Strength (Mark of Nexus #1)

by Carrie Butler

  “Okay, first off,” I began, ticking points off on my fingers. “I don’t like the way you said sweatpants. Second, they’re not sweatpants. They’re yoga pants.” I kicked my favorite pair of sneakers under the bed. “Third, there’d be nothing wrong with them if they were sweatpants.”

  There was an awkward pause, as if she were trying to digest my words. “And you think these”—she wrinkled her nose in disgust—“yoga pants attract men?”

  I rolled my eyes, collapsing back onto my bed. “Believe it or not, I’m not trying to attract men.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I wanted them back. Swearing off men wasn’t the most effective argument against your bisexual roommate.

  A wide grin pulled at her features. “That explains the sweatpants.”

  “Shut up!” I covered my face with a pillow. “You know what I meant.”

  She burst out laughing, and I groaned.

  “C’mon, girl. You’ll like playing for both teams.”

  I flung the pillow across the room. “Gabriela Felicia Hernandez!”

  She cackled, ducking her head down. “Calm down. You sound like my mother.”

  Hardly. In the two and a half years we’ve lived together, I’ve only been around her mother twice. She’s a sweet woman, but her accent is thick and she talks eighty miles an hour. I couldn’t imitate her on my best day.

  A sudden song clip broke the silence, and Gabby leaned over to grab her phone off her desk. “Hold that thought. Aiden’s calling.”

  I felt my lips twitch as she brought the phone to her ear. It was funny how close the three of us had become over the years—especially those two.

  When we first met Aiden, freshman year, he was this hopeless nerd with a shock of copper hair and thick, black glasses. Back then, people in my English comp. class would make jokes about him—the cruel, obvious-to-everyone-but-him kind—and I kind of snapped. So the guy had a laugh like a chain-smoking horse—it wasn’t his fault. The details are hazy, and I don’t remember who set me off, but I ended up bitching out the whole class.

  That was the week our professor suggested I try independent studies.

  It was worth it, though. Aiden gathered his nerve and brought me his lecture notes as a thank you. I invited him in, introduced him to Gabby, and we’ve all been friends ever since.

  “Mhm. Mhm. Okay, we’ll see you then.” She hung up before I could process the time lapse. “He’s unpacked.”

  I sat up. “Did he sound excited?”

  “Girl, please. He’s probably spent all morning sharpening his number two pencils for Monday.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh as I pictured it. Aiden loves school. I mean loves it. The start of a semester, for him, is like the end of a semester for everyone else.

  “I told him we’d meet near the parking deck in ten, so we can go to lunch.” She tossed the magazine aside and leaned forward. “Now tell me about this guy.”

  Ugh. I should’ve known she wouldn’t let that little detail slip. Before I could rethink my exit strategy, I lunged for the door.

  “Later. I have to pee!” Pee, of course, meant hide in the bathroom until it was time to go.

  “Don’t think I’m gonna forget about it, Ree,” she bellowed as I shut the door. “You owe me details at lunch!”

  Yep, the semester was off to a great start already.

  Chapter Two

  Sam’s Diner was packed and alive with ambient chatter. I guess I should’ve expected that, since the dining hall wouldn’t reopen until Monday. That only left a handful of restaurants down Green Avenue, and Sam’s is the best. To us, anyway. We can’t afford much else.

  The place is a time warp to an era with gingham curtains and Formica countertops. We love it, and fortunately for us, Sam loves us, too. He managed to get us into our usual booth in the back—the one closest to the kitchen and all of its greasy, tantalizing aromas. Some days I want to live there.

  Sam is a big guy in his mid-fifties, with a potbelly that stretches his apron so tight it’s a wonder it hasn’t busted any seams. Aiden’s convinced he used to be a mafia hit man. There’s no evidence to support this, but I’m afraid to speculate one way or the other. What the man did in the past is his own business. I’m content to remain oblivious.

  I shuddered and took a swig of my water.

  Aiden peered across the table as he squirted hand sanitizer into his palm. “Rena, you look pale. Do you feel okay?”

  “This, coming from Casper’s understudy,” Gabby muttered, smacking the bottom of the ketchup bottle. A red, smeary blob made its way down the side, and we all watched with mild interest.

  “I’m fine,” I said, turning back to Aiden. “I just skipped breakfast.”

  He shrugged, rubbing the clear, goopy mess into his hands. “If you say so.”

  Gabby gave the bottle a final pump before she set it off to the side with a huff. “Aiden, you smell like a hospital. Put that shit away.”

  I snickered. If there were two people I could count on for a distraction, it was these two. More than an hour had passed since the hallway incident, but I still couldn’t get it out of my mind. Why did the thought of that guy make me so uneasy?

  I picked at my French fries and stole a glance across the table. Maybe I’d bring it up. Hashing it out would help the memory fade, and I could just play it off as idle curiosity—which it was, mostly.

  Aiden was busy wiping his silverware with a napkin.

  Gabby must’ve caught my line of vision because she looked, too. “Sam’s going to be mad if he sees you doing that.”

  His eyes widened, and he sank down in his seat. “Shh! I saw a water spot.”

  “Uh huh.” She rolled her eyes and bit into an onion ring. “Tell him that.”

  “Shut up, Gabby! He’ll hear you.”

  I laughed at the rosy circles brightening his cheeks, and my phone rang. I dug it out and glanced at the caller ID. Huh. That’s a Cleveland area code. I hit the green button as I brought the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

  “Good afternoon, Ms. Collins,” a woman said in a pleasant tone. “I’m calling on behalf of R.S. Tobler Laboratories.”

  I must’ve made a face, because I found myself staring down two curious expressions across the table. “Okay?”

  “We’re contacting area college students about our influenza vaccine program. There are two free events coming up in—”

  My spine straightened with indignation. “You called my cell phone to tell me that?”

  “It might be the only way to protect yourself, Ms. Collins. And those you love.”

  I gritted my teeth. “Sorry. Not interested.” And with that, I hung up. Gabby and Aiden continued to stare.

  “The stupid school must be selling our numbers,” I grumbled and slid my phone back into my pocket. “Have you guys gotten any calls about flu shots?”

  Aiden shook his head. “No, but I’ve already had mine.”

  “Shocking,” Gabby said with a grin. “You? Hide from germs?”

  “You had one, too!”

  She scoffed. “For my program.”

  Oh God. I needed to change the subject before they wandered down that path again. “So, who was that guy who came to see you this morning, Aiden?”

  “What do you mean?” He tilted his head to the side. “Nobody came to see me this morning.”

  Was he on crack? “I...thought I saw a guy leave your suite.”

  “Are you sure it was mine?”

  I shrugged, flinching at the dull ache that’d settled around my shoulders. “Pretty sure.”

  He paused, fork in hand. “What did he look like?”

  “Uh, tall, dark hair, blue eyes...” Menacing, intense, devastatingly handsome.

  Aiden slapped his hands down on the table, nearly lunging over the top. “That was Wallace, Rena.” His eyes looked like they were about to bulge out from behind his lenses. “Wallace!”

  My heart stopped.

  “What?” I froze with a fry halfway to my mouth. “What do
you mean?”

  Gabby leaned toward me. “You saw the seventh-floor psycho, and you didn’t tell me?”

  “No,” I snapped, before I realized what I was saying. “I mean, yes, I saw him, but I don’t think he was a psycho. I don’t know.” I fixed my bewildered gaze on Aiden. “Is he?”

  He looked taken aback. “How would I know?”

  “You’re his suitemate. You share a bathroom with him.” My anxiety began to bubble over. “Does he hide bodies in the shower? Has he ever been escorted out in handcuffs? Think. Do you even talk to the guy?”

  Hot Guy couldn’t have been Wallace. There was no way.

  They both stared at me.

  “What?”

  Gabby was the first to recover, patting my arm. “You’re kind of freakin’ out, girl.”

  “I am not.”

  Aiden adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. “To answer your questions—no.”

  My heart was racing. I felt like a detective who’d just stumbled over a lead. Why it mattered to me, I didn’t know, but I was going to find out. “Why don’t you talk to him?”

  He blinked. “You know why. Believe me, if you had to hear the things I hear every night, you wouldn’t talk to him either.”

  “So, what? You just ignore him?”

  “Why are you so interested?” Gabby cut in, looking at me as if I had grown two heads.

  “I’m not interested. I’m just curious.” I sighed. “Can’t I be curious?”

  “I don’t ignore him,” Aiden continued, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, if I see him at the sink in the morning, I give him a nod or say ‘hey’. Then I just find a reason to leave.”

  “Why?”

  “Rena! Geez.” Gabby shook her head. “Give the boy a break. What’s your fascination with the psy—er, what’s his name?”

  “Wallace,” Aiden and I answered in unison.

  She gave us a look and took a sip of her Diet Coke. “Whatever. I think we should just stay away from him. The guy is dangerous.”

  “Fine.” I wasn’t going to tell them the rest of the story. The way they were talking, they’d probably have me report it to the school, and what complaint would I give them? That he’d activated my girl parts? It was best to just drop it.

  “Hey, I got it!” Gabby straightened in her seat, inspiration lighting her features. “Maybe he’s a nymphomaniac.”

  So much for dropping it.

  I looked down at the table and pinched the bridge of my nose. “And what makes you say that?”

  “Aiden’s always hearing muffled screams and growls, right? That’s rough sex. And you know how he rarely leaves his room? Solo sex! Duh.”

  A queasy feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. The thought of Wallace being a sex fiend was even more horrifying than the thought of him being a psychopath. “Okay, nobody calls that solo sex, and it doesn’t matter, anyway. It’s none of our business.”

  Aiden turned to Gabby, fighting another blush. “I don’t think he’s a...a what-you-said, anyway. I’ve never seen him bring anyone back to his room.”

  Gabby’s eyes widened until I thought they were going to pop their sockets.

  “Oh my gosh! What if he’s got them chained up in there?” Her hand flew to her mouth, as if she were really considering it.

  “Them?” I asked, already cringing.

  “The girls he’s sneaking in there. Or the guys. What if he’s forcing them to act as sex slaves?” Gabby started fanning herself with a napkin. “Girl, Aiden will just have to come to us. We’re not wanderin’ around up there anymore.”

  I let out a deep breath. “Gabby, he honestly didn’t seem like a sex offender.”

  Oops.

  Her motions ceased, and she turned to face me. “How would you know? I thought you just caught a glimpse of him in the hallway.”

  “I did.” The corners of my mouth pulled back in a grimace. “It was just kind of close up.”

  Neither of them said anything, waiting for me to continue. Sigh. “Okay, I ran smack into the guy, and he caught me.”

  “What?” Aiden looked aghast. “You let him touch you?”

  “Is that what I said?” I pursed my lips. “He caught me when I lost my balance. It’s not like I asked him to grab me.”

  “Oh my gosh, Rena!” Gabby’s eyes were as wide as saucers. “Was he creepy? Do you think you’re his next victim? Does he know where we live?”

  I took another deep breath before answering, hoping to soothe my frazzled nerves. “He wasn’t exactly creepy, but I was definitely scared for a second. I guess he’s just kind of...”

  “Intimidating?” Aiden offered in a dry tone.

  “Yeah.” I shot him a look, wondering where this attitude was coming from. “He was big and intimidating.” I turned back to Gabby. “I doubt he knows where we live, and I have no intentions of becoming a victim, okay?”

  She looked uncomfortable, but nodded anyway. The situation had been blown out of proportion, but there was nothing I could do about it now. Maybe if I stayed away from the seventh floor, I wouldn’t have to worry about it. I mean, I went a whole semester without running into the guy. What were the odds I’d ever see him again? As far as I was concerned, the whole thing was over. Done.

  Chapter Three

  That night, I awoke to a blaring alarm. I threw back the covers and gritted my teeth. “I hate people!”—a pretty routine reaction, considering Reid has more fire alarms than any other dorm on campus. Somehow we ended up with all of the drunk, immature pranksters this year. Lucky us.

  Gabby cursed for a solid twenty seconds as she rolled out of bed, shielding her eyes. At least, I assumed she was cursing. It was all in Spanish and could’ve been part of a song, for all I knew.

  A flashing light seared my retinas as I fumbled around. How photosensitive epileptics made it outside, I’d never know. It was something I’d have to ponder when the alarm wasn’t threatening to shatter my eardrums.

  I got up, shoved my socked feet into sneakers, and dropped my lanyard around my neck. We had the heat cranked up in our room, so I’d been sleeping in a black tank top and cartoon pajama pants. That’d go over really well outside.

  I stumbled toward my wardrobe, flung the doors open, and grabbed the first hooded sweatshirt I saw. “C’mon!” I yelled over the alarm, making a break for the door.

  The strobe continued to flicker as Gabby hurried across the room in incongruous, slow motion. “This sucks.”

  “I know.” I jerked on the handle and propped the door open with my shoulder. “Go.”

  Ow. Before this door kills me.

  She muttered something and shoved the suite door back, before rushing to join the disheveled herd of coeds at the end of the hall. Our Resident Assistant, Jane, was barking orders and ushering everyone toward the exit with a clipboard-turned-cattle-prod. “Come on, people!”

  I wanted to punch whoever pulled the alarm.

  We crowded down the narrow stairwell, our grumbles echoing off the walls. At each floor’s landing, more people flooded the stairs, and everyone struggled to make room. God forbid we ever had a real emergency. We’d all die.

  By the time we got to the lobby, I was sweating. I would’ve liked to have blamed the cramped passage, but the physical exertion probably had something to do with it. There was no need to bother with the sweatshirt. I was burning up.

  Gabby caught the door, and I was right behind her. The winter air felt crisp, almost damp—a nice little wakeup call from Mother Nature. Too bad my own mother would’ve had my head, had she known I was outside in a tank top.

  We followed the mass of people toward the parking lot and stopped beneath one of the street lights. Sirens screamed in the distance, but nobody seemed to notice. The whole thing had become standard procedure.

  “Oh my gosh, Rena!” Gabby jerked me to the side.

  “What?”

  She lifted my arm with disbelief written all over her face. “Are these bruises?”

  I blinked.
Sure enough, there were markings around the sorest part of my shoulder.

  “I don’t know.” A stupid response, but I really couldn’t remember seeing them before. They weren’t there when I showered this morning.

  Her eyes widened, and she stepped around me. “Girl, what the hell have you been doing? They’re on the other side, too!”

  Okay, that was just weird. Faint, purplish blotches marked both shoulders, with five distinctive spots on each arm. They almost looked like—

  “Are those handprints?” she shrieked, and a few guys turned around to look at us.

  I felt my face heat up. She was going to make people think I was abused or something. How the hell was I supposed to know what’d happened to my arms?

  “Rena?”

  I looked up and spotted Aiden and his roommate, Josh, walking toward us. Aiden, I should’ve picked out right away, but Josh blends in with a crowd—light brown hair, hazel eyes, and skin like a humanoid chameleon. The boy just isn’t memorable.

  Forcing a smile, I gave a quick little finger-wave. “Hey.”

  Oh crap. They were closing in, and Aiden’s eyes hadn’t left my shoulders. How was I supposed to explain the bruising? Knowing him, he’d want a whole dissertation on the subject.

  Without a plan in mind, I threw the sweatshirt over my head and backed toward the nearest escape route. “Um...sorry, guys. I think I, uh, see someone I know. I’ll catch up with you in a minute.”

  I spun on my heel and swallowed the guilt forming in my throat. Since when did I run from my friends? I jerked my arms through the sleeves. And why did I feel so damn claustrophobic, all of the sudden?

  The influx of nervous energy propelled my feet into motion, and I broke through the crowd—making for the birch tree at the edge of the lot.

  “Are you okay?”

  My heart kick-started a wild rhythm as I whirled around. One hand automatically shot up to block my face, and the other fisted tightly. “W-What?”

  “Whoa, whoa.” Hot Guy—I mean, Wallace—lifted both palms in defense, gesturing he meant no harm. “I wasn’t trying to sneak up on you.”