Disruption

by Jessica Shirvington

  I’d kissed guys before. But it was always for a reason and I’d controlled the situation. I’d instigated it for some benefit to my cause, and then walked away without a second thought. No one had even gotten close enough to actually be the one who kissed me. But there was no doubt about it, something in me was thawing fast and, just as I feared I might truly melt, the sound of a throat clearing had the two of us jumping back from one another.

  Before I got very far, however, Quentin’s arm around me tightened as he – quite forcefully – pulled my chest towards the side of his body, even as he turned to face his father. My heartbeat was racing and I was well aware of the fact that both Quentin and I had just let off a few rounds of pulse alerts.

  Seeing Garrett Mercer standing right there, knowing I’d just broken into his mainframe computer and then hung around to make out with his son … I was damn glad Gus had sorted me out with the heart-rate muter.

  Quentin ran a hand through his hair. ‘Dad,’ he said, his voice uneven.

  I had no idea what to do. This man was responsible for so many terrible things. He was beyond cruel, beyond dangerous. Quentin kept a tight arm around my waist, holding my front to his side. I realised he was making sure the seeping blood was covered. He’d been so fast to cover it. Cover for me.

  ‘Quentin, what are you doing in here?’ Garrett Mercer said. His tone was level, untroubled. I glanced towards him; his eyes were on me, one hand in his pocket, the other on his hip. He was a good-looking man. Sure didn’t hurt that his tailor-made suit probably cost more than most people’s mortgages.

  My instinct was to be fierce. To stare him down and show no fear. But I couldn’t quite move past the fact that I’d just been in a lip-lock with his son, and a blush crept up my neck.

  ‘We were taking a tour and got … waylaid. Sorry,’ Quentin replied sheepishly.

  That was when I began to truly panic. Had I put everything back where it was supposed to be?

  Garrett Mercer walked towards us, keeping his eyes on me. There was no warmth in them. He had taken an instant dislike to me. Yeah, well, the feeling was mutual. He put out his hand to shake mine and I was grateful it was my right hand that was free.

  ‘You must be Maggie,’ he said. It wasn’t a question, more like a disappointed fact. I dropped his hand as fast as possible.

  He walked over to the desk and I started to do a mental check.

  ‘What do your parents do, Maggie?’

  I pressed my lips together briefly then met his eyes. ‘My mother is a nurse at St Catherine’s Hospital,’ I replied, hoping to leave it there, but the look in Mr Mercer’s eyes said he expected the rest of the answer. I cleared my throat, my hatred for this man and everything he stood for seething beneath the surface of my skin. ‘My father isn’t around anymore.’

  Garrett Mercer lifted his chin slowly, digesting my words and clearly settling on his conclusion. I clenched my fists.

  He leaned a hip against the desk and I was relieved to see in the window’s reflection that the computer screen had gone back to sleep. At least I was sure I’d done that right. But then I looked down to the table and saw something I’d missed. Shit. The mouse was off centre.

  I wanted to slap Quentin for his stupid kiss. It could’ve cost us everything. Not us. Me. There was no us. And it didn’t matter how nice or mind-destroying that kiss was, it had been crazy to think –

  ‘Dad, we’re going to keep having a look around. I promised Maggie I would show her the lake.’

  Garrett ignored Quentin.

  ‘Maggie, I’m sure you understand, Quentin has responsibilities. You are entitled to your views,’ he gave me an unflattering once-over, ‘whatever they may be, but Phera-tech is an important part of the image of the Mercer brand and therefore one I need the world to see my family embracing.’

  I bristled at his blatant attack on my choice to keep my Phera-tech inactive. ‘I don’t want to activate the tech,’ I said simply. ‘Quentin and I decided we would explore our high rating and he chose to support me in my wishes and has kept his tech off. But he’s turned it on from time to time and shown that he has nothing against it,’ I explained, hoping to steer Garrett’s attention away from asking Quentin to turn on his tech. Quentin gave my side a discreet squeeze of thanks.

  ‘Clearly,’ Garrett deadpanned. ‘So, Maggie, tell me more about your family. Where are you from?’

  I still considered my real home as the property back in the countryside of Charlottesville. It hadn’t been much, but it had been a home and I’d loved living among the farming community. But I wasn’t about to give any of that away to Garrett Mercer. Nor was I about to offer my real name. My father’s name had disappeared the moment we’d moved into Arlington.

  ‘We’re just on the outskirts of town, sir. Have been for as long as I can remember,’ I answered. He raised his eyebrows at my evasiveness. ‘You have a beautiful home,’ I said, hoping to wrap up question time.

  ‘Dad, we should really get back downstairs. Mom has probably sent out a search party,’ Quentin said.

  Garrett kept his eyes on me, breaking his gaze only to glance down and readjust the angle of his computer mouse. I stopped breathing. Was it a message? His way of telling me he knew I’d been on his computer and had forgotten to put the mouse back in place? Or was he just moving it?

  ‘Can you waltz, Maggie?’ Garrett asked.

  ‘Ah, no,’ I said.

  ‘Quentin, you really should have prepared your date better for the ball. Especially as she’s your guest.’ He made a tsking sound.

  Quentin stiffened beside me. ‘I thought I could be Mom’s partner and give the rest a miss.’

  Garrett seemed to consider this for a moment. ‘That would have been fine, but I already took the liberty of requesting Genevieve be on standby in case your … date wasn’t skilled.’ He looked at me condescendingly. ‘Though I am sure you are certainly skilled in other areas.’

  There were so many ways I could take that comment. None good.

  ‘Dad,’ Quentin said in a warning tone that Garrett completely ignored.

  ‘The dance commences in a few minutes. I expect to see you there with Genevieve. There is little point in the entire room watching you stumble through the steps, Maggie, and I’m sure you’d rather not endure the embarrassment.’

  I didn’t respond.

  ‘Quentin?’ Garrett waited.

  After a few beats, Quentin responded, his tone stiff. ‘Of course, Dad. We’ll head downstairs now.’

  Garrett nodded and a sly smile formed on his lips that I was quite certain was intended for me.

  Quentin turned me carefully, his body shielding mine.

  We made it to the door and paused when Garrett spoke again. ‘I expect your Phera-tech to be active when I come downstairs. We are a family, Quentin. A united front. The world needs to see us that way, always.’

  Quentin didn’t turn around to face his father, he just nodded and we walked out.

  Twenty

  ‘What the hell was that?’ I hissed as Quentin ushered me down the hall and into another room. A bathroom. The size of my entire garage room.

  ‘Which part?’ he hissed back.

  Excellent question.

  I felt like my lips were still burning from his kiss, not to mention the whole getting-caught-in-the-office part, the mouse or the damn dance.

  Quentin ran the tap and filled a glass with water, gulping it down before refilling the glass and passing it to me. I took a sip, but put it down before he noticed my trembling hand.

  He shrugged out of his jacket, quickly putting it over my shoulders, covering the blood that had now seeped out to the size of a fist. Charming.

  Taking a deep breath, I reminded myself that this was just like any other job and that I had to look at things practically. As in, getting whatever needed to be done, done, so that I could get the hell out of there. I reached into my small clutch, jostled aside my taser gun and pulled out one of Quentin’s small vials. I handed it to
him, lost for what else to do at this stage.

  He took it, his fingers brushing mine in the transfer.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said, quickly downing the contents and slipping the empty vial into his pants pocket.

  I nodded. ‘We should go.’

  We headed back out to the hallway and took the stairs. Halfway down I stumbled. He caught me by the elbow and kept me on my feet. ‘How are you holding up?’ he whispered.

  ‘Not so great,’ I admitted. Each step felt like torture and I was starting to lose perspective. My orientation was slipping and my vision had dark spots in it.

  He nodded, his brow furrowed in concern. ‘I have to get through this dance, or it will cause too many questions. Can you last?’

  No. ‘Yes. Just put me near a wall.’

  He hesitated. ‘Maybe we should just get you into my car.’

  ‘No. That will look like I can’t hack it – you dancing with someone else. I’m not doing that.’ He rolled his eyes, but I could tell he also agreed.

  We re-entered the ballroom. Quentin’s parents, along with his brothers and their partners, were already gathered on the dance floor. Given that the only person without a partner was a very attractive, tall blonde resembling Ivy Knight, I gathered that was Genevieve. I wondered fleetingly if she was Quentin’s typical type. Quentin stopped with me just near a pylon, giving me a good spot to stand while having some support to lean against.

  He put his hands on my shoulders as I looked anywhere but at him.

  ‘You should wear your jacket,’ I suggested, moving to take it off.

  He shook his head, and his hands encircled my wrists, bringing them back down to my sides. ‘Keep it,’ he said. Then he leaned closer, speaking into my ear. ‘If I didn’t know better, I’d say you might be jealous.’

  I bit my lip and looked him in the eye. ‘Good thing you know better.’

  His smile was small and twisted as he glanced down, activating his Phera-tech. Then he walked towards the dance floor. When he came into Genevieve’s range, I noticed they both glanced at their M-Bands. It was obvious by the look of pure delight on Genevieve’s face that they had rated very well. She all but started humming ‘Here Comes the Bride’. I couldn’t see Quentin’s face, so I didn’t know if he was smiling too. But when he took her hand in his, and spun her out away from him, he took the opportunity to glance in my direction and roll his eyes. I couldn’t help smiling, even if my happiness did fade just as quickly.

  He didn’t take his rating with her seriously because he believed it wasn’t real, that the disruption had fabricated it. He believed he was a neg. What would he think if he knew he wasn’t? That he actually did rate well quite often. And with the likes of Genevieve?

  And why wouldn’t he? He really was the complete package. And he could seriously dance.

  Beads of sweat started to form on my forehead. It was mostly from the pain, but I knew a part of it was from the knowledge that everything was coming to an end. One way or another, I would find my dad and set Quentin up with a fake dosage that he would believe permanently released him from his neg status. Then we’d go our separate ways. Simple.

  So why did the thought rip me in two?

  Finding my dad had been everything. Even now … I still had to get to him. I needed answers and I was going to get them. But that didn’t stop me from wishing that I had taken a damn moment somewhere along the line to learn the freaking waltz.

  My hands started to shake and I leaned more of my weight against the pylon, my thoughts drifting in and out as my vision played tricks on me. But the instant I heard the gunshot, I was bolt upright, my eyes darting straight to Quentin, my breath returning to me only when I saw he was unharmed. His eyes had found me too, and I watched as his chest deflated, mirroring my own.

  The guests panicked. Screams echoed through the large space, music screeched to a halt, ridiculous bundles of wide colourful skirts pushed towards the Mercer Estate front doors.

  I moved to the side and slid along the wall towards the sound of screaming coming from the end of the hall. I reached the open door in time to see the man who’d rated as a true match with the pregnant woman drop the gun in his hand and stagger back. The pregnant woman was sitting on the ground, cradling her motionless husband in her arms, a large patch of red spreading over his white dinner shirt.

  Garrett Mercer flew into the room, closely followed by Sebastian, Zachery and Quentin, an impressive number of security flooding in behind them.

  ‘What happened?’ Garrett demanded.

  The pregnant woman looked up, her eyes moving from Garrett to the man who’d just dropped the gun. ‘I … I … don’t know. I didn’t see,’ she sobbed.

  Bullshit.

  Garrett looked at the man, who was now standing in the corner. ‘Did you just arrive here?’

  The man swallowed, his petrified eyes still on the woman. He was frozen.

  The woman glanced up again, tears streaming down her face. ‘He just ran in a second ago!’ she blurted. She started sobbing and I wondered if her tears were more about her husband or her awful deception.

  I couldn’t believe it. A three-year-old could work out what had happened.

  Garrett nodded to the woman, some kind of understanding passing between them. He turned to one of his security team. ‘Call the police and let them know we had an intruder. Zachery and Sebastian, could you please help Mrs Henley out of the room and settle her in one of the front sitting rooms.’

  The brothers nodded, moving forwards.

  ‘Wait! What?’ I said, earning myself every set of eyes in the room.

  ‘She shouldn’t be in here,’ Zachary said, casting a stern look in Quentin’s direction.

  I held up my hand in disbelief. ‘Are you seriously going to just let this happen? He,’ I pointed to the man standing statue-still in the corner, ‘just killed that woman’s husband. I walked in here in time to see him standing over the body, gun in hand! There was no intruder. He did it!’

  Garrett Mercer’s eyes narrowed. ‘Quentin, take your friend out of here and calm her down. Mrs Henley is in a state of shock, and by the looks of your date she’s helped herself to more than a few drinks tonight. The last thing we want is a bunch of kids in here messing up a crime scene.’

  ‘But Dad,’ Quentin began, taking a step towards me. I wished I could stand a little taller, but I had to keep my hand against the wall to stay upright. ‘Did you just hear what Maggie said? She wouldn’t say it if it weren’t –’

  ‘Do as I say!’ Garrett ordered, cutting him off. ‘Now, Quentin!’

  Quentin bristled at his father’s verbal attack. Then he dropped his head, shaking it. He took my hand and settled his arm around me as if he just wanted me close. In reality, he was the only thing keeping me standing. Sweat rolled down the side of my face, onto my neck. If anyone cared to take a close look at me at that moment it would have been obvious I was not in a good way. Luckily no one cared.

  He walked me back out the door, stopping near his father to say in a low voice, ‘You know he did it.’

  ‘Take your friend home, Quentin. And get her under control,’ his father said, equally as low, but sterner. Garrett Mercer’s piercing eyes fixed on me and I knew that I had become an enemy of his tonight. Guess it was only fair since he’d been my greatest enemy for the past two years. I might’ve actually tried to say something more, cause a bigger scene … If only I could’ve caught my breath.

  Quentin half laughed. ‘It’s because they’re a true match, isn’t it?’ he asked, but he didn’t wait for an answer before leaving the room with me. He didn’t need to. Negs were sent underground and true matches were given a free pass to everything.

  Even murder.

  Slumping into the passenger seat of Quentin’s car, I heard him curse.

  ‘We should get you to a hospital,’ he said.

  ‘No,’ I responded. ‘It’s fine. Just take me home.’ My eyes drifted open and closed as he jumped in beside me and took off down th
e driveway.

  ‘Whatever you say, Maggie,’ he said, anger pouring from him.

  The whole night. The pressure of being at the Mercers’ home and seeing Garrett Mercer’s corrupt activities in play. In a wedding dress no less! It was all too much. ‘That’s right, Quentin. Whatever I say and don’t forget it!’ I snapped, needing to distance myself from him and refocus on my objective.

  His jaw clicked to the side. ‘As long as you get what you’re after, right? You don’t care about anything – or anyone else – do you? Just your father. Forget about the rest of us.’

  By ‘us’ I knew he was grouping himself not with his family, but with other negs.

  His words hit hard. As intended. Anger boiled now and I welcomed it, directing it at Quentin. ‘Absolutely. I don’t care who I have to mow down on my way.’ I half laughed, though nothing about this was funny. ‘But don’t point the finger at me like I’m the bad person here. I wouldn’t have to be doing any of this if the system your family so proudly developed and stand behind was in any way fair or honest. You all make me sick.’ The last words tumbled out before I could catch them, before I allowed myself that split second to acknowledge that they weren’t true. Not where he was concerned. But it was too late.

  Quentin’s hands gripped the steering wheel. ‘Understood,’ he said with a tight nod. He did not look at me again.

  My stomach turned. I hadn’t wanted to say those things to him. I’d just been so angry. So tired of feeling reduced to cruel tactics. So tired of the nightmares I knew would always remain.

  Now I was stuck in uncomfortable silence, reliving the events of the night, which only caused my regret to multiply. I should have been more thoughtful. I knew Quentin was in a bad place himself, struggling to come to terms with his father’s actions. I was well aware that he had to be thinking about what would happen to him if his father discovered that he was a neg. And, of course, during my recap of the evening, I couldn’t avoid the constant replay of that kiss, and how it had seemed so … right.

  Unable to muster the right words, I rested my head against the window and watched the trees and houses whip past. Eventually I gave in to the heaviness and let my eyes close.