Perfection

by Melissa Koberlein

  Luke swatted Gage’s chest. “That was intense. You and Steel are playing like it’s the NBA finals.”

  “Yeah, I guess,” Gage said. “Come on.”

  On their way to the locker room, Gage glanced up. Iris watching him. He wasn’t sure if she was capable of the emotion, but she looked concerned.

  The team regrouped with Coach in the locker room while the cheerleaders took the court to show off their new Adam-inspired dance routine. The music vibrated through the cinderblock walls. Gage gulped down his bottle of water and refilled it.

  Coach looked at his clipboard. “Right. So, we’re hanging in there. Luke, you need to get open more, and Rob, I need more rebounds from you. The rest of you”—he glanced around, settling on Gage—“just keep doing what you’re doing.”

  Gage wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his forearm and nodded.

  A buzzer sounded, and the team headed back out to the gym. Steel and the rest of his team were already on the court. He had a smirk on his face like the Cheshire Cat.

  Gage got into position on the court, and the ref blew his whistle. Back and forth, he ran the court. Shooting and muscling his way in for some shots on offense and guarding Steel. Occasionally, Steel would throw an elbow into his side without the ref noticing. But that wasn’t the worst of it. No, Steel’s real barbs were of a different sort all together. He had been taunting Gage in his mind during the first half, but now, his thoughts were incessant, like Gage’s mind was a public access point for Wi-Fi.

  Aw, the pretty boy can’t take the competition, huh?

  Does your pretty little head hurt?

  Now that I’m here, you don’t stand a chance.

  Steel’s voice resounded so much and so often, his comments started to blend together.

  Gage had the ball in his hands, dribbling. Steel was at his back, and his head was swimming. His vision blurred, and he swayed, his stomach roiling. It was all he could do to stay on his feet and keep the ball in play.

  I’m going to take everything from you, starting with the old man. Steel nodded in the direction of their granddad. When Gage looked back, Steel sneered in challenge.

  Time stood still. Gage still heard the sounds around him, but they were muted and distant. Something tore through his body, starting at his chest and radiating outward. He knew what it was—adrenaline fueled by rage.

  He threw the basketball and launched himself at Steel. I’ll kill you first!

  Gage landed on top of Steel and punched him in the face. Steel kicked him off. The two stood, ready to brawl.

  Steel took the first shot this time, grabbing Gage by the arm and drawing him into a headlock. Bye, bye, little brother.

  Gage grasped at Steel’s forearm firmly placed on his throat, the gym spinning. Screw you, asshole! He threw his body weight back into Steel’s, knocking him off balance. They fell to the floor, and Gage was free. They sprang back to their feet ready for another go.

  Steel wiped some blood from his bottom lip, a cut from Gage’s punch, and smiled. Is that all you got?

  I’ve got plenty more where that came from. Gage lunged at Steel again. This time, Steel was ready for him and blocked his outstretched fist. The two locked together, arms entangled in defense, neither able to land a hit.

  One by one, Gage. I’m going to take out everyone you care about. Old man first. Then, I think, those idiot twins you call friends.

  Gage struggled against his brother. He didn’t know how to fight against Steel’s mental onslaughts, and he was losing stamina.

  Suddenly, a new set of hands were on him. “Gage, let go!”

  Vaguely, Gage recognized Coach’s voice, but he shrugged him off. This was a fight he intended to finish.

  Steel smiled. You’re no match for me.

  This incited Gage further, his heart pounding as white-hot adrenaline tore through his limbs. There was a thud, like a body hitting the floor. Then, someone screamed.

  Gage pushed Steel away and looked around.

  Coach Smith was on the floor motionless, bleeding from his nose. Surely, he didn’t knock him down, did he? There was no way. Coach was way too strong.

  Gage knelt next to him, shaking him. “Coach?”

  “Move aside, Gage.”

  It was Mac Grayson. Gage stood and backed up, his throat raw. What was he thinking, allowing Steel to taunt him into a fight? Now, his coach was hurt. Stupid. Really fucking, stupid.

  The next thing he knew, Mark Koonz was rushing toward them, pushing a gurney. Thankfully, there was always an on-duty paramedic at games. Mac moved to the side to let him work.

  Gage held his breath, fighting back tears. He’d been in fights before but nothing like this, with a man lifeless on the ground. He glanced over at Steel to see what his reaction was. He was motionless, his eyes cast down.

  “I’ve got a pulse. Let’s move him,” Mark said as Mac and he lifted him onto the gurney. Mark rushed toward the exit of the gym with a handful of worry-faced adults in tow.

  Mac turned to the stands and shouted, “Game is over, folks.” Then he focused on Gage. “Do you want to tell me what the hell is going on?”

  Gage swallowed hard. That was the problem. When he was around Steel, he didn’t think—he just reacted. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean for Coach to get hurt.”

  Before the conversation could continue, Sam was there. “That’s enough, Mac. Come on, Gage, game’s over.”

  Mac opened his mouth as if to object but thought better of it.

  Gage allowed is granddad to lead him off the court but glanced back at Steel, who gave him a two-finger salute. See you around.

  Something in Gage’s gut told him that Steel was responsible for what happened to Coach. He didn’t have proof and likely never would, but his brother was bad news. For everyone.

  9

  Dress Detail

  Iris

  A week had passed since the fight at the basketball game. Iris hadn’t heard from Gage. Evie called it ghosting. She was doing everything she could not to think about him, a difficult feat for a girl whose head was filled with files of every moment she’d spent with him. So, she spent her time doing the only other thing she’d developed a passion for—fashion.

  Hand-drawn patterns were scattered and pinned on a large bulletin board in the back room of Dalia’s clothing store. Iris ran her hands over the silky fabric on the table next to Dalia, who was working fiercely at her sewing machine. Busts surrounded them, some awaiting Dalia’s newest creations, while others donned her freshly sewn masterpieces. Iris’s heart fluttered. She’d never felt so alive as she did when she was inside Dalia’s shop. It wasn’t just the clothing either. It was the ideas she sensed flowing through Dalia into her work, producing some of the most beautiful fashions Iris had ever seen, and she’d seen quite a few in her research. Dalia had a proclivity toward soft colors and silken fabrics.

  “I love this one.” Iris lifted a bolt of shimmery amethyst fabric.

  Dalia stopped and looked up, her dark, shiny hair braided perfectly down her back matching dark, sparkling eyes. “Yeah, I’m planning on a dress for that one.” Smiling, she looked back down at the length of fabric she was feeding through the foot on her sewing machine. “It would look spectacular on you with your eyes and hair.”

  Iris frowned. “I wouldn’t have anywhere to wear it.”

  “Really? I can’t imagine you haven’t been asked out yet.” Dalia smiled, demurely.

  “Well, I did…” Iris started, not sure how to explain what happened. She sighed. She had, but it was a failure. Beyond that, she’d only been attending Ashwater High for a short time, and while she tried her best to fit in, she wasn’t making much headway beyond the circle of friends that kept her secret. Most of the other kids at school thought she was odd. With her extra sensitive hearing, she heard them whispering about her from a distance.

  “What happened?” Dalia stopped sewing, a sparkle of anticipation in her eyes.

  Iris shrugged and lea
ned against the table, her hands gripping the edge on either side. “I don’t know. Gage Strickland asked me out, and then, according to Evie, he ghosted me. He never picked a date.”

  “Huh.” Dalia pursed her lips. “Ghosted?”

  “Yes.”

  Dalia frowned, her eyebrows forming a V. “Well, that’s a bunch of shit.”

  Iris went rigid and stared at Dalia. Slang and profanity were common for teenagers. But it was not common for adults to use profanity when talking to those under the age of eighteen.

  “I’m sorry, hun. I probably shouldn’t have said that.” Dalia laughed. “But you don’t have to wait for a boy to ask you out on a date.”

  Iris’s face warmed. She touched her cheek, her hand cool. Her mind drifted to a tall boy with kind, hazel eyes. He had a way of smiling at her that sent tiny little shockwaves right into her metal brain. She smiled. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Do you know Gage Strickland?”

  “Do I know Gage Strickland?” Dalia smirked. “Of course I do. Everyone in this town does.”

  Iris nodded and put the fabric back down.

  “So, ask him when you’re going out.”

  Before Iris could answer, Evie bolted into the back room. She was wearing her black flower-painted boots and signature ponytail. “Hey, guys.” She glanced at the clothed busts. “Wow, look at these. You two have been busy.”

  “We sure have. Iris is quite the seamstress. I’ve never had someone pick up sewing as quickly as she has,” said Dalia, her gaze traveling their work.

  Iris’s cheeks heated. She’d enjoyed every minute of her time with Dalia sewing. “I just have some clothes to put away from the dressing rooms before I’m ready.”

  Evie touched the only black blouse on a mannequin. “Take your time.”

  Iris nodded and headed to the dressing room area. She loved helping customers find the right sizes and styles, but she hated putting the clothes back on the racks. Today, as Dalia had mentioned, there were quite a few kids from Ashwater High who’d purchased dresses. It’d taken them forever to find what they were looking for. Iris grinned, recalling the last girl she helped who was looking for the most specific color of green and nothing seemed to be right. Finally, forty-seven minutes and thirty-eight seconds after she entered the store, she chose the very first green dress Iris suggested. What a waste of time.

  She pushed open the door to the first dressing room, and it swung shut behind her. The occupant had left all her selections strewn in a pile on the floor. She bent over and picked up the shirt setting on top.

  “Looking good, Iris,” a distinct, familiar male voice said.

  Iris’s threat detection protocol and internal weaponry was deactivated, but her instincts were as sharp as ever. In an instant, she had the boy by the throat, pressed up against the wall of the dressing room, lifting him off the floor in an instant.

  “It’s me,” he squeaked out. His eyes bulged as he pried at her hand clasped firmly around his windpipe.

  She let go, dropping him back down to the floor. “What are you doing here?”

  Steel bent over, coughing and massaging his neck. He smiled weakly up at her, tears in his eyes from the strain on his throat. “Seeing my girl?”

  Iris narrowed her eyes at him. “I am not your girl.”

  Recovered, he stood and grazed the back of his hand against her cheek.

  She pushed him away and stared down at the floor.

  “Don’t be this way, Iris. Don’t you remember how great we were? You, me, and our little bed?”

  Iris’s cheeks burned as files she had no desire to access came flooding back. She’d stored most of her memories from her time at Bio-Core away. Now, he was unzipping them back to the present faster than a hacker with a passcode. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t miss the contact she had with him. Even more disturbing was that she was attracted to someone who looked identical to him. But she wasn’t that coldhearted android that she’d been back then. She was different now, with a chance for a real future. She wouldn’t screw it up.

  She steadied herself against his advances and replied, “I am not her anymore.”

  Steel smiled again, and she could see the difference between him and Gage. Where Gage had kindness in his eyes, Steel had something dark that bordered on sinister. Gage’s smile was full, whole, vibrant. Steel’s lips curved up on one side, lopsided, mocking. They were identical in all physical respects, but they were complete opposites in the way they carried themselves. It was a dead giveaway.

  Steel rubbed his fingers up and down her upper arm. “It’s my brother, isn’t it?”

  “Stop.” Iris swiped his hand away. He’d done enough already. He was the reason she hadn’t seen or heard from Gage in a week. “You leave him alone. Do you understand me?”

  “Believe me, I already got this lecture from Grampy Strickland. I won’t hurt another hair on the golden boy’s head.” Steel rolled his eyes and placed his hands on his hips. “God, I hate this town.”

  “He’s your brother.”

  He arched an eyebrow, his gaze finding hers. “Is that why you like him so much? Maybe you miss me just a little bit?”

  Iris inhaled sharply. “No, and he’s nothing like you.”

  “You’re right.” Steel studied himself in the mirror and ran his hand through his hair, smirking. “I am definitely the more attractive brother.”

  Hearing footsteps, Iris motioned for Steel to be quiet.

  “Hey, Iris, do you need a hand?” Evie asked from outside the dressing room.

  Steel reached for the handle on the door, but Iris grabbed his hand. “No.”

  He leaned next to her ear, his breath warm on her cheek, his nose grazing her hair. “What are you afraid of?”

  She stifled the groan in her throat as she pushed him away. “I got it, Evie. Could you grab my purse from behind the counter?”

  “Sure,” Evie said.

  When Iris was sure Evie had left, she grabbed the pile of clothes from the floor and opened the dressing room door.

  “Leave me alone.” She glanced at Steel then walked out and didn’t look back.

  10

  Catch Up

  Gage

  Gage stood in a field and there were dozens of men with weapons raised in front of him. Steel was there, his eyes intent on Gage, mocking him.

  “You can’t escape, brother.”

  Gage yelled to the men to get away as he’d seen this very incident unfold dozens of times.

  Steel clapped Gage on the shoulder, holding him steadfast to witness the horrible incident one more time. Rage tore through him at his inability to move or help. Steel closed his eyes, and as if something terrible pained him, he sank his fingers into Gage’s shoulder hard, holding him steadfast. Gage shouted over and over to the men that they were in danger. The guards did not run. They convulsed and fell. Before he woke, a new image, one of Coach lying on the floor, passed before his eyes.

  He bolted upright with a start, his breath ragged. The same dream again. He grabbed a tissue from his nightstand and wiped the tears from his eyes. Damn. His dreams were getting more vivid, and he was certain more than ever of who was to blame. Steel wasn’t just speaking to him—he’d worked his way into Gage’s subconscious.

  The door to his room opened, light from the hallway flooding in. His grandad stood in the doorway. “Are you all right? I heard you yelling from down the hall.”

  “I had another dream about Steel.” Gage turned the light on by his bed and leaned back against his pillows. It was five o’clock in the morning.

  Sam came into the room and sat down on a chair opposite from the bed. “The same?”

  “Yeah. I know he’s dangerous, but what if my dream is a premonition of what he’s going to do?”

  “This is about Coach Smith, isn’t it?”

  Gage sighed. He had a feeling his granddad was right—that his dream was his subconscious dealing with what happened at the game. But it was about m
ore than that. “I need to know more about Steel.”

  “Given the recent circumstances and your inability to sleep through the night, it’s probably a good idea.” Sam folded his hands and leaned forward. “What do you want to know?”

  “Tell me about why we didn’t grow up together.”

  “Okay.” Sam ran his hand through his thinning hair. “But you can’t share this with anyone. This information is classified. If word got out, it could destroy the company.”

  Gage wasn’t sure he liked where this going, but he’d already witnessed some shady things happening at his family’s company. How much worse could it be? “You have my word.”

  “When you were born, you were perfect. The most handsome baby I’d ever seen.” Sam sat back and smiled. He paused, his mind seeming to drift as did his smile. “Then, your brother came. Seven minutes and six seconds later, to be precise. He wasn’t breathing at first, but the doctor revived him. When they did, his cry was deafening. Everyone in the room could barely stand it. It was like his cry was in our heads.”

  “Like he does now with thoughts.”

  “Yes. We had to sedate him.”

  “Why… How does he have that ability?” Gage’s voice was barely a whisper.

  “Your mother was exposed to a rare pathogen during her pregnancy. The scientists at Bio-Core believed it caused Steel’s ability.”

  It was true that his mother was a scientist at Bio-Core and could have been exposed to something. Although, he thought she’d worked mainly with computers and not the drug side of the company. He looked down at his tense fist, gripping his bedsheet. He let it free. “Do you think Steel hurt Coach?”

  “It’s possible. The trauma Coach Smith experienced was very similar to what happened to your mother.”

  Gage shuddered. “Are you saying Steel caused her coma?”

  “It was a terrible accident.” Sam’s eyes grew distant and unfocused as if conjuring up ghosts from the past. “She was the only survivor.” Blinking out of his trance, he said, “This is why he had to stay at Bio-Core. We couldn’t risk another incident.”