Freaks Under Fire Read online

  The door handle rattled and Caro hissed, “Tell my brother to quit doing whatever he’s doing to you behind that locked door—which is totally, like, ewwww to even think about, by the way.”

  “Shit.” Tyler leaped from the bed and grabbed for his clothes.

  “Her timing is appalling,” Jay murmured.

  “I’ll say.”

  Jay climbed from the bed, peripherally aware the first item of “clothing” Tyler donned was the wristwatch she’d presented to him when he’d completed his first semester of college. He only removed the watch to bathe. Or, as recent events had proven, during periods of intimacy—he’d been concerned about the strap scraping her skin as he’d explored her body. Pleasure coursed through her at this evidence of how he valued her gift.

  “Get your butt out here, Jay!” Caro’s hiss was louder this time. “And you, too, Tyler! And where’s that puppy? He’d better not be in there with you, coz if he’s been watching you two getting it on he’ll be scarred for life, and no way am I paying for a puppy psychologist!”

  Of course, the pup chose that moment to wake and attempt to clamber from the drawer.

  Jay rushed to save him from a fall. And just as she reached the pup and lifted him from the nest of t-shirts, he peed all over both her and the contents of the drawer.

  “Ah, Tyler?”

  He zipped the fly of his jeans and glanced up. “What’s wr—? Ah, crap.”

  “It wasn’t crap, it was urine,” Jay retorted. “And a considerable amount of it for such a diminutive creature. You’ll need to launder all the clothes in your top drawer.”

  “What’s going on in there?” Caro rattled the door handle again.

  “Go away!” Tyler’s shout was muffled as he pulled his t-shirt over his head. “We’ll be down in a minute.”

  Jay strode to the door, unlocked it, and opened it enough to thrust the pup at Tyler’s sister. “Please take him outside and introduce him to a convenient bush. Now.”

  Caro wrinkled her nose and gingerly took possession of the pup. “Oh dear. Did he—?” Her eyes rounded, and she bit her lips against a grin as she registered Jay’s lack of clothing. “Wow. Um, take as long as you need, okay. And feel free to borrow a change of clothes.”

  “Thank you.” Jay shut the door against Caro’s laughter, and considered what might have been meant by that muttered, “About freaking time!” that she had clearly heard amid more squeals of mirth.

  She replayed Caro’s reaction but without more data, attempting to ascertain whether Caro’s “Wow” had referred to Jay’s state of undress, the fact that the pup’s bladder had contained so much urine, or what Caro believed Jay and Tyler had gotten up to, was futile. Besides, knowing Caro as Jay did, working through the many possible implications of that muttered “About freaking time!” would likely have given Jay a headache had she been human.

  She found herself staring at the closed bedroom door, and shook her head, wondering at her lack of focus. Sex was reputed to scramble one’s brains, and she now had more than mere anecdotal evidence to support the claim. “The sooner we take that puppy home so I can train him properly, the better,” she announced, simply from the need to have something sensible to say.

  Tyler snatched a t-shirt from a pile of clothing he’d tossed beside his bed and used it to wipe her down. “Uck. I think you might need a shower.” He dumped the contents of the drawer, and the t-shirt, atop a used towel and bundled it up.

  Jay inhaled through her nose. The odor of canine urine wafted to her. “I believe you are correct.”

  Tyler stuck his head out the doorway and then gave her an All Clear signal. And as she exited the bedroom to make a dash for the bathroom, he smacked her lightly on the buttocks. “Maybe I’ll join you,” he said.

  “Maybe I’ll even let you.” Jay tossed the comment over her shoulder. And, when she was duly rewarded with a sharp inhalation and the patter of footsteps racing after her, her lips curved in what humans might consider a very wicked smile indeed.

  Chapter Four

  Jay poked her head out of the shower cubicle and pressed a finger to her lips to indicate Tyler should remain silent.

  What the—? He shot her a quizzical glance and then the light bulb went on. “Caro’s eavesdropping isn’t she?” he hissed. Brat. His sister was gonna be very sorry for a very long time.

  She shook her head. “It’s your father.”

  Tyler gulped, scrambled back into his pants, and shot a glance at the bathroom door. A few minutes later and…. He shuddered. What his father would have heard didn’t bear thinking about. Bad enough getting caught in the bathroom fully dressed while Jay was naked as the day she was born. Uh, make that created.

  “Do I have time to get out of here without being spotted?” he asked.

  “No. But if you’re looking for an excuse to be in here while I am unclothed, simply tell the truth—that the pup urinated all over me and you were bringing me fresh clothing.”

  Tyler nodded enthusiastically. Yeah that’d work.

  “It’ll be more convincing if you zip the fly of your jeans,” Jay murmured, and then she ducked beneath the shower spray, shutting the cubicle door behind her.

  Jee-zus. Tyler fumbled with his zipper, and nearly jumped out of his skin when his dad asked, “Jay, you in there?” The question was followed by a soft knock that was a token politeness at best, because his dad didn’t wait for an answer before trying the handle of the bathroom door. “I need to speak to you. It’s urgent.”

  Tyler flipped the lock and opened his mouth to present his excuse, but before he could speak, his dad said, “You’re here, too? Good. Saves me coming looking for you.”

  His father strode up to the cubicle to tap on the door. “Keep the water running, Jay,” he ordered. “Less chance of being overheard that way.”

  The cubicle door cracked a couple of inches and Jay stuck out a hand. “Pass me a towel, please? I can hear easily enough over the running water if you lower your voices, but it will be difficult for you to reciprocate.”

  Tyler’s dad passed her a towel, and she emerged a few seconds later with it wrapped around her torso.

  The steam had turned her hair to ringlets. Droplets of water clung to her eyelashes and glossed her skin. Tyler knew Jay’s looks were the result of her creator’s vision and skill rather than a happy genetic accident, but despite all that, despite everything he knew about her, at times like this Jay’s beauty was like a sucker punch to the gut that left him breathless. It had been this way ever since he’d glimpsed her on her first day at Greenfield High, waiting for her class schedule. And the fact she’d chosen him, Tyler Davidson, ex-jock-god fallen from grace relegated to the bottom of the pecking order, when she could have crooked her little finger and had any guy she’d wanted? Yeah. It still amazed him. As did the fact she’d chosen to stay.

  Tyler wasn’t the only one affected. His dad’s eyes had a glazed look about them. And was that—?

  Yep, his jaw was agape.

  He blinked, and shot a gaze at Tyler that seemed to say, “Sorry, my bad. But hell, you’re one lucky sonuvagun.”

  Tyler had to agree. And he couldn’t fault his dad for being gob-smacked. Each time he spotted Jay wandering around partially clad, Tyler nearly swallowed his tongue. Or walked into a wall. Or spilled a drink down himself. God only knew how Allen and McPhee and the rest of the all-male painting group managed to put brush to canvas when Jay modeled for them.

  Jay scooped up the necklace she’d left on the vanity unit and fastened it about her throat before flicking the extractor fan switch up a gear to dispel the steam that had accumulated. “I’ve turned the hot water off,” she said. “There’s no point wasting further resources. What’s so imperative that it can’t wait until I’ve showered and gotten rid of all the puppy pee, Michael?”

  Tyler couldn’t help grinning as he watched his dad scramble to kick-start his brain… and cover the fact he’d been caught staring at his son’s girlfriend by loudly clearing his
throat.

  “Are you incubating a virus?” Jay asked. “You appear very pale.”

  Tyler’s dad waved away her comment. “Either the puppy has Houdini tendencies and should henceforth be named Digger, or we have a big problem. I’ve a horrible suspicion it’s the latter.”

  Jay’s brow wrinkled and her killer-blue eyes narrowed. “I’m afraid I’m not following you, Michael. If my puppy managed to escape the house and dig a hole in the backyard, I can rectify any damage caused. I fail to see how any hole a pup of its age could possibly dig would constitute an insurmountable problem.”

  “It’s not the hole,” Tyler’s dad said. “It’s what used to be buried in the hole.”

  A chill of presentiment licked Tyler’s spine. Shit. Please don’t let me be right about this. “Could, ah, Digger, have buried it somewhere else?” he asked. “Have you checked?”

  “For the record, I am not naming the puppy Digger,” Jay interjected. “And if this missing object that has you both so concerned has been reburied elsewhere in the yard, I’m sure I will be able to locate it for you. All I require is a description—”

  “You don’t think the puppy dug it up,” Tyler said to his dad. “You think it was taken by someone who knew exactly what they were looking for.”

  “Yep. That’s what I think.”

  Tyler rubbed the bridge of his nose, his mind whirling with worst-case scenarios. Nausea churned in his gut. This was bad—real bad. “Fuck.”

  “My thoughts exactly.” His dad pressed a fist to his stomach, as though his gut pained him. His face looked pinched with worry. And Tyler figured that right now, his own expression would be a perfect mirror of his dad’s.

  Jay uttered a noise that successfully conveyed frustration. “Will one of you please tell me about this missing object that has you both so spooked? Or will I have to pick you both up by the scruffs of your necks and shake it out of you? Which will necessitate dropping this towel, thereby causing you both extreme embarrassment.”

  Her attempt at humor missed the mark. Tyler couldn’t look her in the eye. After everything she’d done to keep them safe, the past was again coming back to bite them all in the ass. “Dad found the hand you planted at the explosion site to make everyone think you’d been blown to bits. He brought it back and gave it to me—to prove you were gone. We had a ceremony in the backyard to bury your remains.”

  “And that hand is now missing.”

  “Yes.”

  “Ah.” Jay nodded. “Now I understand your concerns.”

  Tyler wanted to punch his stupid-ass former self in the face. “We thought you were dead. There was no body to bury and I…. Hell, I just needed some closure. And when you came back into my life, I had other things on my mind. Shit, Jay, I can’t believe I didn’t think to tell you—so you could dig it up and destroy it, or something. This is my fault.”

  “We are equally to blame, Tyler. I knew exactly what had been done with the decoy hand I constructed. I watched you bury it.”

  He lifted his chin, a part of him refusing to believe what he was hearing. “You were watching?”

  “Yes.” She folded her arms across her chest.

  Wow. Tyler didn’t know what to say—or think for that matter. This was heavy stuff. He would need some time to—

  “Let it go,” his dad said. “You know why Jay couldn’t risk revealing herself at that time.”

  Tyler’s throat was too tight to speak but he managed a terse nod of acknowledgement. Of course, he understood Jay’s reasons. But, as the memories of that dark time in his life hovered, waiting to pounce and drag him under again, it was damn hard to fight the remembered anguish—hard not to feel…. Betrayed. She’d watched him bury what they’d all believed were her sole remains. She’d witnessed how gutted he’d been to lose her, witnessed his pain. And yet she’d remained hidden, silent.

  As though reading his mind she said quietly, “I did as much as I dared to give you hope, Tyler.”

  His gaze strayed to the thumb drive nestled in her cleavage. She’d threaded it on a heavy silver chain and now wore it as a necklace. The only time she removed it was to bathe. That thumb drive stored only one file—a song he’d written and recorded for her. He’d hidden the drive alongside the spare house key before he and his family had fled Snapperton because he hadn’t been able to bring himself to believe she was gone, and had hoped for a miracle. And when his family dared return home, and he’d discovered the thumb drive missing, it had given him hope. Even if it had begun to die in the months that had followed before Jay’d shown up to rock his world all over again, that hope had been a precious thing. He’d been a mess, but it would have been so much worse without that small hope to cling to.

  Jay was right: She’d done what she could to let him know she’d survived. Anything more would have endangered them all. He had no right to be pissed at her.

  “I could have refused to let you bury the damned thing.” Tyler’s dad raked a hand through his hair and sighed. He exuded a deep-seated weariness that had Tyler secretly worried.

  “I should never have brought it home,” his dad continued. “But I figured it was safer than leaving it lying around for just anyone to find. And it seemed wrong to leave even a part of you behind after everything you’d done for us, Jay.”

  “Thank you, Michael.” Jay’s slow nod seemed to both acknowledge and dismiss a fraught past that had transformed Mike Davidson into Michael White, a man ripped from his family because of his unique skills, and blackmailed into hunting Cyborg Unit Gamma-Dash-One, AKA Jay Smith and more recently, Jaime Smythson.

  “You must be aware that I could have dug up the hand and disposed of it at any time, with none of you any the wiser,” Jay said. “I chose to leave it buried there because it….” She appeared to be searching for the right words. “It comforted me to know that you mourned me—a machine. It gave me hope. It gave me a reason to fight for a dream when it would have been far more logical to inter myself somewhere and shut down for a few decades until the danger to you all had passed.”

  Tyler gulped. She seemed calm enough on the surface but her eyes shone with unshed tears. He knew how hard it had been for him, believing that Jay had sacrificed herself to save them and been destroyed in the bomb blast.

  Burying her remains. Discovering a sign she might have survived. Hoping, praying that she would come back to him. And then, when she hadn’t, trying to accept her loss and move on. For his then seventeen-year-old self, those months without her had seemed like a lifetime. But he’d never considered how hard it might have been for Jay. He had presumed she’d simply gotten on with covering her tracks, deleting her previous identity from public record, tidying up loose ends. He hadn’t considered that she, too, might have suffered emotionally.

  God, he’d been a fool—and a selfish one at that, thinking only of himself. At least he’d had his family to help ground him. Jay’d had no one.

  She placed her hand on his arm, yanking him from a mire of self-recriminations. “None of you are to blame for my illogical decisions,” she said. “But there is now considerably more to be considered than merely a missing cybernetic hand.” She rubbed an eyebrow—the gesture so intrinsically human that Tyler’s heart flip-flopped. “I need to get dressed and we need to talk. All of us. No exceptions.”

  Tyler’s dad shifted uneasily. “But—”

  She made a slicing motion with her hand to silence his protest. “No buts, Michael. It’s not right to keep the full truth from Marissa any longer. We need to tell her everything—just as I need to tell all of you what happened after Sixer left. I want everyone to have all the facts before any decisions are made.”

  “You’re right.” Tyler’s dad nodded slowly, and Tyler thought he seemed relieved.

  No surprises there. Tyler both understood and agreed with the reasoning behind keeping the full truth from his mother and his sister, but it hadn’t sat well with him. He didn’t like secrets. He’d kept a few big ones himself. He knew firsthand how sec
rets destroyed trust and ruined lives. Keeping this one must have been doubly hard for his dad. But even though Jay happened to be right, didn’t mean it was gonna be easy coming clean. Jay’s actions might have made it possible for Tyler’s dad to return to his family, but Tyler’s mom had taken a long time to trust her husband again. His parents’ relationship was still fragile. And Jay’s relationship with Tyler’s mom was still pretty damned rocky, too, which made things real awkward.

  On his mom’s part, Tyler got the impression fear was the main reason she was playing nice, rather than any real desire to have Jay be a permanent part of their lives. He’d made it crystal clear that if she badmouthed Jay again, or tried to force a choice between her and Jay, the shit was gonna hit the fan big-time. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but right now, observing Jay’s carefully expressionless face, he was afraid it might.

  And he was afraid, too, of something he was barely able to acknowledge: that Jay might take the choice from him. If she concluded that her presence threatened their safety, she would leave… and there would be nothing Tyler could do to stop her.

  “I’ll be down in five minutes,” Jay said, her crisp no-nonsense tone a clear dismissal.

  Tyler’s dad left without a word but Tyler lingered, half-expecting Jay to at least hint what she planned to discuss.

  “You, too, Tyler,” she told him. “Go put the clothes through the washer before you forget and they’re irredeemable. I’ll be down shortly.”

  He frowned at her, unease churning in his belly. “Are you okay, Jay?”

  When she finally answered, her voice was small and thin and wholly unlike the capable Jay she usually presented to the world. “No, Tyler, I’m not okay. I believe… I might be scared?”

  He opened his arms and moved, meeting her halfway as she stumbled into his embrace and wound her arms about his back to hold him tight against her. She buried her face in the crook of his shoulder and he could feel her shaking. He wasn’t sure he wanted to ask but he had to know so he forced the question from his tight, aching throat. “What are you scared of?”