Freaks in the City
FREAKS IN THE CITY
By Maree Anderson
The sequel to the multi-award winning Freaks of Greenfield High (optioned for TV by Cream Drama, Inc.)
True love isn’t a cake-walk when your girlfriend’s a cyborg.
The timing couldn’t be worse for Jay to take her relationship with Tyler to the next level—especially when her idea of “the next level” proves to be vastly different to Tyler’s. Building a life together and adapting to each other’s quirks is challenging enough without the secrets they’re keeping blowing up in their faces. Their relationship is tearing Tyler’s family apart. Worse, Tyler’s ex-girlfriend from hell shows up on their doorstep, destitute and desperate for a place to stay until she sorts out the latest hot mess she’s embroiled in.
Jay’s not exactly thrilled about Tyler’s ex turning up out of the blue, but it’s better to keep your enemies close, right? Sure enough, the ex has an agenda. But discovering who is manipulating her behind the scenes isn’t easy, even for a super-smart computer-savvy cyborg.
Then a vulnerable member of Tyler’s family is threatened, forcing Jay to confront a ghost from her past who’ll stop at nothing to destroy her. And this time, the weapon he’s chosen to take Jay out really could be the death of her.
~~~
FREAKS IN THE CITY
Copyright 2012 by Maree Anderson
Published by Maree Anderson at Smashwords
Cover Design by Rob Anderson
Formatting by Rob Anderson
This novel is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places and events portrayed in this novel are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. All rights reserved; the right to reproduce this book or any portion thereof in any form whatsoever in any country whatsoever without the express permission of the author is forbidden.
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Smashwords Edition License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy.
Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
~~~
Dedication
To my fans:
Freaks in the City would never have been written if not for your support. If you hadn’t DMed and emailed me to say how much you all loved Jay and Tyler in Freaks of Greenfield High, and begged for a sequel, this story would still be locked inside my head. You all rock. Thank you!
P.S. this story takes Jay and Tyler’s relationship to the next level—enjoy!
M.A.
~~~
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
About the Author
Other Books—Freaks of Greenfield High
Other Books—The Crystal Warrior
Other Books—Ruby’s Dream
Other Books—Jade’s Choice
Other Books—Lightning Rider
~~~
Prologue
Mike Davidson slanted a quick gaze at his wife, noting her tightly pursed lips and ominous frown before he turned his attention to the road again. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. Just because he’s staying over at Jaime’s doesn’t mean he’s moved in with her.”
Marissa’s snort told him exactly what she thought of that line of reasoning. “I knew he was hiding something,” she said.
Mike winced at her acerbic tone. Now he was even less convinced surprising Tyler and his mysterious girlfriend with an unexpected visit was a great idea. But they hadn’t seen their son in months, so Mike had given in to Marissa’s wishes—as he always seemed to these days. And after driving all this way the “surprise” had gone awry because Tyler hadn’t been home. They’d had to beg his girlfriend’s address from one of his roommates.
Mike tightened his hands on the steering wheel. Might be a good time for a father-son chat. Especially given the situation he and Marissa now found themselves in. If it could happen to them, it could happen to anyone.
He turned into Parkway and couldn’t help a stab of envy. Jaime’s folks obviously had money. And as if to rub salt into the wound, as he headed down the street the split unit brownstones segued to even more envy-inducing singles. Sure would explain Tyler’s evasiveness whenever they’d asked after Jaime. He was probably embarrassed as heck over dating a trust fund baby.
Mike slowed his speed to a crawl and pointed out Number 64 to Marissa. “That’s the one.”
Marissa twisted in her seat to peer back at the house. “Nice.” She didn’t volunteer anything more as they pulled into a parking space, but Mike knew from the way her gaze had lingered that she was impressed.
She linked her arm in his as they strolled up the street. Out front of Number 64 she paused on the sidewalk to smooth her hair and tweak the hem of the smart top she wore over her jeans. “Wonder what she’s like,” Mike heard her mutter.
“Knowing Tyler, she’ll be a sweet kid.”
Marissa gave him “You gotta be kidding me” eyes and Mike threw her a wry grin. She had a point. Tyler’s first serious girlfriend, Nessa, had been a disaster what with the lies she’d spread about Tyler, and that shocking business over her dealing drugs. Marissa had confessed to being relieved as all heck when Nessa dumped Tyler for another boy she could lead around by her too-short shorts. And as for Jay….
There’d been nothing remotely amusing about Jay. Tyler had been a mess for months afterward. And although Mike felt like the crappiest human being on the planet for even thinking this after everything Jay had sacrificed, it was probably just as well she’d died. There’d been no possible way her relationship with Tyler could have ended well.
“Here’s hoping the third girlfriend’s the charm,” Marissa said, obviously thinking along the same lines.
They both pasted smiles on their faces as they walked up the neat cobblestoned path to the front door. To the left of the entrance alcove was a discreet security pad and speaker. Mike buzzed and waited for a response.
A voice demanded, “Who is it, please?”
The hairs on the back of Mike’s neck rose.
He sneaked a look at his wife. Marissa was impatiently shifting her weight from foot to foot, grimacing, and probably wishing she’d worn more comfortable shoes. He wondered whether he should forewarn her, but before he could think of what to say, or how to say it, Marissa leaned over and spoke into the speaker. “Jaime? It’s Tyler’s mom and dad. Is he there?”
“One moment, please.”
Mike squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping he was wrong.
When the door opened and he heard Marissa’s shocked hiss, he knew he hadn’t been mistaken. He slowly opened his eyes to stare into the inhumanly blue gaze of Jay Smith, the girl who’d turned their lives upside down, given Mike back his life and his family, and stolen his son’s heart.
Jay Smith. Jaime Smythson
. Obvious now he thought about it. He should have known Jay hadn’t died in the explosion. She was a cyborg, after all. And as Mike well knew, cyborgs were very hard to kill.
~~~
Jay had warned Tyler of the high probability his parents would take matters into their own hands if he continued to be so evasive about “Jaime”. She could have claimed Tyler wasn’t at home and made some excuse for not introducing herself to his parents at this particular time. But such prevarications would have only delayed the inevitable. Far better to get it over with fast and quick to minimize the pain—just like the human analogy of ripping off a Band-Aid.
“Well,” she said to her not-so-unexpected visitors. “This is awkward.”
Marissa opened her mouth but any words she’d been about to say appeared to be locked tight in her throat. Michael puffed out a sharp breath that wasn’t quite a laugh. “You can say that again,” he said.
Not so long ago, Jay might have stated that she was indeed capable of repeating herself. Word for word. With the exact same intonation and inflection, in fact. Now she knew better than to take such statements literally. She stood aside and said, “Would you like to come in?”
When Marissa hesitated, Jay followed up with a gentle verbal nudge. “After driving all this way, it seems a shame to turn around and leave.” She graciously pretended not to notice when Michael made the decision for his wife by means of a firm hand to the small of Marissa’s back.
She closed the door behind her guests and ushered them through into the living room. The staccato taps of Marissa’s boot-heels on the polished wooden floorboards sounded angry—rather like Marissa’s expression now she’d gotten over the initial shock of realizing that “Jaime” was in fact Jay.… And realized that Tyler had effectively been lying by omission all this time. Not a small lie, either. This was big.
Jay nibbled her lower lip—a gesture she’d picked up from Tyler’s twin sister, Caro, that seemed to suit this current situation admirably. She’d been foolish to merely age herself two years to keep in step with Tyler’s natural human aging process. It would have been prudent—safer—to have made more drastic alterations to her appearance to ensure she could not be recognized by his family. But all logic had been overshadowed by her need for Tyler to instantly recognize her again.
He had that effect on her. He always had—from the very first time she’d encountered him in his junior year at Greenfield High.
“Please sit down.” She indicated the leather couches and two matching recliners grouped in a pleasing arrangement around an old mahogany coffee table. Jay had restored the table herself, and then burnished its pitted and scarred wood to a high sheen. She’d even go so far as to state she was proud of it. At least she presumed the warm glow she felt whenever she stroked a palm over its surface was pride.
Michael chose one of the couches. He appeared relaxed—on the surface anyway. Marissa perched next to him, hands clasped in her lap. Her gaze darted around the room, lingering every now and then on furnishings or pieces of artwork. Jay suspected Marissa’s interest was more an excuse not to look her son’s girlfriend in the eye than any real interest in Jay’s taste in interior design.
She stifled a sigh. Given his parents’ reaction, she wasn’t looking forward to confessing the truth to Tyler’s sister. Friends didn’t fake their own deaths and then conceal their identities. Caro was going to be hurt and angry when she found out. And now her parents knew the truth, Jay guessed it would not be long before Caro became privy to the information. She wouldn’t blame Caro for never speaking to her again.
“Can I offer you refreshments?”
“I’d kill for a beer,” Mike said.
“I don’t keep alcohol on the premises,” Jay told him. “Tyler’s underage and alcohol has little effect on me.” Although she could appreciate a fine wine as much as any avid connoisseur.
“Oh. Right. Of course.”
“Where is Tyler?” Marissa’s question came at the exact time as Michael said, “Your hair is different.”
“Yes. I’m told the color is chestnut.” She’d grown in the new color gradually, subtly threading the new shade through the black. The entire change had taken six weeks. She’d also adjusted the melanin levels of her dermis to better suit her new hair color. Her lips curved upward, recalling Tyler telling her she looked “sun-kissed”… and following up with a real kiss that had left her as breathless as it was possible for a cyborg to be.
“Suits you,” Michael said. “I like it.”
“Thank you, Mr. Davidson. Tyler likes it, too.”
Because it would be impolite not to respond, Jay addressed Marissa’s question. “I estimate Tyler will make an appearance in approximately eight minutes.” She added the “approximately” because although she could extrapolate the time he would take based on previous data, habitual human behaviors were not immutable. Today Tyler might decide on a whim to change his habits.
To cover the awkward silence that had fallen she headed for the fridge to grab three sodas. She offered Michael a cola and Marissa a cream soda, before taking the kitty-corner easy chair and popping the lid on her own cola.
Tyler’s mother glanced at the canned drink. “How do you know I like—?” She pressed her lips together and then after a pause muttered, “Never mind.”
Michael read the ingredients list on his soda can.
Marissa twisted her wedding ring around and around on her finger.
Jay took another sip of her cola. Her enhanced hearing informed her the exact moment Tyler exited the bathroom. His bare feet made soft slaps on the floorboards as he headed toward the bedroom. She debated calling out to warn him, but some perverse, almost humanlike part of her decided to hold her tongue. What was that human saying again? Oh yes: Tyler had made his bed, now he’d have to lie in it.
Marissa broke the silence. “We thought you were dead. You could have gone anywhere in the world. Why here, Jay?”
Jay cocked her head as she analyzed Marissa’s body language and expressions for clues that would inform her how best to respond. In the end she opted for the stark truth. “I couldn’t stay away from him. I tried, but I couldn’t.”
“You should have tried harder.”
“Perhaps.”
“He was getting over you. He’d moved on.”
Michael shifted in his seat and carefully placed his soda on the coffee table. Jay appreciated him using the coaster. Otherwise she might have been compelled to blot the condensation with the hem of her t-shirt and polish away any mark left on the wood.
“That’s not entirely true, Riss,” Michael said. “You only needed to hear that song he wrote to know he wasn’t getting over her any time soon.”
Jay’s hand crept to the thumb drive she wore on a silver chain around her neck.
Michael’s sharp gaze intercepted the movement. And from the almost imperceptible widening of his eyes, Jay deduced he understood its significance.
Tyler had recorded a song he’d written for her on this thumb drive, and hidden it before he and his family had fled Snapperton in the wake of Jay’s supposed death. By removing the thumb drive from its hiding place, Jay had attempted to send a clear message to Tyler that he shouldn’t lose all hope, that she had somehow survived—despite all evidence to the contrary. And that she might one day come back to him.
“Rubbish.” Marissa’s tone vibrated with poorly concealed fury at Michael refusing to back her up. “It was a crush. All kids his age have them.”
Jay decided it was time to tender an apology to defuse the situation. “I wanted to tell you that I’d faked my death but I couldn’t risk it until I’d ensured your safety. And then Tyler asked me not to. I’m sorry if you feel betrayed.”
“Does Caro know?” Marissa asked, her expression promising dire consequences if her daughter had been in on the secret.
“No,” Jay said.
“Good. Keep it that way. She doesn’t need to be drawn into this mess.” Marissa’s face twisted into an expressio
n that combined worry and anger. “If you’re so concerned about our safety you should have stayed away from Tyler. You should have left him to live a normal life, with a normal girl. You should never have come back.”
Michael leaned over to squeeze his wife’s wrist. “That’s hardly fair, Riss. You could say the same about me. Would you have preferred me to stay away and never come near you or our kids again?”
She shook off his hand. “That’s different and you know it, Mike! You were forced to leave to keep us safe. You had no choice.”
“Neither did I,” Jay murmured, and Michael shot her a sympathetic glance.
They both knew how it was to feel helpless when the people you loved were threatened. And they both knew how easy it was to be compelled to act in ways that ran contrary to your core beliefs. Michael had been forced to work for a ruthless, amoral man in order to keep his family safe. And Jay had been compelled to kill her creator to keep his secrets from falling into the hands of that very same ruthless, amoral man. Such actions were beyond Marissa’s sphere of comprehension. She should be grateful for that.
Marissa seemed to sense the empathy oozing from Michael and she didn’t appreciate it one iota. “Don’t give me that. It’s bullshit.”
Jay knew Marissa didn’t approve of swearing, so her choice of words only highlighted her extreme agitation.
“You’re a cyborg, Jay—a superhuman machine. You can do what the hell you want.”