad that he looked a lot older than he actually was. The Fringe was clearly good for something.

  The inside of the building was low lit, music played loudly from one of the speakers, and the AR walls projected images of augmented people dancing to the tune. A hubbud of chatter from the multiple gangers hung just below the volume of the music. He subtly eyed the other patrons as he made his way to the bar. They were all chromed up with at least one piece of obvious augmentics and probably a couple more internal enhancements.

  “Beer,” he said to the female bartender. She gave him a flirtatious smile before going to get his drink. He placed his hand on the bar and paid the bill, adding a little on top. “Get yourself something, too, darling.”

  She took the tip and moved along the bar to serve someone else. She was a pretty face, but he had to stay focused on the job, not on where his cock wanted to play. It had been too fucking long since he last
got laid. A man shouldn’t have to go to bed alone for a month. He leaned on the bar, sipping occasionally from his beer, as he surveyed the bar for the mark. There was no way he could forget her face. Jacques and Zane had made him stare at the picture for what felt like hours. Red hair, pretty face, bad attitude, and an augmented arm. Just his kinda girl.

  He finished one beer and had started a second before he caught any sight of the target. She appeared from a side door, which he assumed led to the floor above. She was in conversation with a bigger guy. The pair exchanged a few quiet words before the guy nodded in his direction. There was a stab of concern in his gut. Hopefully, this wasn’t him about to get thrown out or worse. Glass nodded and headed straight in his direction. He kept his eyes down so she didn’t know he had been surveilling her.

  “Well, hello, new blood,” Glass said as she took the seat beside him.

  “Evening,” he said gruffly.

  “Am I intruding on your bad night?” she asked sarcastically.

  “A little. Just want to get fucked up and forget about my asshole brother,” he said as he took a heavy swig from his drink.

  “He kick you out?” Glass asked. She indicated to the bartender, who quickly got him another drink and placed it on the bar before him.

  “Yeah, said he didn’t want to see me ever again,” Caspian said. He’d practiced the story in his head multiple times just to make sure he wouldn’t trip up. It was unlikely, though; he was good at lying to people. “Now I need to sell my bike and need the cash to find a new place.”

  “Well, you came to the right place,” she said, resting her hand on his forearm.

  Bingo, he thought. That was the movement he wanted, a sign that this sob story was getting him somewhere. A lot of the gangs wanted the same thing, new blood. Whether it was for them to pay dues or that they needed more men in the next gang war they were a part of, all gangs were constantly recruiting.

  “You’ll be willing to buy my bike?” he said, feigning the excitement. All he needed was her to come to ‘look’ at it. Then Zane and Jacques could grab her. He just needed to get her as far away from the club as he could manage. He didn’t need them calling for backup.

  “I ain’t looking to buy a bike, but I am looking for some new friends,” she said, a slight smirk turning up in the corner of her mouth. “If you want to join me and the boys, we’ll give you somewhere to stay, help you get paid, and get you all the pussy that you want.”

  Fuck, he swore mentally as the bike excuse fell flat. There went one of his excuses for getting her out the club; now he needed to figure something else out. His mind was running at a million miles an hour as he tried to come up with some reason for her to leave the clubhouse. He was coming up blank. For now, he needed to keep her sweet.

  “Are you the one offering, cause you are beautiful,” Caspian said, and he reached out his fingers, stroking her cheek gently. She didn’t pull away, and no one came up to punch him, so that was a good start.

  “Oh, you’re feisty, aren’t you?” Glass said with a husky laugh.

  “What can I say? When I see something I like, I go for it, and you…mhmmm…I like,” Caspian said as he looked her up and down. She was pretty, but there was some crazy kind of aura that surrounded her. Well, he guessed a lot of girls back in The Fringe were like that, and that had never put him off before.

  “I don’t normally sleep with the new recruits,” she said. She was trying to seem stern and authoritative, but the smirk that took over the corner of her mouth was telling a completely different story. Clearly, she didn’t like always playing by the rules.

  “But for me, you’ll make an exception,” Caspian said with raised brows, making it a statement, not a question. This was going completely off script, but if it worked, it worked.

  She looked him up and down. The obvious judging didn’t bother him; he leaned back in his chair looking cocky and confident. He let her see his toned biceps and inked forearms. When her eyes rested on his crotch for longer than they should, he knew that he was in. He leaned in and took her hand.

  “So are we doing this or not?” he asked confidently.

  “Alright, but you better impress me,” she said as she tried to give some impression that she was still in charge of the situation.

  Her hand tightened around his as she led him through one of the back doors of the club. He tried to keep track of the way they went in case he had to get back through here in a hurry. That was unlikely, though. If everything went to pot, then he wasn’t going to run back through the bar of heavily augmented men. He was jumping out the fucking window and running for his goddamn life. He could feel the subtle vibrations on his gauntlet; so far, he’d had close to twenty messages from the team outside. There was no way he’d have time to look without arousing suspicion. He just had to hope they would trust him to get this done and not come rushing in half-cocked to ‘save’ him.

  They stepped into a room on the second floor. It wasn’t a huge room; most of the space was dominated by a double bed. The rest of the room was neatly organized. A dresser with knick knacks was on one side of the room, and a desk with a backpack was on the other side. Most importantly, there was a window. That was going to be his escape route.

  She walked towards the bed with a suggestive wiggle to her hips. She sat on the edge, leaning back with a look of lust burning in her eyes. She leaned back, slowly showing off the long curves of her body. Oh, god, he wished he could take advantage of this situation. He was actually considering fucking her and then getting her out of here. It had been far too long. But he knew that Zane and Jacques would lynch him if he did that.

  She beckoned him towards the bed. He wrapped his arms around himself, making it look like he was going to strip his shirt for her, but instead, he grabbed the knockout patch that was in his pocket. The perfect back-up weapon. He kept it hidden in his palm as he pulled his shirt over his head. He had to at least make this look real. He approached the bed. A knee either side of her lap, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in for a kiss. It was a distraction as he pulled the back off the patch in his hand. He cupped the back of her neck tightly, sticking the patch on as they kissed. Within moments, the knock-out drug on the patch seeped into her skin, and she fell unconscious in front of him.

  He gently laid her on the bed and grabbed his shirt from where he had discarded it. He was just glad that he’d had a few of those patches left over from The Fringe. He and Dare had used them for a game where they tried to get each other with them at the worst times. Caspian would never forgive Dare for the time he’d patched him when he had just been about to bed a girl. He’d ended up going horizontal on the bar floor and being mocked by the gang for weeks.

  With the shirt back in place, he went to the window and examined the route below. Luckily, it wasn’t a long fall, and there was a full garbage bin below him. This should be easy. He’d gotten out of worse situations than this. He grabbed Glass and put her over his shoulders before easing himself out the window. The landing into the trash was louder than he would have liked. He quickly jumped out and ran before someone came to investigate the strange noise.

  This was one of the weirdest situations of his life. He was running from shadow to shadow as he carried the unconscious form of a woman. If the cops caught him now, there was no way he was talking his way out of this. The adrenaline flooded his veins as he reached the meeting point. Jacques, Zane, and Lucy all looked to him with confusion as he laid Glass on the back seat of the car they had hired for the job.

  “What happened to the plan, Cas?” Zane asked with a warning tone to his voice.

  “There was a minor complication. Can we get driving now? I rather like living,” Cas said, trying to catch his breath and checking over his shoulder to make sure none of the Chrome Razors were following.

  They left quickly, heading for the drop-off point, Jacques and Lucinda in the car with the still unconscious Glass, and the two brothers on the bike. The adrenaline was still making Caspian’s
heart pound, but so was the lust. Goddammit, he’d enjoyed the rush, but when this was done, he really had to find himself a girl. A month long dry spell was something he wasn’t interested in continuing.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jacques couldn’t believe the job had gone so simply, and he couldn’t believe that Zane’s brother had been the one to complete it. The guy had gone in and picked her up with no issues. Jacques had expected a bar fight or to have to restrain Glass to get her in the car, but nothing had happened. Jacques looked back to the unconscious form of Glass on the back seat of the rented car. He found himself questioning what had happened to her, and what had made her act the way she had. Lying there on the seats, she didn’t look capable of anything severe. He could understand her being jealous, but not enough to beat the living shit out of someone.

  “You alright, Jacques?” Lucy asked from the driver’s seat. Jacques was glad that the guys had taken Zane’s bike at this point, thankful for the privacy to talk to his friend.

  “Yeah, just thinking. This entire situation has gotten so fucked up. I’ve basically kidnapped my ex because she beat up my current squeeze,” Jacques said, dragging his hand through his hair.

  “You and Ava actually a thing?” Lucy asked.

  “Yeah…kinda…I think so…shut up,” he said, blushing and pointing at her when she smirked at him. Despite himself, a smile broke on his face. Even amidst all the bullshit, he’d actually found a source of happiness. What Glass had done was mental, but she pushed him and Ava together.