Disruption (6 page)

Gus looked me over when I slid back into the car’s black interior. I hadn’t bothered with a jacket since the day had been warm. May has always been my favourite month.

‘Who would’ve known … The hooker look actually works for you,’ Gus said, pulling away from the kerb.

‘I’ll remember that comment if it all goes belly up tonight and you need me to save your weak ass,’ I responded, shifting into a better position to put my feet back on the dash.

Gus’s eyes widened as he contemplated my heels. ‘Wait! Don’t, you’ll put a damn hole in the leather!’

I kept lifting my feet.

‘Okay, okay! I’m sorry, you don’t look like a hooker and I do need you to have my back in there, and I
really
need you to not put those heels on my dash!’

I smiled, putting my feet back on the floor, and turned my attention to the window. Everything was right again in the Gus–Maggie world.

B
urn was aptly named.

Post Phera-tech, people were more careful. Smoking and illicit drugs – the old-fashioned kind anyway – were all but extinct and diets constantly monitored.

But alcohol was still acceptable and there were only two types of drinks served at Burn. Spirits and water. And the water was only available because it was the law.

It made serving straightforward. Waitresses simply circulated the room with trays of shots and you paid the set price for all spirits. You could run a tab or pay as you went. Either way, there was only one unspoken rule in Burn: everybody drank. And most indulged in black-market lust-enhancers.

Once through security, Gus and I were greeted by a buxom waitress holding a long rectangular tray of multicoloured shot glasses.

Gus knew the drill and didn’t hesitate, taking two clear-coloured shots from the tray. He held out his M-Band to the waitress, who flashed a digital pen at it, uploading the cost of the drinks. There was no such thing as cash anymore. Every individual was simply uplinked to a banking zip. Gus added a generous tip and thumb-printed the transfer.

Handing me one of the shots, he gave me a wink and then headed on his way to the roped-off reserved area. I rolled my eyes as Gus proceeded to detour via a table of scantily dressed girls, eyes fixed to his M-Band and his pheromone ratings. The funny part was, I knew he was doing it for my benefit. Gus wasn’t interested in those girls. He just didn’t want me to know he was jonesing big time for Kelsey Garner, a girl he’d started seeing a couple of months ago. He thought he’d kept her a secret, but I knew everything about Kelsey – and her brother – and if I had to, I’d use that to my advantage. For now Gus could believe he’d managed to keep his private life hidden.

The beat of the music pulsed through the floor and I glanced around at the club’s patrons. The air was palpable with excitement for the night’s unknown possibilities. I started towards the end of the bar and wondered if I’d ever experience that kind of thrill. I sniffed the drink and sighed. I didn’t know how he picked it every damn time. I’d be okay with vodka, or even gin. But tequila tore me up from the inside. A fact Gus knew well.

I’d barely made it to the edge of the service area – a spot I knew would give me the best vantage point – before I felt a tap on my shoulder.

Spinning around, I came face to face with familiar brown eyes. Eyes like mine, sucked dry by city living.

My family belonged in the country.

‘Are you trying to get me fired?’ my brother hissed, his grip on my shoulder tightening to make it clear he
really
wasn’t happy to see me.

I shrugged and smiled guiltily, missing the annoying but kind big brother I’d once known. ‘Sam, come on. There’s this guy I really like … He’s meeting me here.’

Samuel’s eyes narrowed. ‘How old is he?’

I looked down. ‘Twenty-one,’ I hedged. ‘He works with me. Please, Sam. We won’t be here long.’

He glanced down at my shot glass, running his hand through his short, sandy blond hair. ‘How many of them have you had?’ he asked.

‘This is my first.’ I screwed up my face. ‘Tequila.’

That, at least, earned me a smile. ‘I’ll get you a couple shots of H2O so no one bothers you. No more alcohol,’ he warned.

Samuel looked around the bar, his height making it easy for him. If only he cared about himself a little more, he could be strong and useful, but Sam stopped caring about anything after Dad was taken. I’d tried to tell him my theories once. He’d simply shot me down. Sam blamed Dad. He would until I proved different.

‘Mags, make sure you’re out of here in half an hour.’

I nodded. ‘Mom said she thought you met someone,’ I said, casually looking over his shoulder to check on Gus. The contact had arrived and was sitting opposite Gus at a small table. The guy was short with slick black hair. I could see the hardness in his eyes and the bulge in his jacket that told me he was carrying. Super. Another armed baddie.

‘Mom gets too excited,’ Sam said, glancing around the bar again. He wasn’t scoping for work to do. He was scoping the crowd. The female crowd.

‘She said you rated high,’ I pushed, feeling irritated that his attention was so fleeting. We lived in the same house, but we barely ever saw each other. Wasn’t I worth a few minutes?

Samuel looked back at me and shrugged. ‘Not looking for anything permanent. You know that.’

I sighed. I didn’t want people to live by the ratings system, but I wished he’d be open to finding someone he could care about. Samuel lived by the system more than anyone I knew, but he used the ratings to ensure he never got close to anyone. He only pursued low rating lust-matches. One night was more than enough as far as he was concerned.

‘You going to be home any night this week?’ I asked, but he’d already caught the scent of my disapproval and stiffened.

‘Mom said you’re hardly around yourself. What? You got some kind of puppy love for this guy or something?’

I snorted. This conversation was on a fast track to nowhere and I needed to get back to work. ‘I promise I’ll be out of here in half an hour,’ I snapped.

Samuel seemed to agree the chat was over because his lips pursed and then he stormed off. Another golden family moment.

Ignoring the lump in my throat, I turned my attention back to Gus’s exchange. He was leaning forwards, and I watched as he glanced in my direction.

Perfect.

Gus knew better than to make eye contact.

Sure enough, the man with the slick hair turned to look in my direction. Not missing a beat, I smiled sweetly and downed my shot of tequila, fighting the gag reflex and biting down on the corner of my bottom lip. The contact smirked and looked away. Apparently I’d made myself look like enough of a party girl to lose his interest for now.

Knowing I’d need to keep a low profile from here on out, I turned my attention back to the bar, where I could just make out Gus’s table in the splashback mirror.

‘Never would’ve guessed I’d see you here,’ a voice said from behind my ear. It was a voice that caused an unwelcome reaction.

I breathed in slowly, keeping my eyes down. Tonight was turning into one big cluster-f …

‘I guess age doesn’t matter in your world. Doors just open, right,’ I said, not turning around.

Quentin leaned in and, when he spoke next, I could smell the rum on his breath. ‘In yours too, it appears,’ he said, surprising me by leaning even closer.

‘Back off,’ I warned, now turning slightly towards him.

When I got a good look at him, my breath caught, causing him to smirk. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, he was a visual feast in his jeans and a fitted white shirt with the top few buttons undone. But it was the scar at his hairline that drew my eyes the most. Something about it made him seem somehow … real.

I averted my eyes when I saw his smile widening. I could hear him breathe deeply through his nose. For some inconvenient reason I was suddenly on edge. That is, until he said, ‘Never would’ve picked you for the tequila type.’

That was when I realised his smile wasn’t so much a smile as a challenge. Quentin wasn’t happy about me being in his life, and he most certainly wasn’t happy about me crashing his night out. And it appeared he’d acquired some liquid courage.

I glanced down the bar and spotted his two older brothers sitting in a corner booth with a pair of breasty blondes who no doubt scored off the charts in the lust department. Classy.

‘Go back to your table, Quentin. I’m sure if you’re a good boy, you’ll get your very own Barbie for Christmas.’

He turned towards his brothers and flinched when he noticed they were looking in our direction. Out of nowhere he suddenly stumbled over his own, stationary, feet.

He righted himself and stepped towards me, swaying right into my personal space. He placed a hand on my waist and tugged me close. With barely a breath between us, I arched back. I hadn’t thought he was this drunk a moment ago.

‘I don’t want a Barbie,’ he growled. ‘And it’s a good thing too, since it seems the only thing I’ve got lately is you.’

A combination of things happened at that moment. Quentin’s grip on my waist tightened, almost desperately. I felt a surge of guilt and something else in response to his touch, and I glanced at Gus’s table just long enough to see his contact register the fact that I had Quentin Mercer draped over me.

Gus was talking fast, his hands raised in a placating gesture. His contact was pissed.

Quentin sighed. ‘I think I’m drunk,’ he confessed, unaware that his presence had just put us all in danger. The black-market world was strictly a Mercer-free zone.

I grabbed his hands off my waist and pushed him back. ‘You think?’ I barked, angry with him for ruining our trade. I needed to move. Fast.

He blinked, then seemed to remember where we were. ‘How’d you get in here?’ he asked.

‘My brother works here. He snuck me in,’ I answered, my attention still focused on the other table.

Gus’s contact stood up and snatched the payment disk from the table. That disk had our hard-earned money on it. I waited, watching Gus and ignoring Quentin.

‘My family knows about you. They want to meet you.’

That, and the flat tone of this statement, was almost enough to make me look at him. But I waited until Gus turned to me. His heated expression made me grimace. He shook his head.

‘Damn it,’ I said.

‘Yeah, I don’t like it either,’ Quentin carried on. ‘Why don’t you just come over and sit with us for a bit. It might be enough.’

I turned cold eyes on him. ‘Not tonight.’ I pushed past him and started for the door, but he grabbed my wrist.

‘At least come over and say hello.’

I spun back around. I really didn’t have time for this so I got right up in his face. ‘I’m the last thing between you and a very
unhappily
ever after. Tell me what to do again, and I’ll do something that only one of us will ever regret. Now let go of me and go back to your table. Alone.’

His hand dropped to his side and I sped towards the door. I ran out the door and around to the back of the club, where I found Gus taking a right hook to the face. Anger flared. He might not be my friend, but he was mine to protect. I’d promised him that much.

Not breaking stride, I marched right up to the contact, who was lining Gus up for another jab, and grabbed his shoulder. In a split second I spun him around before I landed my own right hook in his eye. The contact stumbled, letting go of Gus who promptly slid to the ground. He was such a lightweight.

The contact grabbed at his face where I’d just hit him. ‘You bitch. I’m gonna mess you up for that.’

I knew I was meant to have some witty comeback. And trust me, I’d like to have the luxury of retort time, but I was too busy shoving my elbow into his face, followed by the heel of my palm to his nose, and then moving in so that when I kneed him it hit just right. I’d work on fitting an appropriately cutting remark into the sequence next time.

As it was, it was satisfying enough to see him go to his knees, clutching at his bits.

I leaned forwards, holding onto his collar as I reached into his too-tight jeans and pulled out our money disk.

‘Gus came for intel and he was happy to pay for it. I know you have it on you, and I could easily go fishing until I find it …’ The thought of poking around in his skin-tight pockets made me shudder. ‘But if I have to do that, you’re not getting this.’ I waved our disk under his nose. ‘We came for a trade. Now do you want one or not?’

I heard a loud groan and glanced at Gus, who was stumbling to his feet. I rolled my eyes.

The contact looked at Gus. ‘You need a girl to be your bodyguard?’ he sneered.

Gus wiped at the tiny drop of blood in the corner of his mouth. ‘Jealous, Travis?’

The contact – Travis – sighed and looked back at me. ‘You gonna beat the shit out of me if I hand it over?’

‘Not unless you try anything else stupid.’

‘I saw you with that Mercer kid. He was all over you.’ He watched for my reaction suspiciously.

I crossed my arms. ‘Can’t help it if the guy is desperate, can I?’ He held my eyes for a beat. I waited. Finally, he pressed his lips together and made his decision, reaching into his back pocket and producing a slim zip drive.

I took it from his outstretched hand.

‘I trust we can move forwards from here,’ I said. ‘No point in us doing this deal if we can’t trade again.’ It was the truth. We were paying for intel we already had, just to test the waters.

Travis’s ease with the current scene was enough to let me know he was a seasoned trader. And not afraid of things getting messy. Both good and bad news.

‘I’d prefer you didn’t beat me up every time, but my end will hold up. If yours does too, we can talk again. Expect me to bring my own bodyguards next time. And don’t be having no Mercer kid hanging around again.’

Gus, apparently finished with the night’s activities, started walking away. ‘I’m going to get the car. And a fucking aspirin,’ he said.

I passed Travis the money disk. ‘Hopefully, next time you won’t even see me.’

He took the disk and stood. ‘Honey, I don’t mind looking at you. I’d just prefer it wasn’t your knee making contact with my balls next time.’

I didn’t have a response for that. Frankly, I didn’t want any part of my body near his balls again. Ever.

I waited a moment, to give Travis time to disappear, before heading after Gus. I wasn’t in a rush. Gus was out of danger and all I had to look forward to was him bitching at me the entire drive home.

‘Good trade?’

Could. This. Night. Get. Any. More. Screwed. Up?

I turned slowly.

Quentin stood just inside the alley and I instantly wondered how much he had seen or heard. Gus had been well within the alleyway’s shadows but still … Had Quentin recognised him? Had I said anything that would give us away?

I put my hands on my hips and straightened my back as Quentin stalked towards me. Curiously, he wasn’t stumbling now.

When he got close enough, he smirked and raised his eyebrows. ‘Desperate, huh?’