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Because I’ve seen that light before, coming from the next-door neighbors.
Aka, Creepy Charles place.
Dirty Lies
Zhara
Ducking to the floor, Wilder lets out another string of curses as he digs his phone out of his pocket. “Zhara, stay low and lie down on the floor,” he orders as he punches buttons on his phone.
I do as he says, rolling off the bed and lying on the floor on my stomach. “What is that light?”
“A scanner.” He doesn’t embellish. “Shit, Benton’s not answering.”
I start to ask him what a scanner is when he army crawls toward the door, nodding for me to follow. “Keep low and follow me.”
I drag my body across the floor, following him out of my room.
Once we’re in the hallway, he leaps up, snags my arm, and lifts me to my feet. Then he tows me with him as he hauls butt down the hallway toward the stairway. Fear pulsates through my body, questions racing through my mind over what a scanner could be and why Wilder seems so afraid of it.
But as we reach the middle of the stairs, my attention is pulled to Benton.
He’s standing in the foyer, holding his phone up next to a photo of me of when I was younger. He must have his phone on speakerphone, since he’s talking in a hushed whisper to someone. Well, either that or he’s talking to himself. Wilder doesn’t seem to notice any of this, his attention fixed on the screen of his phone, which has lit up with a glowing red light.
Strange. Almost as strange as what Benton is doing.
A sense of dread settles in my stomach. I don’t know why, but I have a terrible feeling something bad is about to happen.
As we near the bottom of the stairs, I get a better glimpse of Benton’s phone and stop dead in my tracks, the sense of dread amplifying.
“Why do you have a photo of me when I was younger on your phone?” I ask, gripping onto the banister.
Benton whirls around, startled, while Wilder’s head whips up.
“Shit,” Wilder says at the same time Benton hurries to put his phone away.
“What was that?” I ask worriedly. Because it looked like a photo of me attached to some sort of file.
Benton trades a nervous look with Wilder before his gaze settles on me. “It’s something you don’t need to worry about right now.”
I’ve never been one to demand the truth, but that sense of dread consumes me.
Something isn’t right. What if it has to do with my parents? Has he found out something—something bad—and isn’t telling me.
Wiggling my hand from Wilder’s, I take a step toward Benton. “No, I want to worry about it right now.”
Benton carries my gaze, swallowing hard. Then his lips part. “We’ve been keeping some stuff from you—”
“He can’t tell you right now,” Wilder cuts him off. “Not with an SC.”
Benton’s eyes briefly widen. “What?”
Wilder points up at the ceiling. “Right now.”
They’re speaking in code and it’s driving me crazy, mainly because Benton just admitted that he’s been keeping some stuff from me. But I have a feeling they’re not talking normally because a scanner might be similar to being bugged.
“We should go,” Wilder says. “Take a bit of a break then regroup. You can take her to the T. It should be good there.”
Benton nods once then reaches for my hand, but I step back. He freezes, giving me a worried look.
“Zhara, please.” His eyes beg for me to cooperate.
I don’t want to and if I were in bad girl character, I wouldn’t. But, without the guys, I’d be alone in this. And that scares me.
So, I take his hand and allow him to lead me outside to his car. Wilder and Xavier climb into the backseat while I take the passenger seat. No one speaks as we back out onto the road, but I send a text to Alexis, wishing she’d answer—wishing I had someone else to talk to about this. But I get no response and an uneasiness stews inside me. The last update I got about her was from Benton and apparently he hasn’t been honest with me. What if Alexis isn’t okay? What if no one in my family is safe? And why the heck did Benton have that photo of me on his phone?
After we drive out of the neighborhood, I turn to Benton to ask him questions. But he shakes his head and points at my arm.
I glance down to see what he’s pointing at and then my jaw nearly smacks my knees. Underneath my pale, freckled skin, my blood veins have become extremely defined and dark.
“What’s happening to me?” I whisper in horror.
Benton’s jaw sets tight as he looks back at the road. “I’ll explain later, but I promise you’ll be okay.”
Wilder said okay was a placement word, so what is Benton not telling me. Apparently a lot of stuff.
Just how many lies have I been told?
My stomach churns at the possible answers and all I want to do is get out of the car and run. But, not having any place to run to, I have no choice but to stay in the car and hope that whatever secrets Benton has been keeping from me aren’t as bad as I think.
But as the veins on my arms continue to darken and my body turns cold, I know my own thoughts are lying to me. That this is probably going to be as bad as I think.
Maybe even worse.
Benton
This is probably the worse way Zhara could’ve found out that she was once a test patient in a Drug Tunnel Experimental Facility, which yes, the photo confirmed she was. I was planning on telling her later, after we got back to my house where we’d be able to talk privately. But now I’m going to have to explain everything to her when we get to the training pit, which isn’t the ideal place to tell a girl that she was once used for testing new drugs. She’s going to have a lot of questions, like why she ended up in the facility and under an alias name. And why on earth her blood veins are darkening right now. The first two questions I can’t answer yet, although I fully plan on looking into them. The latter I do have an answer for unfortunately. Her body is reacting to the scan that I’m assuming her neighbor did. A scan can detect just about everything, giving x-ray vision along with reflecting sounds, which means anyone doing a scan can see and hear whatever they want. Scanners are very rare and it makes me wonder what sort of connection her neighbor has.
Scanners have side effects too, one being it counteracts with certain types of electronic chips. Which means, Zhara has an electronic chip planted in her. It could be from her time at the facility. But I was under the impression the organization removed the chips after they rescued the subjects. So now I’m wondering if someone else planted a chip on her.
Telling her this isn’t going to be easy, especially since I promised her everything will be okay.
I need to fix this. Somehow.
I just hope she gives me the time to fix it.
Out of the corner of my eye, I glance at her, trying to get a vibe on what she’s thinking.
She’s staring at her arms, her face pale, her eyes crammed with hurt. I hate that I’m part of the reason the hurt is there. Hate that I hurt her. Hate that the morning turned out this way. She’d done well with the whole proving-to-Tank-and-Ralpho-that-we-were-all-dating situation, even if watching her kiss Xavier did make my jaw tick a bit. He won’t admit it, but he enjoyed the kiss, even if it was all supposed to be a show. Xavier rarely shows emotion—well, other than being pissed off at the world—but his guard went down during the kiss. It’s been a long time since his guard has gone down.
“This will go away, right?” Zhara suddenly whispers, tracing her fingertip across her blood veins.
I nod my head once, worried we’re still too close to the scanner. “You’re going to be fine, sweetheart.”
She doesn’t look relieved, her skin paling even more.
Not knowing how else to comfort her, I reach across the console and lace my fingers through her’s. I expect her to pull away and wouldn’t blame her if she did, but she surprises me when she leaves her hand in mine.
The gesture give
s me a drop of hope that when I tell her the truth she won’t fucking run for the hills. She can’t run, even if she wants to. Sadly she’s in our world too deeply to run away now and part of me hates myself for bringing her into this mess. But at the same time, I think the mess would’ve eventually found her anyway.
I just wish I knew who brought Zhara into a world full of drug lords, organizations, and why the hell she ended up in the Drug Tunnel Experimental Facility to begin with.
