Strength (Mark of Nexus #1)

by Carrie Butler

“I do say so.” I put my hands on my hips. “And that’s it.”

  That wasn’t it.

  When I showered the next morning, I found bruises along the side of my leg—bruises I had no choice but to ignore, unless I wanted to hear more conspiracy theories. Maybe I had thin blood.

  Or maybe not. But damn those things were sore.

  Over the next few days, the bruises faded, and as they did, so did their implications. School was in full gear, and my professors weren’t pulling any punches. Apparently, meeting once or twice a week, for fifteen weeks, wasn’t enough time to get the gist of an overpriced textbook. My workload doubled.

  Thursday night found me seated at my desk, warmed by the unnatural heat of my lamp, and sifting through a mound of assignments. Blech. Why did social work always seem so boring on paper?

  I glanced at the clock. It wasn’t even seven yet, and Gabby was already starting to lose her attention span. Her nails tapped against her desk as she waited for something to load on her laptop. After a minute, she started rocking back and forth.

  “Problem?” I didn’t bother looking up. If I did, we’d get derailed, and the whole night would be lost. All it took was a few shared looks of exasperation for us to indulge in a little distraction. Hell, all I’d done was ask about dinner last night, and we ended up absorbed in some marathon on Bravo.

  “I have to look up boring stuff for this paper.”

  I shot her a sideways glance. “Boring medical stuff?”

  She nodded.

  “The stuff you’ve chosen to spend your life studying?”

  Again, she nodded.

  I closed my eyes for a moment and took a deep breath before I turned to look at her. “Three years in. It’s not too late to jump ship.”

  She scoffed. We’d had this discussion before. In fact, we had this discussion every time she commented on the bland nature of her work. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why she kept going through the charade.

  “I like helping people,” she explained.

  “Do you?”

  “Sort of.”

  I dropped my head and let out a slow breath. “Gabby, you can’t follow a career path just because your parents want you to.”

  “Why not? They’re paying for it, and I will—”

  “Uggggh.” A familiar heat crept up the back of my neck. The girl was living off an umbilical cord made of money. Didn’t she see how easily that could turn into a noose?

  Okay, so maybe my resentment had a little to do with the student loans I had piling up. “Sorry,” I mumbled. “Reflex.”

  She sat there, tight-lipped for a moment. “Uh huh.”

  “Seriously, though. You can’t keep this up forever. You’ll end up unhappy.”

  “Not when I’m rolling around in cash.”

  “Until it’s time to pay your insurance, Doctor Hernandez.” I poked my tongue out to show my maturity.

  “Just you wai—”

  My phone lit up and started vibrating against the desk. I grabbed it and read the caller ID

  “Aiden?” Gabby guessed, glancing at the clock.

  I shook my head. “No clue.” Punching the green button, I put the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

  “Hey,” a low voice answered. “Finally made it down here.”

  My heart rate spiked. Whoever the man was, he sounded half serial killer, half phone sex operator. I didn’t know what to do with either. “Sorry, who is this?”

  There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Wallace?”

  My eyes grew wide. “Oh! I’m sorry. I just…” Thoughts started fragmenting in my mind, as I struggled to play off my idiocy. “I didn’t think…” I shook my head so hard, a few tendrils fell loose of my bun. “I’ll be right down.”

  “All right. I’ll catch you in a few.”

  “Okay. Bye.” I pushed the red button a few times to make sure the phone was off. Why, oh why, did I always have to sound so stupid when I talked to him?

  Gabby quirked an eyebrow. “Who was it?”

  I pocketed the phone and stood up to straighten my shirt. “Wallace. We’re going to do laundry.”

  Before she could say anything, I went for my basket of dirty clothes.

  “Wait. What?” She followed me across the room. “He has your number? You’re doing laundry together? When did this happen?”

  I hefted the basket and balanced it on one hip. My laundry provisions made the thing feel like a freakin’ boulder. “I told him to give me a call so I could give him his clothes back.”

  “Uh huh.” A wry smile twisted her lips as I moved toward the door. “Ya know, I have some laundry to do, too.”

  “Go for it,” I said, wishing the opposite. It wasn’t that I wanted to be alone with him. I was just leery of letting her anywhere near the guy.

  “Good! It’s all settled.”

  Shoot me.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Hey, Wallace!” Gabby called, bouncing into the laundry room. She set her basket down on the bench and rubbed her bicep. “Whew! Heavy stuff.”

  He was leaning against a line of washers with his load already circling in the window behind him. “Hey…” He flicked a quick glance between us. “Gabriela, was it?”

  “Gabby,” she purred, flashing him a smile. “Sorry about the other night. You must think I’m awful.”

  I nearly snorted, dropping my basket to the floor. Her acting was pretty awful. As I rooted around for my quarters, I made an effort not to watch them.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said.

  “Aww, what a nice guy!” If I knew Gabby, she was clutching a hand to her heart right about now.

  My eye twitched as I jerked the nearest washer door open and crammed my coins into the slot on the front of the machine. Was she really going to flirt with him in front of me? I twisted a knob, pushed a button, and listened for the sound of spraying water. She had to be kidding me.

  The hairs on the back of my neck rose, and I could feel one, or both, of them watching me. I quickly dumped in a cap full of detergent and tossed a color-catching sheet inside. With nothing short of reckless abandon, I began to throw clothes into the basin.

  Gabby sidled up beside me, oblivious. “Can I bum some detergent?”

  I picked up the bottle and thrust it aside, doing my best to avoid eye contact as I finished loading the washer.

  “Thanks.” She took it, and I bumped the door shut with my other arm.

  “I can’t believe people leave these things unattended,” Wallace commented.

  I looked up, forgetting my vow. Sure enough, several washers and dryers were running with no attendants. “That’s a good way to get your clothes strewn everywhere.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed.

  Gabby finished loading her washer and returned the bottle to my basket. “Well, it’s Thursday. The basement is normally a ghost town at this time of night. They probably figured it’d be okay. I would.”

  “No doubt in my mind about that one.” Oops. I’d ventured into the conversation. It was too late to act aloof and read my magazine.

  Gabby plopped down on the dingy tile floor without any reservations about its state of cleanliness. For a rich kid, she wasn’t all that fussy. “So, what do we want to do to pass the time? Oh, oh, oh! We should play a game.”

  I shot Wallace an apologetic look as I sat on the bench and pulled my legs up.

  She must’ve taken our silence as consent. “Okay! Let’s go around and say one random thing about ourselves. I’ll start. Hmmm…” She tapped her chin and looked up at the ceiling. “Okay, I don’t like spicy food.”

  Neither of us said anything.

  “And I’m Mexican,” she continued with a knowing grin. “Wrap your head around that one. Okay, you go, Ree.”

  I gave her a blank stare—half for the deliberate abuse of stereotypes and half for starting the stupid game to begin with. “I don’t have anything.”

  “Aww, c’mon! It’s fun. What else do you have to do right now
?”

  I said nothing.

  She crossed her arms. “Fine, I’ll go for you.” She straightened her posture and turned toward Wallace. “Rena has a poster of a bunch of big, sweaty men beside her bed.”

  He raised an eyebrow, and I felt red from the chin up.

  “Hockey players,” I quickly explained. “In full uniform.”

  She eyed me like the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland, her mouth curving into a grin. “Yeah, but you’re always stripping in front of it.”

  I felt my jaw drop. “That’s where I change my clothes!”

  She lifted one shoulder, a little too smug for my liking. “Just sayin’.”

  Red danced across my vision as I gripped the edge of the bench. “That’s not why it’s there, and you know it.” I fixed her with a not-so-subtle glare and pressed on, “Besides, unlike some people I know, I don’t get off on a little roughing.”

  “Then why do you watch it?” Wallace asked, his attention focusing on me like a spotlight.

  “I-I just like hockey,” I stammered. “I mean, the televised games are cool and all, but it’s better in person.” I relaxed a little, remembering the game my brother and I caught over winter break. It was the only time I’d pried him away from his girlfriend, and it was more fun than I’d had in ages. “The arena just has this pulse to it. The music’s pounding, everyone’s screaming, but the only thing you listen for is the puck. Sure, it’s great to see the guys drop their gloves and mix it up in the corner, but the real action is around the crease, you know?”

  No one moved or said anything.

  I just gave myself a penis, didn’t I? I turned to Gabby as murderous intent began to rise from within. She started this stupid conversation.

  Said offender opened her mouth to speak, but Wallace beat her to the punch.

  “I want to see you at a game.” Crease lines formed at his eyes as he grinned, showing a dimple. “I bet you’re one of those fans who bang on the glass.”

  “I am not.” I scoffed, adding in a quieter voice, “I can’t afford it.”

  He laughed and sat down on the far end of the bench, straddling it. “Okay.”

  Gabby perked up, obviously happy that her game wasn’t a total bust. “Wallace’s turn!”

  “Hmm…” He rubbed at the scruff on his chin.

  Was he really going to play along?

  “I’m a twin. Does that count?”

  I sucked in all of the room’s remaining oxygen. “Seriously?”

  Gabby pounced. “What? Where’s your twin? Does he go here?”

  He rubbed his jaw, glancing up at the washer. “Cole? No, he doesn’t go here. He lives in Columbus.”

  She slouched down. “Aww…”

  “Well, that’s cool,” I said. “Do you guys get along?”

  He paused, blanking his expression. “We don’t really see each other that much.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  He waved me off. “So, you guys seem pretty close. How long have you been living together?”

  “Since freshman year!” Gabby thrust her fist up, like we’d actually accomplished something. “Two and a half years. Can you believe it?”

  “I can’t,” I added dryly, making a face. I’d probably spent half of that time in Aiden’s room, avoiding the scrunchie on my doorknob.

  She poked her tongue out. “Anyway, Wallace, have you ever kept a roommate or have they always…?”

  He shook his head. “I transferred here at the beginning of the year. Before that, I didn’t have to worry about it, because I commuted.”

  “Why’d you transfer?” Gabby asked, not missing a beat.

  “I finished my associate degree in accounting,” he explained. “I’m doing my bachelor degree up here.”

  “Accounting?” I tilted my head, imagining this crazy-huge guy, buttoned up in a suit, sitting in a cubicle all day long. It just didn’t fit. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as the numbers type.”

  “What would you peg me as, instead?”

  Anything that lists testosterone as a prerequisite. “I don’t know,” I lied.

  His brow arched in what appeared to be great skepticism, but he didn’t call me out on it.

  I frowned. “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  Oh no. He couldn’t make a face like that and write it off as nothing. “What was the face for?”

  “What face?”

  “Stop doing that.”

  A grin tugged at his lips. “Doing what?”

  “Acting like you don’t believe me.”

  “Who said I don’t believe you?”

  I wanted to leap across the bench and choke him. If there was one, inherent ability all males possessed, it was the power to frustrate me. “You made a face.”

  “What face?”

  “Wallace!” I clenched and unclenched my fists, taking a deep whiff of fabric softener. “I will hurt you and make it look like self-defense.”

  He laughed. It wasn’t a snicker or a chuckle this time. The boy let out a deep belly laugh that seemed to resonate in his chest.

  I couldn’t help but crack a grin.

  “She could, too,” Gabby added. “You’re twice her size. There’s no way they’d believe she would be stupid enough to jump you.”

  How did I forget she was there? “Wait. What do you mean by stupid?” I zeroed in on her, narrowing my eyes. “You don’t think I could take him?”

  She lifted her lids, giving me a look that clearly displayed her lack of faith. “Uh…”

  “You guys suck.” I huffed and turned to straddle the bench, reclining until my back hit the wooden board. If I was stuck here for an hour, I was at least going to be comfortable. I rolled my eyes back and tilted my chin, sneaking a glance at Wallace.

  He stared back, studying me with an unreadable expression.

  I gulped and turned my head to meet Gabby at eye level. “Have any more brilliant ways to kill time?”

  “Girl, don’t you take that sarcastic tone with me.” She clicked her tongue and shook her head. “I’ll come up with something even better.”

  I groaned and closed my eyes, hoping that’d discourage her. Something scooted across the floor, and I heard the sound of pages being fanned.

  “Okay, here. I’ll read horoscopes. Wallace, when’s your birthday?”

  “February 27th.”

  I cracked my eyes open. She was reading my magazine.

  “Oo, okay, you’re a Pisces,” she said.

  “Great.” He didn’t sound too enthused.

  “Here we go. ‘Deep, fundamental shifts are happening this month, and your best bet is to go with the flow. Don’t struggle against the current. You won’t regret the journey.’”

  “Ooo…” I waved my hands in the air mockingly. “Accepting inevitable change. Spooky.”

  “Shut up,” she demanded, running a finger down the page. “Let’s look at yours, Ms. Sagittarius.”

  “I’m holding my breath.”

  I heard Wallace chuckle behind me and felt a small pang of triumph.

  “Aha! ‘A challenge lies ahead for the archer this month. As much as you hate it, you may have to lean on someone. Call upon your reserves of energy and perseverance to make it through.’”

  Talk about a load of crap. I plastered on a fake smile and stuck out my hand. “Let me read yours.”

  “Okay!” She handed the magazine over and pulled her legs up to her chest eagerly.

  “Let’s see, Gemini…” I covered my face with the pages, not bothering to actually read them. “You will meddle in the affairs of others and be punished as a result.” Before she could say anything, I pitched the magazine across the room. “Oh my gosh! It was right!”

  Gabby’s face contorted into something murderous as she hauled herself up and stomped after it.

  “Are you guys always like this?” Wallace asked.

  “Huh?” I tilted my head back to find his face bent over mine, blue eyes amused. A familiar heat torched my skin as I st
ruggled to form coherent thoughts. “T-That’s just how we...roll.” Look away. Look away!

  Something cracked against my knee, and I let out a yelp, averting my gaze.

  Gabby stood over me with the rolled up magazine. “So not cool.” She shook it a few times for threatening emphasis.

  I laughed. Who would have ever thought I’d spend a Thursday night in the basement with these two? Better yet, who would’ve thought I’d enjoy it?

  Fifty-some minutes passed in a leisurely stream of conversation. The only interruption came when Gabby got a call. She finished up and tapped something on the phone’s screen. “Okay, gotta jet.” She pocketed the device, sprang from the floor, and dropped my magazine on the bench. “Mavey’s taking me to The Drag.” She wrenched her dryer open and tossed the nearly dried garments into her basket. “You guys want to come with?”

  I shook my head. The Drag was a seedy bar on the corner of Lenox St. and Drake Ave. There was no way in hell Wallace would be up for going to a place like that. “He goes to church,” I explained, dismissing the invitation.

  “Oh, okay.” She accepted the excuse easily enough, and I was proud of her for internalizing whatever had gone on inside that warped brain of hers. She bent down to grab her basket. “You up for it?”

  “Nah, I think I’ve sworn off socializing for a while.” Socializing, of course, meant drinking—or anything else that made me feel like death warmed over.

  She shrugged and sauntered toward the door. “Suit yourself.”

  “Wait.” I cocked my head to the side. “Did you say Mavey, as in Maverick? You’re seeing him again?”

  It was practically unheard of. Only once before had I seen her encourage any kind of follow-up communication with one of her bed buddies, and that was the D-bag who ended up cheating on her freshman year. She’d acted indifferent, but I knew it really messed with her head.

  “Yeah, I guess.” She jerked on the door handle. “Is that a problem?”

  “No.” It wasn’t like I wanted to call her out on it. If anything, it was a good sign. Unless…“Hey, make sure you take it back to his room this time.”

  One of the dryers buzzed as her lips pulled back into a wicked curve.

  “I’m serious!” I didn’t care if Jinx was in Maverick’s room or not. I was not getting kicked out of my room overnight again.