Forget Me Not

by Stacey Nash

  I nod. The familiar wall’s even there for her. He must never let it down. Not for me, not for Lilly, not for anyone. It should make me feel sad, but a little seed of hope plants itself in my heart that maybe I am different. Maybe he does open a little more for me. “He’s still such a closed book,” I say. “What did the agent want with his family?”

  “Dad believes they were on the run from The Collective, but we don’t really know. Jax has never spoken about it.”

  She only mentioned a mother and a sibling, so what about the rest of his family? I can’t help wondering where they fit in. Perhaps it’s the basis for his abandonment story. Most lies are founded in truth, after all.

  Lilly places the cleaned dagger with its twin on the table beside the bed and yawns so wide I can see her tonsils. “Maybe they’d used some form of tech.” She shrugs. “I still get the feeling he doesn’t really trust anybody. You’re the first person I’ve ever seen him let his guard down around.”

  My throat thickens, constricts, but I still try to swallow. The room blurs like looking through water, but I refuse to blink, not letting the tears overflow. No wonder he pushes everyone away. I yawn and rub at my eyes to pretend I’m tired while catching the unshed tears.

  “Well, I’d hate to see what he’s like with everybody else,” I say, “because his guard is strong as a brick wall. One I can’t knock down no matter how hard I try.”

  “Oh, honey, keep trying. You really are making a difference.”

  His hand twitches where it rests on the hilt of his blade while he sleeps.

  “What about his father?” I ask.

  “Dad only saw the woman and child, but Jax has mentioned an older brother. I don’t know what happened to him or his father though.” Her eyes brim with sympathy.

  “They’ve never come for him?” I ask, more to myself than to her.

  “No, and he’s never asked to find them. I guess they must have been murdered, as well.”

  A wave of emotion washes over me, threatening to pull me under. No wonder he hides behind a wall of sarcasm. The loss of a parent is more than heartbreaking. I step out of the bed and, timid as a mouse, move across the floor. Easing myself down with care not to wake him and, my face toward him, I scoot under the blanket.

  His hair skims the long black lashes which fringe the lids of his closed eyes. Dark grey smudges like day-old bruises hang beneath them. The line of his jaw lies lax and soft, and his pink lips are slightly parted with no sign of a smirk. He looks so sweet, so vulnerable that I reach out and cover his hand with mine. Images of my mother waving goodbye and the kind face from his carving flash through my mind as I drift off to sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  THE GROUND I’M LYING on vibrates with a series of loud thuds. My sleep-fogged mind grapples to understand where I am and what’s going on. A ringing clatter like crockery carelessly thrown onto a hard surface stirs me from the sleepy haze. Someone’s awake. The smell of food frying springs my eyes open. Green eyes only half opened and puffy with sleep burn into mine, trying to pull me in.

  “Morning, cupcake,” Jax says with a thick, raspy voice.

  My heart stutters, and my belly flutters. His gaze heats the space between us, drawing me closer. Waking up beside him—oh no, morning breath. I give him a closed-mouth smile and roll onto my back, stretching stiff limbs and keeping my breath away. My arm prickles with pins and needles from laying on it all night. My bad leg feels stiff, but there’s no pain at all. Jax shuffles beside me, blows out a sigh, and rolls onto his back too. Heaving myself up, I climb to my feet and walk, bleary-eyed, to the kitchen.

  Will stands in front of an old gas stove, spatula in hand, staring at eggs frying in an iron pan. Heaven only knows where he got eggs. I hope they’re still good.

  My mouth waters with the familiar smell of coffee. “Mmm, smells good.”

  He looks straight ahead and flips an egg with so much force the yolk smashes. His glare practically smashes the rest of them and takes me back a few years. When he caught Blake Wilder letting down tires on a car parked in our street. Will’s expression darkened, like now, and he told Blake, “If you know what’s good for you, run.” He shouted that Blake should learn respect for other people’s property. Any other guy would’ve just laughed and ignored it, but not Will. Now the poor eggs cop the same look.

  “Something wrong?” I ask.

  “No.”

  I cross my arms and level a gaze which says I don’t buy it, but he keeps his eyes averted.

  He pulls out a light purple plate with lavender flowers around the edge and drops it onto the counter. Three more clatter onto the surface soon after. “It’s nothing.”

  “Fine.”

  I lean against the counter. Something’s gotten into him. Surely he’s not still beating himself up about what happened in the Council building, because he did nothing wrong. If anything, I’m the one who did wrong, leaving without him.

  My hand moves to cover the hole in my jeans, protecting my leg from the cool breeze licking at my exposed skin. I glance around, looking for where it could be coming from. Thick, braided cords secure the velvet drapes in the living area back, letting them flap in the wind. The double doors are wide open, leading onto the small balcony. I’ve often seen it from the street below. A bright ray of morning sunlight spans across the room, beckoning me onto the balcony and into the fresh morning air.

  Doesn’t look like Will’s going to talk about whatever’s bothering him, so I leave him to torture the eggs alone. I walk out onto the small, white-painted balcony and position myself in the corner, resting against the cool metal. Jax leans against the railing, gazing at the street below. His unreadable gaze slides off the cars to rest on my thigh.

  “Leg looks good.”

  My face warms. I will it away. Surely he didn’t mean it as a compliment. The heat doesn’t fade, so I turn away from him and look at the wound. It’s no longer opened, but rather held together by shiny pink skin. I run my fingers over the new skin. “Wow.” That’s an impressive concoction Lilly used.

  “Dudley upset?”

  “Huh?”

  He grins to himself like he knows a joke I’m not in on. Maybe he knows what’s wrong.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Lilly says from where she works to straighten up the small apartment. She comes out the glass doors and joins us to lean over the railing. “The Council controls everything, right? The degree of tech available to the public, the food supply, income, religion, external and internal politics.” She flicks out a finger with each item like she’s checking them off a list. “Everything. Heck, we even know that here they have a puppet president who they move to their own agenda.”

  My head sways, shaking slowly. Puppet president, political control, what does she mean? Jax hasn’t told me any of this. My so-called mentor’s eyes are intent on the cars moving in the street below.

  “This is how we get to them. We use our knowledge against them,” she says, her voice strong, steady, certain.

  “It won’t work, Lilly. That’s just the exposure plan rehashed.” He doesn’t look up.

  “They play God. It’s not right.” Her voice shakes. “Surely we can use that against them.”

  It hits me like a wave of cold water. The voices I heard at the Council and the strange words they muttered. They want to play God. My head jerks up to meet her gaze. This is definitely what she means.

  Jax looks at me with a blank face. “I know you want to go home, and Lilly’s right. With something to hold over The Collective, you can get them to promise to release your dad and leave you alone.”

  “I overheard something right before….” The thought jumps out of my mind, and the words won’t form on my lips. “Dad….” I try to swallow, but it’s like there’s a lump stuck in my throat.

  Lilly puts her arm around my shoulders and pulls me to her in a hug. “You don’t have to say it.”

  I swallow and try again from a different angle. “Two men were talking to each ot
her. One sounded like he was in charge. I think they’re planning to overthrow The Council.” Now that it’s out, it sounds a little silly, and I’m not certain I’ve got it straight.

  Jax’s head shoots up, and his eyes widen as they meet mine. “Who?”

  “I don’t know who they were. There were two of them; a thickset one with a scar from his temple to his jaw.” I run my fingers down my face in the same spot. “He was scary. I wouldn’t want to run into him in a dark alley.” A shiver of unease runs down my spine. “Oh, and he had kind of a rough voice. It almost sounded like speaking hurt.”

  “And the other one?”

  “He was scary too, but in a different way. Tall, and he held his shoulders back and his chin high. His face was stern, all sharp angles.”

  “When?” Jax pulls back from the railing and turns his back against it.

  “I told you when. In the Council building.” When I didn’t save my dad.

  “Why would they want to do that?”

  “How the heck should I know? They called The Council a bunch of imbeciles, and the burly guy said the other guy would take his place as rightful emperor or something crazy like that,” I say. “Oh, and the first thing I heard them say was, ‘the girl is a good distraction,’ and then something about someone taking the bait and not having any power.”

  Lilly screws up her nose. “Weird.”

  “Do you think they were talking about me?”

  “I don’t know, but this is good. It sounds like there’s a power play between them. We can use this,” she says.

  It’s not her answer I want. Jax peers over his shoulder, staring at cars crawling past in rush hour traffic. His eyes are glazed like he’s deep in his own thoughts.

  “Where would’ve they taken Dad?”

  “I think I know.” He doesn’t move his gaze off the road. “We’ll need to wait until night. The place might be tricky to get into.” His gaze finally meets mine, determined and strong. Last night’s childlike vulnerability is gone. “What you overheard is perfect. The patriarchs have always been a united front, always worked as one. If there is a chasm in the Council, we’ll pull at the edges until it’s a canyon tearing the whole Collective apart.”

  He’s right. I can feel it. We’re on the right path.

  * * * *

  We sit around the tiny kitchen, shoveling Will’s eggs into our mouths. They taste fantastic, and no one mentions they look more scrambled than fried. Each sip of delicious coffee brings me a little further into wakefulness and closer to action.

  Jax’s fork clinks against the edge of the lavender plate. “The man you overheard is a Councilor,” he says. “I suspect he’s taken your dad to his home—the Councilor’s home, not your dad’s home. We’ll go there, rescue him, and do a quick search. We should find some hard evidence to use against him.”

  Will doesn’t object to Jax’s plan, but I know he’s less than impressed by the set of his jaw and the agitated flicker in his eye. He pushes his eggs around his plate without eating. I don’t agree; it’s a good plan. At least we’ve got a next step.

  “Can we port from here?” I ask.

  “My bike is still in the parking lot,” Will says, head resting on his hand while he stares at his breakfast.

  “Really?” I move to the kitchen window and yank the curtains wide open. Will’s sleek road bike stands in the deserted parking lot, right next to the bike from the farm. “Wow. I’d forgotten it was even here.” My gaze meets Will’s; we both know it’s a miracle.

  “No, we can’t port from here. We only get one jump before it needs to be reset, so it’d port us back to the farm,” Lilly says. “I can guarantee you we wouldn’t get the chance to reset it.” She flinches like she’s scared of what awaits our return. Jax reaches for the small backpack on the kitchen floor. “What weapons have we got?”

  Delving my hand into my pocket, I squeeze the brooch into my palm, and the sharp edges prick my skin. I’m not putting it in the pool. Lilly glides into the bedroom and emerges with an armful of gleaming blades. Jax retrieves stuff from the bag, dumping it on the table while Will drops an armload of fishnetlike fabric on top. It’s all laid out on the table: an extra protect-it, two guns, each holding an almost full round of ammo, and everything we had before.

  “Fantastic. Now we each have a suit,” I say, thankful no one will be left exposed. Jax’s blade isn’t in the pile, but neither is my cover-up. I guess we’re both possessive of our personal tech. We each take the same weapons we used before. Jax reaches for the two guns.

  Will pins him with a glare. “I don’t think so. You’re not the only one who can fight.”

  “Neither are you.”

  “What if Mae freezes again? She’ll need someone watching her back.”

  A chunk of egg catches in my throat, and I splutter.

  “Just saying.” Will frowns.

  “I don’t freeze.”

  Will arches a brow, and Jax lets out a small chuckle. “Sure you don’t, cupcake.”

  I frown at Will, then Jax.

  The boys stare at each other for long enough that Lilly has time to collect the empty plates, dump them in the sink, and return. “Argh, get over yourselves.” She lifts Jax’s hands off the weapons and gives them each a gun.

  “We each have a protect-it and a telcom, but don’t use them yet,” Jax says. “We’re outside of the safety nets of the Collective and the resistance’s hide-all.”

  * * * *

  While the hours pass, Lilly and I busy ourselves with righting Al and Bertie’s apartment. Will amuses himself with trying to repair broken trinkets, and Jax disappears for hours. No one knows where he went or why. When he gets back, he and Lilly have an argument, but he said he just needed time to think, work this all out. I wish I had seen him sneak off; I would have gone with him. I could use some fresh air too. We could have talked, planned some more, and… I just kind of want to be near him.

  We gather our gear, don weapons and telcoms. Darkness has descended, and the night air’s cool against my face. My arms circle Jax’s waist, and the skeleton of a bike pulsates beneath us.

  Lilly gives me a nod from her place behind Will on his sleek road bike beside us.

  I shake my head again. I never would have thought Will’s bike would still be behind the old store. Our neighborhood must be better than I thought, or maybe Al’s reputation for being crazy protected it.

  Will’s tousled hair shines in the bright street light, his face set in a faint glower. I smile at his exposed head. Typical of him to make Lilly wear his helmet when there weren’t enough to go around.

  The bike lurches forward, thrusting me backward. A sharp breath of air, so cold my lips tremble, zips between my teeth. The sudden movement takes me by surprise yet again. We zoom forward; I squeal and squeeze Jax tighter. Riding through the sprawling streets of suburbia, we dart in and out of the evening traffic. I turn to check that the others are behind us, and Will’s sleek red bike swerves between cars, close on our tail.

  We lean to the side, turn down the ramp, and onto the wide lanes of the motorway. Jax said the place we’re going is on the far northern side of the city. The Collective has an area where they all live, some type of a community. Doubt that we’ll actually rescue Dad slinks around my heart, squeezing it tight. There’s no way I’m going to let that happen, even if it means sacrificing myself. It’s what they want, after all. Me.

  The wind blows hard against me, cold as ice on my cheeks and bare hands. This is it. It’s going to work. It has to. The Councilor, Dad, blackmail, it’s perfect. A muscle in my arm twitches and sets my hand to trembling. I work hard to slow my mind. It’s just nerves. I’ve always been anxious. In the lead up to exams, I could never sit still, and my mind spun in a jumbled mess. Will brought me blocks of dark chocolate which never failed to calm my nerves. I smile to myself and turn to see him coming up closer behind us.

  We zoom along the dark motorway, bypassing the twinkling lights of suburbia and the city. We veer off
the main road, take the narrow exit, and ride through the streets of suburbs again. The road is quiet and dark without much traffic.

  A fence pieced together with stones and concrete overshadows the road. The bike slows as we near cast iron gates illuminated by streetlights. A small building stands between the gates. Jax doesn’t stop or slow enough to draw attention. I can see each side of both gates stands at least double the height of a person. A bright shaft of light shines out the window of the stone building, and it silhouettes a figure sitting inside.

  As we pass, the person doesn’t raise their head from whatever they’re doing. Phew. We follow a road curving around the edge of the stone wall. Just past the gates it disappears behind a line of tall, dense trees. It’s impossible to see what lies behind them.

  “This is it,” Jax says through the bike’s Bluetooth.

  The compound looks huge, way bigger than the few streets I expected. It’s probably big enough to cover an entire suburb. We slowly follow the road along the tree line. It’s straight and goes on forever. The wind whips against me, prickling goose bumps on my arms. Finally, the trees come to a sharp angle, and the boundary disappears into the distance while the road veers off and away. We pull up sharp with a slide to the side, and I squeeze my arms so tight around Jax’s middle it must hurt him.

  He shakes in a silent chuckle. “This is it.”

  Will slows his bike to a halt beside us.

  “This place is huge. I thought we were just going to Manvyke’s house?” Lilly says.

  “This is Manvyke’s house. It’s a whole community of Collective,” Jax answers.

  “I’ve never heard of it.” Lilly pulls off the helmet and shakes her long, dark hair out. “How did you know this community existed? I thought they all lived spread around the country.”

  I swing my leg over and climb off the bike after Jax.

  “You’d be surprised what I know.” He pulls off his helmet and shoots Lilly a wicked smile and a slow, knowing wink. She said she never goes out on missions, so of course she’s a little uninformed. He pushes the bike around the corner and into the thick line of trees. Will walks his bike in beside it. The contrast is stark—one sleek and beautiful, the other all ugly insides with no pretty outer cover.