I opened them when I heard the click of my car door, and Quentin crouched down beside me. ‘Can you walk?’
I nodded.
He helped me out of the car and then put an arm under my armpits to help me into my room above the garage.
When we made it, I moved towards the bed, about to tell him that he didn’t have to stay. After the things I’d said, I figured he’d want to get far away from me.
‘Wait,’ he ordered.
I paused, but before I could turn back to him he was behind me, undoing the bodice at the back of the dress. I started to protest, but he just shushed me and proceeded. After a while, he disappeared briefly.
When I heard the sound of scissors opening and then the cold metal at my neck, I stopped breathing.
‘Relax,’ he said, his voice flat and not reassuring at all.
Then I heard the sound of material being cut and saw the edges of the halter drop from around my neck.
‘Hands up,’ he said. His voice was low. Sad. And yet, it was as if he was pleading with me not to rehash the earlier conversation. Not now.
Feeling strangely compelled, I did as I was told, and felt a T-shirt being pulled down my arms and then over my head. Quentin, still behind me, took the weight of my arms and gently brought them back down to my sides.
I looked down, noticing he had chosen a huge T-shirt – one of Samuel’s that had somehow ended up in my drawer. It came down to my knees.
I heard him kneel and then my dress was coming down as he gently removed it, cutting again into the back of the bodice to make sure it came off easily. I hadn’t seen the price tag on the dress so I didn’t know the exact figure, but I knew it was worth more than my entire wardrobe put together. I felt like I should say something, commiserate somehow, but neither of us dared any more words.
When I stepped out of the dress, Quentin stood, kicking it to the side of the room.
‘Lie down,’ he ordered.
Still at a loss for words and knowing he must be mad at me, I did as he instructed.
He disappeared into the bathroom, leaving me to wonder what exactly was going on. Before long he returned, sat on the edge of the bed, and without another word cleaned and redressed my wound. The reopening of the wound wasn’t as bad as I had feared and, now that I was off my feet, I was already feeling better. It had just been too soon to be moving around so much.
It felt like a small eternity passed as I waited for him to say something. I wanted to apologise, but every time I tried, the words got stuck in my throat. What good would an apology do anyway? It wouldn’t change what I’d done. What I was doing. As more time passed his silence became louder. After he sat me up to take some more painkillers, he refocused on finishing with the dressing. I watched his face as he concentrated on the bandages. He did not look like the Quentin Mercer I had followed and studied for the past two years. The air around me thickened, each breath increasingly impossible as the realisation settled.
I had broken him.
Looking into his lost eyes, I knew I had to make this right. And even more importantly, I knew there was nothing I could do to keep him. Once I told him the truth, I’d lose him forever. My heart ached painfully at the thought.
He stood and moved slowly, returning the medical supplies to the bathroom and cleaning up. He took a long time and somewhere along the way, my eyes began to give into weariness again. He must’ve thought I was asleep. He came and kneeled by my head, but for some reason, I didn’t open my eyes to tell him I was awake. He brushed the wisps of hair back from my face. His hand shook.
I felt the pillow depress by my face as his forehead briefly touched mine. ‘I wish I didn’t make you sick. I wish a lot of things. But mostly, I wish we’d never met,’ he whispered. ‘You make it …’ He breathed out deeply. ‘You make it that much harder to bear.’
He stood and left before he saw the tear slip down my cheek. Because, for his sake, I wished we’d never met too.
Twenty-one
Master Rua shook his head. ‘You’re not right in the head, Maggie.’
‘Well, it’s the only head I have,’ I sassed.
He moved back into position, expecting another round. Expecting more. I took a deep breath, desperate to centre my thoughts, get them on anything but him.
It was Thursday afternoon. The two weeks since the night of the ball had felt like the longest in my life. Like the bastard controlling time had made the days tortuously slow and the nights lonely and silent.
Master Rua sent a series of jabs my way. I avoided or blocked most, but his knee struck my hip. Twice. He shook his head again. ‘You’ll be dead in a week if you’re this distracted. What’s happened to you?’
I wiped the sweat off my brow and walked to the edge of the mat, using the time to sift through my thoughts. ‘I’m not distracted, I’m exhausted,’ I argued. And I was. Study, work and training, all while still recovering from my bullet wound, was kicking my ass.
He stared at me in that way he had that left me certain I’d probably get an elbow to my chin soon if I didn’t start talking. I put my hands on my hips and looked around the busy gym. ‘Things have become more complicated than I planned.’
‘When you first came to me, were things uncomplicated?’ he asked.
I thought back to two years ago when I’d first decided I was going to try to find Dad. ‘This is different.’
I heard him approach me from behind and I tensed for an attack. He prided himself on being unpredictable.
‘Maybe it is not the circumstances, but rather you who have changed. Are you sure you still want the same things?’
‘Yes,’ I answered immediately.
‘But do you still want it above all else?’
I opened my mouth to answer, but paused, taking another moment. ‘The last couple of weeks have just been distracting. Nothing has changed,’ I said, but he knew as well as I did that I wasn’t being honest.
Confusion about both the kiss and the unresolved argument with Quentin had left me feeling conflicted about my goals. Which was unacceptable. So I’d decided to avoid him, going out of my way to ensure we didn’t cross paths at school. Until, of course, I realised there was no need. He didn’t try to approach me. He didn’t call me. He didn’t contact Gus.
Quentin had completely wiped me from his life.
He’d gone back to hanging out with all of his friends, sitting with them at lunch, laughing and flirting with girls who were anxiously waiting for him to turn on his Phera-tech again. On the odd occasion we passed each other in the hall or accidentally caught one another’s eye in class, he looked right through me.
Suddenly, I was on my back, the air smacked out of my lungs. Master Rua was looking down at me, shaking his head. ‘Sloppy, Maggie. Very sloppy.’
I rolled onto my side, trying to get my breath back. I hated disappointing Master Rua. It had taken months of beatings before he’d agreed to train me, and deep down I’d suspected – and hoped – it hadn’t been the bribe that made him give in and take me on. But as much as I wanted to be better, right now the fight was sucked out of me. I turned my face into the mat.
Quentin’s behaviour hurt more than I dared to admit. Every day I’d been fighting the urge to run from the school grounds and hide in my garage. I’d tried to convince myself that it was for the best, and attempted to refocus on the tasks ahead to get through the days. But in the end, punching and kicking until I was too exhausted to stand, too exhausted to feel the pain in my chest, seemed to provide the only relief.
I had hoped a sparring session with Master Rua would help clear my mind.
‘You should talk to Alex,’ he said, giving me a knowing look. ‘They might be able to help you.’
I hauled myself back onto my feet, stretching from side to side to ease the pain. ‘You and I both know Preference Evolution will be no help to me.’
‘That’s not true. I’ve been watching them, and you, for some time now. You could help each other.’
A g
uy was walking out the door. I could see a pretty brunette waiting for him on the sidewalk and it made me think of … What was wrong with me? I couldn’t get Quentin out of my mind, even mid conversation.
It was just so hard knowing that he hated me.
I mean, I got it. I even understood it. I wasn’t sure what had finally tipped him off to me, if it had been the kiss, getting sprung by his father, or if after our fight on the drive back to my place he had finally decided I simply wasn’t a good person. He wasn’t turning on his Phera-tech so he obviously still believed there was a chance that he’d rate as a neg. I was tempted just to tell him the truth, let him go, but I wasn’t a fool. Now more than ever he was unpredictable.
No.
I had to show restraint if I wanted to have any hope of helping Dad. I would give Quentin what he thought was a permanent disruption at the end of this. Then he’d be free of me.
Maybe down the track I could even tell him everything. Maybe he’d even understand.
Or not.
Master Rua cleared his throat, clearly unhappy with my lack of attention.
‘How could we help each other?’ I asked, trying to stop my runaway mind. I was still unconvinced that Alex, the Pre-Evo front man, could do anything to aid my cause.
Master Rua shrugged lightly. ‘You need to do something that brings you balance. Your obsession has led you to do things you would not normally consider. Preference Evolution has access to resources that you don’t. They may be able to help you. And, if you worked with Alex, perhaps you could find a way to bring yourself some peace.’
It wasn’t as if I hadn’t looked into it before. But the resources Master Rua was referring to were seriously lacking. I was willing to bet I had a load more intel than Preference Evolution could ever dream of. Someday I planned to get it to them. But not yet. I shook my head. ‘I’m beginning to realise there will never be peace for someone like me.’
‘You should give Alex a chance to talk with you.’
‘No.’
He took my hands in his. It was a rare display of affection from the Muay Thai master. ‘He can be trusted.’
I shook my hands from his, taking up position again in the centre of the mat. ‘I said no.’
He sighed, realising I’d closed the conversation and expected another round. Instead of engaging me, he turned away and walked towards his office. ‘Get some sleep. You need that a whole lot more than training right now.’
‘Fine,’ I said, snatching up my bag. ‘I don’t need your help to train anyway!’ I cringed at my behaviour, hating that I’d let him – and Quentin – get to me like this.
He waved a hand in the air dismissively, but didn’t slow down. ‘No. You don’t need anyone’s help, Maggie.’
I tied my hair into a tight ponytail at the bus stop and rearranged the contents of my backpack. I hated disappointing Master Rua and his words had cut deep. Blinking a few times, I leaned my head against the wall and looked at the afternoon sky. I was dreading the night that lay ahead.
God, I was in way over my head. Gus had been right.
But there was no turning back now. Gus had downloaded enough content from the Mercer mainframe to give us a good lead on Dad’s whereabouts. He was alive. He had to be.
When Gus first told me, I’d felt so many mixed emotions, not least of which was the huge relief at knowing it hadn’t all been for nothing. I was going to find him.
Dad’s name had shown up in association with the main quadrant, which suggested he was, or had been, in a testing facility. My thoughts drifted to Sarah briefly and I wondered if she had been experimented on.
As much as I tried to ignore it, I knew there was a chance that my father had been tortured and changed. And I had seen that document – the one about ‘Population Control’. We weren’t able to find many details on it, but what we had found suggested it was some kind of way to use Phera-tech to control breeding in ‘undesirable’ zones. We needed more information, but I was sure whatever was to come, it was all bad. And considering what my father had been working on in those final months before he’d been taken, I couldn’t help but suspect it had something to do with why my father had suddenly turned neg three years ago.
I feared more than ever what they’d done to him.
Was there a chance they’d used Dad to develop more disruptions? It was too awful to consider, and I hadn’t dared voice my concerns to anyone else.
Dad had wanted to make a good contribution to the world. But I was beginning to believe they had taken my father for their own greed. For his disruption formula.
I had to get him out of there.
‘You planning to punch that thing all day, or we gonna go?’ Gus said, walking into my garage an hour after I’d arrived home. Sleep might’ve been what Master Rua thought was best, but I couldn’t afford the time.
I rolled my eyes and kicked the bag. ‘I still don’t see why I have to go,’ I said, concentrating on working my right leg, kicking high to strengthen the side that had been shot.
Gus leaned against the garage entrance. ‘What can I say? Kneeing a dude in the balls can do strange things to him. Travis has our goods and says he won’t deal with anyone but my ass-kicking bodyguard. Though he also made a point of saying if he got whiff of a Mercer he’d be extremely unhappy. And Mags, trust me when I say we might’ve one-upped him last time, but we do not want trouble with the likes of Travis. He has extremely nasty friends.’
No doubt. I knew we’d been lucky last time. I moved over to the small fridge that didn’t actually work but was still where I kept a few bottles of water and grabbed one. ‘Don’t worry. Quentin is done playing with the likes of us.’
‘You sure about that, Mags?’
I shot a look at him. ‘Yes.’
He shrugged. ‘Then why am I certain that when I pulled up, his car was pulling away from the kerb?’
My brow furrowed.
‘I take it he didn’t actually stop in?’ Gus continued.
I shook my head. ‘Why would he just be out there sitting in his car?’
Gus held out my towel. ‘If he’s anything like I was when you first started using me, he’s probably out there plotting your gruesome murder and where to hide the body. Mags, even for you, you’ve really done a number on him. The guy has to be messed up.’
I snatched the towel from him and headed upstairs. The worst part was, I agreed. And not just about Quentin, but about Gus too.
Gus followed me upstairs to wait while I showered and changed.
Tonight was mostly about a trade – we’d scored some extra intel from the mainframe download, like the whereabouts of a number of lust-enhancing labs. M-Corp might not support lust-enhancers outwardly, but that didn’t mean they were above producing and making a profit from them. It was sickening.
We were taking money zips to the trade just in case, but I hoped we wouldn’t need them. I wanted to leave as much money as I could with Mom. Just in case.
When I emerged from my bathroom in black jeans and a black tee, I sat at my desk and began restocking my backpack. I didn’t look over at Gus, who was sitting on my bed typing something into his phone, when I spoke.
‘Do you love Kelsey?’
I heard his sharp intake of breath. ‘How long have you known about her?’
‘Since your first date at Fitzpatrick’s,’ I answered. That date had been three months ago.
‘Guess I’m not really surprised.’ He gave another resigned sigh. ‘Yes. I think I might love her. Don’t bring her into this shit, Maggie. Please.’
I nodded, still focused on my pack, rewinding my rope so that it wouldn’t get tangled. ‘We’re done after this one, Gus.’
Gus half laughed. ‘You might not find him, Maggie.’
‘I know.’
Digesting what I was saying, Gus responded cautiously. ‘I won’t look back.’
‘I know.’
He waited for me to finally look at him, and when I did his eyes searched mine as only someone wh
o knows you well can.
I drew my hair back into a tight ponytail. ‘Get me though this one and we’re done. I give you my word.’
Slowly, Gus nodded and cleared his throat. ‘Well, it’s about fucking time.’
At that, I smiled. We weren’t friends, but I would miss him.
‘You know you could do with some help when you go down there,’ he said.
I snorted. ‘Are you offering?’
‘Never,’ he said with a smile. ‘But I know someone else who might be stupid enough to follow you into the depths of hell.’
My smile disappeared. ‘No,’ I said, ending the conversation.
‘One question then, Mags,’ Gus said.
‘Shoot,’ I replied. May as well.
‘If someone had a gun to your father’s head and another one pointed at Quentin’s and you could only save one of them, who would it be?’
Just the thought sent wracking shivers through my gut. ‘I … don’t … That’s a stupid question, Gus!’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘One that until lately, I was certain, no matter what or who was in the scenario, your father would be the answer.’ He took a deep breath and let it out. ‘It’s okay to care about him, Mags. It’s okay to want to be happy. And you can’t avoid him forever – you still need Mercer blood if you want to get in. Every member of that family was on the initial approved entry list.’
I clenched my jaw. Yes, I needed Quentin’s blood somehow. But the rest … I couldn’t deal with that right now. ‘I am going to be happy, Gus. My family will be back together and things will be the way they were supposed to be. Quentin is … He didn’t deserve to be caught up in this – but neither did we. I feel bad about what I’ve done, but … that’s all.’ I shut my mouth and bit my lips together from the inside.
‘Okay, Mags. Sure. You’re the boss.’
Twenty-two
Travis sent us on a wild goose chase. No surprise there, but even I hadn’t expected to find myself trekking through scrublands and dodging the marshes on Theodore Roosevelt Island at midnight.
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