ReBoot (MAC Security Series Book 4)

by Abigail Davies

  “No, it wasn’t.” I smile at her and look around at all of the houses that look like something out of a movie. The kind of houses they only have in those small towns, the one’s filled with people who have loving families and haven’t known real hardship, who know who everyone is and what everyone does.

  I know that sounds judgmental, but when you’ve been through what I have, you can’t help but look from the outside in and judge what you think are their perfect lives.

  In reality, I know that’s not true. Nobody knows what happens behind closed doors: the secrets that are kept.

  “Well well well, if it isn’t my favorite old lady.” My head whips to the side at the deep voice behind us and I gasp, causing his attention to turn to me. His brown eyes narrow, but not in a bad way, more of a “who are you,” kind of way.

  “Malcolm,” Livvy greets the man.

  My eyes assess him as my gaze runs up and down him: a pair of light-blue jeans covering his legs with holes at the knees—not the fashionable kind, but the kind that have been made from working. My gaze trails past his legs and up to the white t-shirt that grips his body like a second skin with compost stains on the front and down his muscular arms, to the gardening gloves he wears.

  “Who’s the new lady?” he asks, bringing my attention back to his face. His eyes twinkle with laughter and the kind smile on his face lets me know that he’s harmless which allows me to breathe easier.

  “This is my new lodger, Lexi.”

  I offer a wave, thankful that she used my nickname and not my full name.

  “Well… nice to meet you, Lexi.” He pulls his gloves off and swipes his hand through his salt and pepper hair, the strands not staying in place, springing back over his forehead and eyes. “You ever get fed up with this old lady, you come on over and visit me and Cal.”

  “Erm…” I bite my lip, moving my gaze from him to Livvy who has a big smile lifting up her lips.

  “Stop trying to scare her away, you big meanie.” She taps him on the shoulder before putting her arm back through mine. “Sunday drinks?”

  “You betcha!” He winks and waves before turning around, putting his gloves back on and kneeling down, proceeding to pull weeds out of his flower bed.

  “Sunday drinks?” I ask when we’re a few meters down from his house and nearly back at Livvy’s.

  “Yep!” She winks at me. “Every Sunday I have Mal and Cal around—” I snicker at the sound of their names together like that. “Yeah, I know… talk about matching names.” She chuckles with me and continues to tell me that when they first moved into the area that they weren’t freely accepted: two men who were living as life partners didn’t go down well in a community like this, so she welcomed them in with open arms and the tradition of “Sunday drinks and nibbles” came about.

  “You’ll love them! I promise. Mal is more of a free spirit, he’s an environmentalist, whereas Cal is the suit type. He’s a big-shot lawyer in the city, complete with a broody face.” She waves her hand in the air as we make it to the bottom of her path. My throat dries at the thought of being so close to a lawyer but she doesn’t notice as she continues on. “He’s a little harder to crack through, but once you have, you become family to him.”

  “I—”

  “Oh shucks! Look at the time!” Her eyes widen when she looks up from her watch. “Let’s get you in and fed before your shift starts. It’s at six, right?”

  I’m glad for the change of subject; I could feel myself getting inside my own head, and right now, that’s a dangerous place to be. I’m an over thinker: I think things to death. Sometimes it’s a good thing, most of the time, not so much.

  “Yep.” I smile, a bounce in my step as I walk into the house behind Livvy. This will be my first proper job—if I don’t count the jobs in prison, which I’m definitely not. I’d rather forget everything about that place.

  Even though I met Roy—the man who runs the community center—a couple of days ago, it still doesn’t ease any of my nerves as I make my way there. I’ve timed the walk several times over the last couple of days: twelve minutes.

  Those twelve minutes today seem like they go by way too fast but way too slow all at the same time. By the time I come to a stop at the edge of the grass that sits out front of the community center, my hands are shaking with nerves.

  It’s just a job.

  But it doesn’t matter how many times I say the same thing to myself: it doesn’t make any difference. I’m twenty minutes early; why oh why did I leave so early when I knew how long it would take to walk here?

  I shake my head at myself as I decide to sit on the wooden bench that’s on the grass. I need to pull myself together; gather my thoughts and push them all down—lock them away.

  My leg bobs up and down as I watch some kids come out of the center, a man following behind and piling them into a van with the community center logo on the side. I watch their smiles as they all put their belts on, the laughter filling the air before he pulls away from the curb, letting the silence fall over me again.

  I take a moment to have a good look around. The last few days, I’ve been so focused on being prepared and ready that I didn’t allow myself to take it all in.

  The center sits opposite the police precinct—if that isn’t a bad omen, then I don’t know what is.

  I’m not doing anything wrong, I know this, but I’m a criminal. It doesn’t matter what I did and the reasons behind it, I’m still a criminal on paper.

  I shake my head at myself and close my eyes. I’m here to start fresh, to make a life for myself, not live in the past; but it’s so hard not to.

  “Alexis?” I jump at the sound of the rough voice. My eyes spring open and I look up at Roy. He stands with his hands on his hips, a set of coveralls covered in paint—no doubt from years worth of DIYing.

  “Hi!” I squeak far too loud, cringing at myself. “Sit… bench.” I point to the bench and squeeze my eyes shut. “I just…” I take a breath, centering myself. “Needed a minute.”

  “It’s okay, lady. You don’t start for another five minutes, I think this old man could do with a five-minute rest to be honest.”

  He sits down next to me, staring up at the sky that is starting to darken, not saying a word. It’s a comfortable silence and I find myself relaxing in his company.

  “Did you look over your duties?” I nod my head and pull the three pieces of paper out of my bag, holding them up.

  “I did, I made sure to study it. I know everything that is expected of me, sir. I won’t let you down, I promise.”

  His eyes move to mine—the only part of his body that moves. “I know you will. I knew it the first time I looked into your eyes. I don’t know what got you to the place you’re at now, but I know an honest person when I see one.” My mouth opens and closes, not knowing what to say back to him, but he doesn’t wait for an answer as he stands up and holds his arm out. “Let’s get you set up and put you to work.”

  I push the papers back into my bag, rushing to follow him and nearly tripping over my own two feet in the process.

  He leads me into his office that sits behind the front desk where he says I can keep my things while I work my shift, then has me sign a load of documents that I don’t really read before he hands me a set of keys. The room is full of boxes and paperwork, so much so that you can hardly get inside. I make a mental note to tackle this room first.

  “You need to be here six nights a week, alternating Saturdays and Sundays.”

  “Okay.”

  “You’ll clean the place up and be available for the people who rent the rooms if there are any problems.” He points to a board that has papers clipped to it. “My number is on the board over there.” I nod. “You lock up when all classes have finished and everything on our daily list is done. There’s two doors out back and the main doors, as well as all of the windows.” I concentrate really hard as he throws all of this information at me. “You’ll need to put the alarm on as you leave: this is the code.�
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  He hands me a piece of paper as he walks from behind the front desk and waves his arm at me as he walks toward a room.

  I follow as he opens the door. “This is one of the main rooms.” I step into the room; my eyes immediately being drawn to the mirrors that line one whole wall. A ballet bar sits in front of half of it and as I step farther inside, I realize that the wooden floor is a dance floor as it has a slight spring to it.

  I spin around, walking out of the room behind Roy before he points to a door next to the room and opens it, showing me a small storage space. “This is where all of the equipment is kept.”

  He shuts the door and continues walking farther into the center and toward the stairs at the back. “Kitchen.” He stops as I have a quick look inside the smallish space. “We have cooking classes and things like that, also fun days which I’ll expect you to come and help run and make food and the likes for.”

  “Of course,” I reply, my gaze landing on the stairs opposite the kitchen.

  He goes up them slowly, me following on his heels, trying to soak in all of the information he’s providing me with. I should have brought a notepad and pen.

  “Two more rooms up here, although they’re only used until eight most weeknights, so when they’re empty, you can come up here and clean before going downstairs and doing the same.”

  He spins around once I’ve had a look in both rooms: they’re pretty much identical, both floors covered with dark-brown carpet, tables and chairs stacked off into the back of each room, and a bathroom on this floor as well as the one next to the kitchen.

  “The room downstairs is used three nights a week until eleven, all of the other nights it’s used until ten.”

  “Okay,” I say, not knowing what else to say.

  He walks back down the stairs, telling me that the room downstairs has to be mopped every night and the mirrors cleaned.

  Finally, once we’re back behind the front desk, he starts to take off his coveralls as the main door opens and in walks a group of girls, all in uniforms for what looks like Girl Scouts, but I could be wrong because I never did any clubs as a kid.

  “Evening, ladies,” Roy announces. They all greet him back before giggling and running toward the stairs. “Walking!” Roy shouts, his lips spread into a grin as he shakes his head affectionately. “Girl Scouts is every Tuesday until eight,” he tells me.

  “Got it.”

  “Right…” He looks at me. “Are you ready for your first shift?”

  “I… I think so.”

  “Don’t worry, you have any problems then you give me a call.”

  “I will,” I say, smiling softly as he grabs his coat and keys.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I nod my head in reply and watch as he walks out the main doors, the breath leaving my body as I look all around me.

  I know I can do this, it’s simple really, but I didn’t think I’d be given such responsibility; at least not right away.

  I loosen the grip I have on the keys that Roy gave me, slipping them into the front pocket of my jeans as I walk into his office and take my jacket off, deciding that the first thing I need to do is move all of these boxes to the corner of his office instead of them sitting in the middle of the floor.

  “Hey.” I push up off the side of my car that I’m leaning against as Geena comes out of the precinct, shouldering her bag and walking toward me with measured steps.

  “At least you remembered this time,” she snips as she gets closer to me, her brow raised.

  I ignore the comment, knowing better than to argue with her because it gets us nowhere, she ultimately wins each and every time. Instead, I open my arms for her but she hesitates. We haven’t talked since she drove off the compound a few days ago, and it’s not through lack of trying on my part either.

  “I’m sorry,” I sigh. “It’s my fault, I should’ve set an alarm.”

  Her eyes flick between mine before she visibly softens and walks into my arms. I wrap them around her, breathing her in and closing my eyes.

  We’ve been together for a couple of years now, but I don’t think I’m actually any closer to her than I was back when we first started dating. I know she’s the kind of woman who likes to hold her cards close to her chest, but she doesn’t just hold them, she clutches them like they’re her lifeline.

  About twelve months ago, I told her I wanted a break, that things were getting on top of me, stressing me out. I’ve always found it hard to trust people—especially women—but she shot me down. What I expected her to say was definitely not what came from her mouth.

  “No one else will ever want you, Evan. Look at you, you’re a geek who basically lives in one room. You want to take a break? I won’t be here when you decide that I’m the best woman you’ll ever be able to find.”

  I cringe as her words echo in my head. The sad fact is, she’s right. No one would ever want me.

  I’m a broken nerd. Much preferring to live in the code that I write and through the devices or surveillance equipment that I make. I know that no one else would put up with me and all of my quirks. So I stay, knowing that without Geena, I’d be just another single geek.

  At least this way I have someone.

  “Are we going out?” she asks, although I know by the tone of the question that she’s telling me we’re going out, not asking me.

  “Yeah,” I reply, pulling back and pressing the fob on my keys to unlock my car. “Where would you like to go?”

  “Hmmm…” I pull the passenger door open for her.

  “What about Barney’s?” I suggest.

  Her face screws up, her mouth flattening into a grim line. “I hate that place.”

  I take a breath, trying my hardest to sound gentle. “It’s the only place that will still be open.”

  “Ugh!” She practically stomps her foot. “Fine.”

  I watch her get in the car before closing the door behind her and walking around to climb into the driver’s side.

  “I don’t know why you didn’t use my car, I hate yours.” She pouts as she turns to face me. “You know how the leather seats make me sweat.”

  I swallow and nod, not wanting to say anything to set her off.

  I love my car; the burnt orange paint job is custom and so are the black rims that are on my tires. I saved up since I was thirteen years old, working jobs outside of school and then selling code and also working as a game tester in my spare time. All of the hard work that went into buying this car and making it into what I wanted. The seats are custom made, an E for Evan and an L for Lockwood intertwined and sewn into the black leather with red thread.

  I pull out of the precinct and make the five-minute drive in silence, not daring to put the radio on and disturb her as she relaxes after her six-hour shift.

  “Park at the back,” she commands, her eyes closed, but I ignore her. There’s no way in hell that I’m parking my car at the back of the lot. It doesn’t matter how much extra security I’ve built into this car, making it practically impossible to break into, I’m still not risking it.

  I pull into the first space that I see closest to the door.

  She opens her eyes, sitting forward before she warns, “Evan.”

  I take a deep breath, turning to face her. “I’m not parking it at the back. It’s my car and I can park where I like.”

  Geena’s eyes widen as she stares at me, her features screwing up before she puffs out a breath. “I can’t believe this, you’re just trying to upset me. I’ve been at work all day and all I wanted was a nice quiet meal before I go home and sleep.”

  “Geena,” I whisper, laying my hand on her arm to stop her from exiting the car as she pushes the door open. “This car means a lot to me, I don’t want to risk it being stolen.”

  “Anyone would be stupid to try and steal it. I mean, it’s not very inconspicuous, Evan.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” I shake my head and let her arm go, pulling my keys from the ignition and pushing my own door
open before I step out of the car, effectively ending the argument.

  She whizzes past me, opening the door to Barney’s, not bothering to wait for me as she does.

  I step inside after her, the loud chatter and the smell of the wood, ribs, and beer permeating the air bringing a smile to my face. I’ve been coming to Barney’s since I was a kid. Dad and Pop used to bring me here when it was family hours. I love how the place caters to all kinds of people. Between the hours of four and seven anyone is welcome, but as soon as the clock strikes seven, it’s a strict over-twenty-one-only policy.

  “Evan!” Barney Junior calls. “Long time no see!”

  I shake my head and chuckle as I walk up to the pine wooden bar that he stands behind—a bar that his dad, Barney Senior, made with his bare hands. “I was here three days ago.”

  “Like I said.” He smirks. “Long time no see. You eating or just drinking?”

  I search the place for Geena, finally catching sight of her in a booth toward the back. “Eating,” I reply, tilting my head to Geena. “I better get over there.”

  He holds his fist out and I bump mine against his before spinning around and making my way over to Geena.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers, clutching the napkin in her hands. “It’s just you know how much I hate your car and it feels like you do it on purpose sometimes.”

  “I don’t,” I say, sitting down on the dark red, leather-covered booth seat. “I honestly didn’t think about it.”

  “You don’t ever think,” she whispers, but it’s not a soft whisper, it’s a “you know exactly what you’re doing” whisper.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing.” She smiles, but it’s too late, I heard what she said loud and clear. I feel like I have a giant ball in my stomach, the atmosphere around us becoming tenser with every second that passes.

  I lean back in the booth, fiddling with my own napkin until Barney’s wife, Mel, comes over and asks what we want to order. I tell her I’ll take the burger special and Geena orders the same.