Something soft presses against my cheek. Warm, smooth, plush. I rub my face against it, keeping my eyes closed, and breathe in the smell of fresh linen.
More sleep.
I groan and stretch out my legs and toes. One of my joints cracks. An ache spreads through my neck, a deep soreness settling into the base of my skull.
Without warning, images of a stark-white lab ceiling, a foggy train window, violent rain in a chaotic city and indifferent almond-shaped eyes come flooding in.
My eyes fly open.
What happened?
I shoot up, entangled in blue cotton sheets on a compact fold-out bed.
The last thing I remember was collapsing in Jesse's shop after he refused to help me.
No sign of anyone else in the small room, which appears more like an office. A massive desk with three computers rests against the wall adjacent to the bed. Piles of papers, gadgets and trinkets sit scattered on top. A cabinet, crammed with vials and bottles, stands next to the desk. A medical examination table and couch both sit against the same wall as the bed.
Two doors remain closed, one in each corner of the room.
Reaching up to the base of my skull, I carefully tap the flesh where the chip was implanted. Nothing. All that's left is a slight hollow dip where it once was.
I'm alive.
I sigh, feeling the weight of the world finally leave my shoulders. No chip, no headaches, no explosions making my brains scatter in every direction.
Then it hits me.
No chip...Jesse took out the chip.
He has it.
I throw off the top sheet, but it tangles around my ankle even more in my little cocoon. Yanking my foot out, I manage to get free and jump off the bed.
After collapsing, I thought I would at least feel wobbly. Instead, each muscle feels strong, almost brand-new. The bullet graze on my neck, the cuts on my hands, all of it. Power electrifies my every movement as I rush to the desk.
Junk litters all across the surface.
I push items around, look under folders, shove papers onto the ground and throw open drawers.
Nothing.
Where is my damn chip?
Suddenly, the door in the right corner opens.
Dark brown, almond-shaped eyes widen and narrow as a young man takes in the sight of my intrusion. Tall, wide-frame, muscular build, dark, wavy hair.
Jesse Wu.
He tilts his head to the side.
"Looking for this?" The chip appears in his hand. My chip.
Cronus tech, with a tracker and all my secrets, in the palm of his hand.
As quickly as it appears, it disappears into his back pocket.
My hands curl into fists. I'm about to rush at him, beat him up until its mine again and take off, but I stop.
He might already know what it is, who and what I am. Stealing it and running away won't do any good if he knows the truth.
I frown at him silently, waiting for the accusations to come pouring from his lips.
He walks towards me, his chest high with a calm confidence. I take a step back as he slides onto the desk and into my personal space. Sitting on the edge, a slight sneer grows on his face.
"I wouldn't move too much if I were you."
"What happened?" I ask.
"You'll probably be sore for a while."
"What happened?" I repeat, heat flushing my cheeks and neck.
He chuckles and shakes his head.
"I took it out, which you already know, so don't play stupid."
Red hits my cheeks like a slap to the face. In the flash of a millisecond, I imagine knocking out his teeth, kicking him right in his juicy parts and slapping that annoying and arrogant smirk clean off his face.
I size him up, taking in the sight of his impressive build and calm intensity. His dark eyes appear relaxed, but his sharp jaw clenches tight.
A black tattoo snakes up one his thick biceps and disappears under the sleeve of his tight shirt. Just above the collar, the edge of the tattoo peeks out. His wide-frame and well-developed muscles give him the look of a fighter.
Fighter or not, I can take him.
"Where am I?" I growl.
"Where do you think?" He laughs. "Back of my shop."
"How long was I out?"
"Thirteen hours." He shrugs. "Now...there's the issue of payment."
Mierda.
No money to pay him and all my secrets are hiding in his back pocket. I imagine rushing him again, taking what's mine and bolting.
"I know you don't have any money. No communicator, no money, just some clothes. I looked through your bag," he explains unapologetically.
"What?" I snarl, taking a step towards him. "Why would you do that?"
Anger pulsates through my veins, making every muscle constrict.
I'm this close to beating the crap out of you.
The smirk on his face doesn't change. A single brow perks up as he takes in the sight of my fury.
"Since you have no money," he continues, unfazed. "I want something else."
"Give me what's mine. Then we strike a deal."
Laughter fills the air. The sound hits me like a bucket of ice water.
He shakes his head, the smirk growing into a full grin.
He's enjoying this.
"Why are you laughing," I mutter through clenched teeth.
"Answers. That's what I want. And right now, you have zero cards to play. You want your chip?" His dark brown eyes barrel into me, the smile slowly disappearing. "Let's start with your name."
My eyes flash to the door.
"Don't even think about it."
I glare at him.
"I thought you were supposed to be discreet. Ever heard of privacy?"
"I am discreet. Usually." He nods. "But, you aren't paying me to be discreet, are you?"
You're dead. I am literally going to murder you.
"So," he continues. "I want an explanation."
Spending the rest of my life in a Mhinto prison, or worse, being found out of who and what I am, is a very real possibility. One wrong answer, one wrong move, and I'm done for.
"Ray," I admit. "My name is Ray." The words spill out before I can stop them.
Welcome to prison, Ray. Hope you like rotting away and being eaten alive by a bunch of Mhinto snakes.
"Alright, Ray..." he slowly repeats my name. "What is it?"
Slipping his hand into his back pocket, he pulls out my chip. He waves it at me, twirling it between his index finger and thumb.
"A tracking device, I think," I blurt.
Why is this so hard?
Punching him and threatening to cut off his juicy parts would be a million times easier than trying to lie my way out of this.
"It's not a tracker. So, let's try this again. What the hell is it?"
"I told you," I snap. "It's a tracking device of some sort. I don't know the details!"
A stillness falls over him, his brows lowering over his eyes.
"I ran an analysis on it, and it's not a tracker. It may or may not contain one, but it seems to be malfunctioning. There is more to this than you're telling me."
I open my mouth, but quickly shut it. Every lie always comes back to bite me in the ass.
"I don't know anything else about that thing." I avoid looking him in the eye. Unable to keep my hands still, I shove them into my front pockets.
"Sure. That makes sense." He nods. "Who put it in your neck and why?" His words fire at me like a bullet out of a gun.
Ok. Cover story.
"Some people in Limon. They inserted it to keep track of my movements."
"Why?"
"My brother...got mixed up with a bad group." The memory of Jackson's flushed face and his shaking arms pointing that gun at me appears in my mind.
The air in the room suddenly feels thin.
"I was his collateral if he didn't do what he was told. One day, he didn't." Ignoring the knife in my back, I lock away the cut of his betrayal.
"He's dead now," I finish.
To me.
"Limon?" Jesse scoffs. "You really expect me to believe that? The safest country in the world with the lowest crime rate."
Mierda. Mierda. Mierda.
"You don't have to believe me!" I groan. "I don't care. Just give me my chip and I'll be on my way."
I extend my hand out.
"You're not getting this back," he chuckles. "I'm holding onto it."
"Give. Me. My. Chip."
My blood begins to boil. Prison or not, I need to smack that annoying, self-pleased grin off his face.
The relaxation in his posture remains, pissing me off even more. He's not scared or worried by my threatening stance. At all.
You don't know who you're dealing with.
"Well, Ray..." he leans forward, dropping his voice. "You. Can't. Have. It."
That's it.
Red flashes across my vision. I'm about to pull my arm back and pummel my fist into his jaw, when the door in the opposite corner suddenly bursts open.
"Stop!" A mouse-like voice cries out.
I freeze.
A young girl stands in the doorway, staring wide-eyed at us. No more than a few years younger than Cam. Brown, almond-shaped eyes shift between the two of us. She shares a striking resemblance with Jesse.
"I told you not to come in here," Jesse barks at her. "Gǔn kāi!"
She raises her chin and places her hands on her hips.
"No. You're supposed to be helping her!"
"I did help," he snaps. "Now, I need to know who she is what she's doing in Mhinto."
"Who are you?" She spins, gazing those warm brown eyes up at me.
Jesse's little sister.
I glance between the two of them.
No doubt raised by different human beings entirely.
"My name is Ray."
"I'm Alba." She beams at me. "Jesse is my big brother. Are you ok now? We thought you weren't going to make it."
"Alba. Out. Now." Jesse orders. Daggers shoot from his eyes, commanding her to leave, without even having to move from his spot.
"Not until I see that she's ok, and that you're not going to keep fighting."
The room falls silent.
Alba holds his stare, raising her chin high. In less than a second, she swallows hard, unable to hide the nerves underneath that brave front.
Jesse melts away, transforming into some combination of me and Jackson. Alba becomes a mesh of me and Cameron, confronting our older sibling, like a good old-fashioned stand off.
My heart squeezes. Pain, longing and horror swirl together into one unspeakable monster.
"I'm ok," I force the words through the knot in my throat, mustering a small smile. Turning to Jesse, I force the emotion down, lock it away. The monster inside can never come out.
"And...I apologize." The words taste bitter on my tongue.
I can't fight. And I can't run away without the chip.
"That chip is very important to me. It needs to be destroyed. The people after me are really dangerous," I admit honestly.
Alba's eyes widen.
"I'm not giving it back to you yet," Jesse decides. "The tracking device isn't working, so there's no harm in me keeping it."
Like hell there isn't.
"Jesse," Alba whines. He stares back at her, his eyes hard. For a split second, they soften.
"Bùnéng." Instantly, the hardness returns.
She huffs and throws her fists down.
He's not giving in.
"So..." Alba mumbles, turning to me. "Where did you come from?"
"I'm from Limon." Without thinking, my eyes flash to Jesse's.
"Are you here for vacation?" She continues.
"Not exactly. I'm trying to stay hidden and safe from some people in Limon."
She gasps.
"You're a refugee, then?" Her face lights up.
"Yeah...I guess so."
"I have to say. I didn't know Limon was so dangerous." Jesse interjects with snark, a single brow raised.
I glare at him.
"It's not. But the people after me are."
"Jessseeeee," Alba whines again, her lips in a full pout.
They stare at each other, having some secret conversation.
"Bùnéng," he repeats, refusing her unspoken request. Whatever she wants, he's not giving in.
He sighs and turns to me.
"Now that you no longer need my services, where will you go?"
There it is.
The question I should've planned for, but couldn't even think about during the frenzy to get to this moment.
"I don't know..." I admit.
"Well...don't forget your contraband." Jesse reaches under the desk, pulls out my backpack and chucks it at me.
I catch it, gripping one of the straps in a single hand.
"Gee, thanks." I bite back.
"Go where?" Alba steps between me and Jesse, looming those brown eyes at me. An ache strikes me right in the heart. Her worry, that expression, it feels like I'm looking right at Cam.
"I'll figure it out." I muster a smile. "I can take care of myself. Don't worry."
I turn to leave, but freeze, looking between both doors.
"That one." Jesse nods with his head to the left.
I half expect him to stop me from leaving as I move around Alba, but he doesn't. Reaching the door, I open it and step out.
Alba begins whining again. The sound of her voice cuts off with the close of the door behind me.
I navigate around the black motorcycle, step out into the street and into the hot sun. The late afternoon heat immediately makes my skin prickle with sweat.
Shops burst with customers, ads pop and people bustle up and down the street. I pause, looking each way.
No Cronus and no chip killing me. But also no money, no shelter and no knowledge of how to survive here without getting caught. On top of that, I have to come back and steal the chip.
What now?
"Wait," a voice calls out behind me. Turning around, I see Jesse emerge out of the garage.
I wait for him to speak, but he just looks up and down the street.
"What?"
He brings himself just an arm's length and leans in close.
"We might know a place where you can go." His voice is low, his eyes glancing all around.
"Alba, huh?" I smirk.
"You want to be on your own? Fine." He points down the road. "Go ahead."
"Alright, alright."
I cross my arms over my chest.
"What's this place?"
"Just follow me."
He brings his face just centimeters away, barreling his dark eyes into mine.
I raise my chin and meet his stare.
"One wrong move, Ray, and I will personally hand you over to the police, or send you straight back to wherever it is you came from. Understand?"
By some miracle, I keep my groan in.
You're going to make life hard from me, aren't you?
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