Losing Nuka (Litmus Book 1) (9 page)

“Rare name. That’s all,” he says with a shrug. “Catch ya later, Brett.” He turns on his heel and walks towards the doors. “I would apologise for kicking your ass … but you know that’s not my style,” he adds over his shoulder before leaving.

“He seems …”

“Like a dick?” Brett says.

“That’s putting it nicely. So, how are you?”

Brett laughs. “You came down here to see how I am?”

“Well, like Taser said, he did just kick your ass.”

“Call him Brayden. Taser’s a stupid name.”

“Oh, okay,
Brawn
.”

“Yeah, I’m not a fan of that one, either.”

“Why do you do it?” I ask quietly.

“Do what?”

“Don’t act dumb. You know what I’m asking.”

“Keeping my head above water, Nuke.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Of course, you don’t,” he says with a sigh. “I knew you’d get like this. I told them you wouldn’t be interested.”

“Then explain it to me.”

“Come out with me tomorrow.”

“Wha … what?” My mouth goes dry for some stupid reason.

He rolls his eyes. “Not on a date. I want to show you something.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“Not a date,” he repeats himself.

The door opens and Drake pops his head in. “Nuka, I’ve been ordered to take you and Sasha home.”

“I’ll pick you up in the morning,” Brett says.

“Uh, we live in the same house.”

“Exactly. I won’t have to go far,” he says with a smile before wincing in pain.

“Rough go, bro,” Drake says, approaching us. “Glad to see he didn’t ruin your pretty face.”

“Piss off, Drake,” Brett retorts before facing me. “See you in the morning, Nuke.”

-8-

NOT A DATE

“So where are we going?” I ask, getting into Brett’s car.

“Nowhere fun, so don’t sound so excited,” he says, sliding into the driver’s seat ever so cautiously, trying not to wince.

“So is this what you meant by you’ve dealt with worse than when I burnt you?”

“All part of the job.”

“Okay, so what
is
your job? You’re head of home security and then moonlight as an illegal street fighter?”

“Jonas and Cade are my owners. If—”

“
Owners?
”

“It’s their word. They’re more like my managers. You know how professional athletes have managers and agents and all that? They do that for me. If I do a good job for them, they pay me well. Once I get rid of my debts, I can stop and then do something I enjoy.”

“What debts do you have?”

“That’s a bit of a personal question, isn’t it?” When I don’t respond, he sighs and continues. “This car, some student loans”—he shrugs—“living expenses.”

“Student loans? You went to uni?” I ask, a little surprised.

“Yes. Muscle man read good,” he replies in a caveman voice.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just … the way you talk about Defectives—”

“You know where a business degree gets you when you’re Defective? Absolutely nowhere. No one would hire me. So now I’m in debt
and
I’m an undesirable employee. Cade and Jonas took me in, offered me the security job if I’d fight for them. It was an offer I couldn’t refuse. I get two wages and the work is easy. It’s just …”

“You don’t enjoy it.”

“I should only need to do this a little longer and then I’ll be free.”

“What living expenses? Cade and Jonas give you everything.”

“Are you going to be asking me questions all day? Don’t make me regret bringing you.”

“Bringing me
where?
” I ask as we start heading out of the city.

“We’re going to my house. My real house.”

“In one of the housing Estates?”

Brett scoffs. “You make it sound like a country club. I can assure you, it’s not.”

Sensing that our conversation is over, I remain quiet. Until I can’t anymore. “Okay, so why
this
car. I don’t get it. It’s a million years old. It still runs on petrol. Surely, this car is worth a lot? You could sell it and be debt free. There’d be a heap of people interested who collect those sorts of things. Doesn’t the petrol alone cost an arm and a leg? Didn’t we practically run out of that stuff decades ago? Why don’t you have an electric car like everyone else?”

“Yup. Regretting this.” Sighing again, he glances at me and then looks back at the road. “This car belonged to my dad. He died almost five years ago now, and I don’t have the heart to sell it. It doesn’t actually run on petrol, Dad spent the money converting it to electric … well, he borrowed the money to convert it. It’s been in our family for generations, so even when he got sick, he still refused to sell it—even though that money could’ve paid for his treatment. He didn’t like that all the new cars are the same shape, but it was more than that. He loved this two-door coupe more than me and my sister combined, probably. I can’t get rid of it to pay off my debts, just because I wanted to get a degree.”

“Oh … sorry. If I had something of my dad’s, I’d want to keep it, too.”

“Paxton James, right? It sucks what happened to him. He really wanted to do right by us.”

“Or so everyone thinks,” I mumble.

“What do you mean?”

“Cade says he wasn’t the guy everyone thought he was, that he was mean. And my adoptive mother would never talk about him. She’d clam up anytime he was mentioned. It wasn’t obvious to me at first, but when I found out about who I truly was, that’s when I noticed how anxious she got whenever he was mentioned. I thought she was just purposefully being a bitch and not telling me because she knew I was going to leave them. Then, one night, I overheard my adoptive dad consoling her that she did the right thing by hiding the truth from me. That they were protecting me.”

“Did you ask them what they meant?”

“What do you think?”

“I think you ran.”

My lack of reply is answer enough.

“Well, you’ll never know unless you ask them.”

“Thanks for stating the obvious, but that would involve talking to them.”

“You’re really stubborn, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I’ve been told that. I wonder if I get it from my dad … oh wait, I wouldn’t know.”

“I’m sensing some pretty deep daddy issues here.”

“Please. I have so many daddy issues it’s surprising I’m not working a stripper pole. Although, what they made me wear at Litmus last night came pretty close.”

Brett laughs, and I can’t help chuckling with him.

The laughter and smiles fade when we pull into a suburb. On each side of the street, houses are boarded up. The remnants of a burnt car sit in one of the front yards. On the other side, a few doors down, is the remains of what was once a home, now only a burnt shell.

“Not the glamorous country club you were expecting?” Brett asks.

I swallow hard. “No.”

As we move farther into the Estate, the more together the houses seem to be. More people fill the footpaths, each of them staring us down as we drive by them.

“Isn’t it dangerous bringing this car here? Won’t it … you know … get stolen or something?”

“Because every poor person must be a criminal, right?”

“I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just … everyone’s staring.”

“I haven’t been home in a while. They’re probably just surprised to see me.”

“So these are your friends?”

“No. Just neighbours.”

We’re driving slowly through the narrow, cracked street, and as we continue to drive, I have to force myself to ignore my instincts and refrain from locking my door. It’s probably politically incorrect—like Brett said, they’re just poor, they aren’t criminals. I don’t want to offend Brett, but I’m more scared right now than when I squatted for a night.

Will never do that again.
Declan was with Cassia, so I couldn’t stay at his. I had refused to go home to Lia and Jayce’s, and the shelter I occasionally crashed at was full. That was the longest, scariest night of my life.  Yeah, I know self-defence, but that whole night I sat curled up in the corner of the abandoned apartment, just watching the unlocked door and waiting for someone to come in with a gun or a weapon. I wouldn’t have been able to defend myself against that. Ever since then, when I was really stuck for a place, I’d cave and go back home for the night.

There hasn’t been a legitimate reason for me to be scared—just a burnt house and car and then dodgy-looking people on the street, but even though nothing has happened, the uneasy feeling doesn’t leave me. I tell myself it’s because I lived a sheltered childhood and I just haven’t been around poor people.
Wow, could I be any more of a snob?

We turn into another street on our right, a short cul-de-sac. Brett pulls the car into a driveway on our left, in front of an older-looking house. Unlike the others in this area, this house is well kept.

“I apologise in advance for everything you’re about to endure.” His tone implies he’s joking, but given the neighbourhood, I begin to get a little nervous.

Getting out of the car and taking my hand, Brett leads me to the front door where he proceeds to unlock three of the six deadbolts and opens the door. He smiles at my questioning glare.

“Six locks—if you only lock three, unless a burglar knows which three you’ve locked, they’ll never get in.”

“Smart,” I say in awe.

“Nanna, I’m home,” he calls out.

Nanna?

“Brett?” A woman’s voice travels down the hallway.

Brett gestures to the couch in the small living room. I shake my head, surprisingly unwilling to leave his side. An older woman wipes her hands on a dishtowel in the kitchen before making her way down the hall to meet us.

The small woman barrels towards Brett, throwing her frail arms around his masculine frame.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home?” She glances at me. “And bringing someone with you?” She extends her hand to me, and I give it a light shake. “He’s never brought a girl home before, you know,” she says with a wink.

“Uh … I—”

“It’s not like that, Nanna. It’s my job to protect her. Nanna, this is Nuka. Nuka, this is Silver Finley.”

“Silver? Like the metal?” I ask.

“My parents liked expensive things,” she says. “Come into the kitchen, I’ll make tea.”

She leads us into the dining room, and I take a seat at the small table while Brett helps his nanna in the kitchen. It’s so cute.

She wraps her arms around him again and whispers, “I’m so happy to see you.”

I don’t know if she didn’t want me to hear or not, but I can’t help letting out a little “aww” noise. Brett rolls his eyes at me.

Carrying our cups of tea and a plate of shortbread, Silver joins me at the table and meets my eyes with a smile. “You’re really pretty, you know.”

“Uh …”

“Nanna, stop.”

“I can’t be excited that I’m meeting your lady friend?”

Brett’s face breaks out in a small blush, and I have to hold back a giggle. “It’s not like that, Nanna. She’s just a job.”

Ouch.

“Nonsense. You wouldn’t have brought her to me if you didn’t at least like her.”

“As a
friend,
” Brett says, really emphasising “friend.”

“Of course. That’s what I meant,” Silver says with a sly grin.

“Besides, I’m trying to make a point. She doesn’t know what it’s like out here. I had to show her.”

Silver looks at me with piercing grey eyes. “You’re not Immune, love?”

Clearing my throat, I meet her gaze. “I am. I just … I grew up in the city suburbs. I haven’t been out to the Estates since I was a little kid.”

Silver purses her lips. “Well, they certainly aren’t what they used to be. We moved into this house when they were first setting the Estates up about fourteen … no, fifteen years ago now. It was a good idea, but it didn’t take long for things to change and go south. We’re so far out of the city. It’s hard for people to get jobs and to keep them. There’s not a lot of work in these parts, so to get an honest job, residents here have to travel for up to an hour and a half to two hours away. There needs to be more infrastructure and more projects to build on, but no one wants to build new communities or businesses when the old ones are falling apart and have the crime rate we do.”

Taking a sip of my tea, I try to think of something to say, but I don’t have words. I wonder if Uncle Drew knows how bad things are out here. He’s the one who created these communities.

“So, you grew up in the city, huh? I could tell just by looking at you that you’re a brave soul.”

“Nanna,” Brett whines.

Silver laughs. “I’m just telling it like I see it. Tell me, what was it like going to school in the city?”

I shrug. “I never went to a Defecti—Immune school to begin with, so I didn’t know if I was missing out on anything. It was weird not knowing any other Immunes at school. Well, there were some, but we all made it a point to not hang around each other. Just in case.”

“In case what?” Brett asks.

“In case they thought we were congregating or planning something.”

“So it seems it wasn’t all privilege and easy going for you there, either,” Silver says with a pointed glare at Brett.

“Where’s Paddy?” Brett asks, changing the subject.

“Working,” she replies.

“Who’s Paddy?”

“He’s my nephew,” Brett answers me before turning back to his nanna. “Where is he working?
Why
is he working? He’s thirteen years old.” Now he just seems angry. “Am I not giving you enough money? I can scrape together some more.”

“He’s strong-willed. I wonder where he gets that from,” she replies in a snarky tone. “I’ve tried to stop him, but now he’s in too deep. He’s just trying to provide for his family, like his uncle does.”

Brett closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “What’s he doing?”

“He’s running with the southern crew,” she practically whispers.

“I’ll fix it,” he says with determination. I haven’t known him long, but from what I can tell, if he wants something, he gets it.

“You can’t. I’ve tried.”

“I’m going to do everything I can to fix this. I just need a little time. I’ll buy his way out.”

“You’re already doing so much. I can’t ask you to take Paddy on, too.”

“I promised her I would take care of him. You’re both my responsibility. Sorry to cut this short, but I need to get back,” he says, standing. “Maybe I can sort something out with my owners.”

Silver nods, a single tear falling from her ageing eye. She wipes it away before turning to me. “It was nice meeting you, Nuka. Please keep my boy in check.” She manages a smile, and I force myself to return it. I don’t exactly know what’s going on, but I have fairly good idea, and I know it’s nothing good.