The Nines (The Nines #1) Read online

  She’s no doubt persistent, but she also exudes a warmth and kindness that’s rare these days.

  “Why are you here?” When our eyes meet there’s an energy exchanged between us that I’ve never felt before. There’s a certain sexual chemistry there, but it’s more than that. It’s a knowing, as if we’re part of some long lost tribe, and we’re finally discovering we’re both members.

  She shrugs. It’s an easy gesture, kind of carefree. And I’m a little envious that she seems so comfortable with herself. I never feel comfortable or at ease in my own body. It’s not that I’ve never felt that way. I was as carefree as they come before the bombing. But since the day I was burned I’ve felt like someone took my mind and put it in someone else’s body. Like I’m just visiting in some foreign land. And I keep hoping that someday I’ll be able to return…to my old body…to my old life. But I know it’s nothing more than a twisted fantasy.

  Then she says, “Is the sunlight bothering your eyes? You’re squinting.”

  I quickly shake my head. I don’t want this to end. Whatever this is, this small venture back into normality, I want it to continue.

  I’m actually talking to another human being, a girl no less, and she doesn’t seem to see the burns, or if she does, she doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by them.

  I don’t want this to end.

  “You’re younger than I thought you would be,” she says.

  “I’m twenty.”

  She gives me a quick smile. “Very young.”

  “And how old are you?” I challenge. She could easily pass for sixteen.

  “Eighteen.”

  I want her to smile again. She lights up the space around her gorgeous grin. “Would you like something to drink? I’d ask you to go for coffee or something, but I never go out.”

  “Never?” She sounds surprised.

  “Not unless it’s dark, and then only if I really need to.”

  “But why? This is such a beautiful neighborhood.”

  I want to say: isn’t it obvious? But I also don’t want to scare her away by being rude. And that’s something I’ve become really good at. Especially dealing with criminals on a daily basis. Not that I’m separating myself from the pack. I admit I engage in criminal activity for a living, but for some reason I don’t want her to know that.

  Then it occurs to me that I don’t even know her name. “I’m Alexander.”

  There’s that smile again. “That’s a strong name. Like Alexander the Great. I like it.”

  “And you are?”

  She seems to hesitate for a moment. Then she says, “Roxie Bailey.”

  She doesn’t look like a Roxie. It’s too simple a name for her. Too plain. She’s much too exotic looking to be an ordinary Roxie. “Is Roxie short for something?”

  Her expression changes ever so slightly. If I wasn’t watching her so closely, I might have missed it. She’s become uncomfortable. Then she swallows. “Just Roxie.”

  I can tell she’s lying. I just don’t know why. Why would someone lie about her name? Of course my curiosity is piqued and I want to find out. “You’re a student at the university?”

  This elicits a small laugh. “Is it that obvious?”

  “Kind of.”

  “What about you?”

  “I take some classes. Online.”

  “What do you study?”

  “Computers. And I take some psychology classes.”

  She cocks her head slightly and furrows her brow like she just had a thought. “Ever spend time in the psychology student cyber café?”

  Now I’m the one whose brow is furrowed. I run through all of the regulars who hang out in the cyber café. I’m willing to bet money she’s not BOBBLEHEAD or DOPE. I don’t think she’s FANGURL.

  “You’re AMERICNWOMN?”

  She gives me a grin. “Are you ALXTHEGR8T?”

  I wouldn’t normally reveal my handle. The whole point of using one is to maintain a level of anonymity. But I always felt a strong connection to AMERICNWOMN that I’ve never felt with the other students who regularly hang out there.

  “You really were curious about the so-called masked man, weren’t you? Curious enough to actually find me.”

  “This is so weird.” She shakes her head like she can’t believe it. I can’t believe it either. We’ve been chatting online with each other for months. I never imagined we’d ever meet each other in real life.

  “Isn’t it strange to finally meet someone you’ve been chatting with online?” I ask.

  “Have you ever done that before?”

  “Never.” I take in a breath. “It may not be obvious to you, but I’m not exactly Mr. Social.”

  This makes her laugh again. I’m starting to get very attached to that laugh. And I know it’s probably not healthy or sane. I’m nothing but a curiosity to Roxie. Kind of like an animal in a zoo that you visit for the day and then forget about.

  “Do you want to change that?” When she bats her long lashes at me my heart skips a few beats.

  “Change what?” I croak out.

  “Not being Mr. Social. You did invite me to have a drink with you, remember?”

  Did she really just accept a date with me? Well, maybe not an actual date, but she hinted that she’d have a drink with me.

  My chest tightens and for a moment I feel like I can’t breathe.

  “Are you okay?” she asks.

  I nod. “Yes. Fine. Why?”

  “I don’t know,” she sounds concerned. “You look like you might pass out.”

  “Come inside,” I offer. “I’ll make us some coffee.”

  She hesitates for a moment before she steps inside. Not that I blame her for being hesitant. We don’t actually know each other, even if we feel like we do.

  At least I hope she feels like she knows me. I don’t blame her for being cautious. There are a lot of asshole guys out there.

  “I don’t really drink coffee,” she admits as she tentatively steps over the threshold.

  I quickly move out of the way so she can enter into the living room.

  Her expression changes as she glances around. “Do you live by yourself?”

  “Just me. Why?”

  “I don’t want to be rude, but it kind of looks like a woman lives here.”

  I laugh. “I inherited this place from my aunt. I just haven’t bothered to change anything since she passed away. And I kind of like it. It reminds me of her.”

  “That’s sweet.”

  “No one has ever used that word to describe anything about me,” I admit.

  As she pokes around the place I have two simultaneous emotions. Part of me is surprised that she’s being so nosey. I have to admit that after being alone so long it’s a bit unnerving. But an even bigger part doesn’t want her to stop. She’s invading my personal space in a major way, but it also means I’m intriguing enough for her to take interest.

  I know I’ll never be physically attractive to a woman again, but if she finds me interesting, perhaps we can form some kind of friendship in real life and not just in the virtual world. She hasn’t been completely disgusted by my appearance yet, so that’s a step in the right direction.

  Okay, she’s really nosey. She’s taking her time, looking at all of my aunt’s artwork, souvenirs and treasures collected from her many excursions around the world.

  “I’d like to travel,” Roxie remarks as she examines a Terra Cotta Warrior from China.

  “I thought about it too before…” my voice trails off. I’m not sure how much I want to tell her about my sordid tale.

  “Before what?” When she glances up at me with those big, beautiful brown eyes they hold so much compassion it tugs at my heartstrings in a major way. I can imagine telling her almost anything she asks.

  Okay, maybe I would actually tell her anything she asked. Even the secret things I never want anyone to know. Like how I make all of my money.

  “Before I was burned.”

  She nods, but it feels like
she has more to ask. There’s uncertainty still floating in the air between us. So I add, “I don’t like to talk about it that much.”

  Her finger slides very gently along the edge of a bookshelf filled with art books. She seems like the type of person who has to take something in with all of her senses. A truly passionate soul in all facets of the word.

  “Did you grow up in town?” She has a way of asking questions that doesn’t give you much of a choice but to answer. Her questions are more like a summoning.

  I shake my head. When I left Massachusetts I vowed to leave my past behind. With my aunt’s death and the chance to move to a new state, it felt like the perfect opportunity for a fresh start. But the past never seems to be put to rest for good.

  “No, I’m not from here. I grew up in Massachusetts.”

  Roxie completely freezes in place and her face loses all of its color. “Where are you from?”

  She swallows and I notice a small droplet of sweat slide down her temple then roll down the side of her face. She seems to be breaking into a sudden sweat.

  “Where in Massachusetts?” Her voice is barely a hollow whisper. All of the spirit that I’m becoming so fond of so quickly seems to have completely disappeared.

  “It’s a small town. You’ve probably never even heard of it.”

  “Where in Massachusetts?” she repeats more forcefully this time.

  “Seacrest,” I reply. Her face contorts and I’m afraid she might get sick or even pass out. Her body is starting to tremble. “Are you okay?”

  She shakes her head. “How did you get burned?”

  Tears are now streaming down her lovely face. I hate to see her so upset. It feels like knives are going through my heart. “A school bombing.” The words get caught in my throat. I don’t remember actually uttering those words to anyone before.

  “I’ve got to get out of here.” She sounds panicked.

  “But why?” I realize I sound just as panicked as she does. I don’t want her to leave.

  She doesn’t say another word. She just takes off, practically running out the door. My appearance didn’t seem to faze her in the least, but she freaks out when I tell her where I’m from.

  I feel like my heart is breaking into a million little pieces when my front door slams shut and I can’t follow her. I’d give anything to be able to chase her and find out why she took off.

  Three

  Roxie

  I’m practically running, which is something I rarely do, but I can’t stop. How is it possible to be in another state entirely and be inexplicably attracted to one of the survivors of the Back to School Bombing? There are almost three hundred and twenty million people in the United States and only eighty-four injured survivors of the Back to School Bombing. What are the odds that I would not just run into one of them, but be drawn to him like a magnet?

  I know I’m a mess. I can’t stop crying and now my nose has joined the party and won’t stop dripping. I do what I can to try and hide my face as I hurry back to my dorm room.

  Of course I can’t hide from Claire. She’s like a hawk. She notices everything.

  “What’s wrong?” She looks up from her textbook as soon as I enter our room.

  I shake my head. I’m definitely not in the mood to get into it with her, but she doesn’t take no for an answer. She closes her book and sits down next to me on my bed.

  “You’ve obviously been crying. Why?”

  I have little doubt she’s going to be mad when I tell her that I sort of stalked the masked man and found his house. I also have a feeling she’ll end up giving me a lecture about going there alone and going inside of his house.

  How can I ever explain the unexplainable? That I was drawn there by some force greater than myself. That I actually know him from the online group, I just didn’t know I knew him. It’s still confusing even to me, how can I possibly explain it to someone else?

  But the way she’s looking at me, with wide-eyed expectancy, I know she’s not going to let me off the hook.

  “Fine,” I relent. “I’ll tell you. I found the masked man. I went to his house.”

  “You what?” she practically screams.

  I gulp. “I went to the masked man’s house.”

  “Did he hurt you?” There’s concern in her voice, but it’s laced with anger. I’m just not sure if she’s angry at me or him. Possibly both.

  “No, he’s not like that.”

  She raises an eyebrow. “You actually talked to him?”

  “I did.”

  “I want to know what possessed you to go there.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “What were you thinking?”

  “I don’t know.” It’s the truth. I have no idea what possessed me to go there. It was almost like a force outside of myself drew me there.

  “You could have gotten hurt.”

  “I know.” My voice sounds small and hallow.

  “He could be dangerous. Some kind of psycho or something.”

  “I don’t think he’s dangerous. Honestly, he just seems sad and lonely.”

  “So why are you so upset?”

  I can’t tell her about my brother and what he did to Alexander and all of the other people he hurt without telling her about my past. That’s not something I’m willing to do. So I go with half-truths instead.

  “He was burned very badly. That’s why he wears a mask. One side if his face is badly scarred. The mask covers most of it but not all of it. Some of the scars are still visible. And his hand and arm, at least what I could see of them, look badly burned as well. I assume there are burns all over his body.”

  She grimaces. “Was it hard to look at him?”

  The thought never occurred to me. I can understand how it might be difficult for some people to see beyond his burns, but it wasn’t difficult for me. I’m not sure why. “I knew the scars were there. I guess I just didn’t focus on them.”

  “I saw this woman on television who was burned when she had acid thrown in her face. I couldn’t even look at her. I had to turn it off.”

  With Claire’s admission it becomes crystal clear to me why Alexander doesn’t go outside. Why he remains a recluse. If people see him on the street it’s not like they can shut him off. He doesn’t want to upset people or make them uncomfortable. He’s sacrificing his own freedom so that other people would not be offended or disturbed by his appearance.

  “Now that you’ve seen him is your curiosity about him satiated?”

  I don’t want to admit it’s not. I’m even more curious about him—and inexplicably attracted to him. But I won’t be able to go back. What if he finds out that it was my brother who injured him?

  “Don’t worry,” I tell her. “I’m not going back.”

  She pats my shoulder. “Good. You had me worried there for a minute.”

  Then she gives me a conspiratorial little grin. “Hector told me he can’t wait to see you again. He wants to take you to Opal’s Steakhouse. It’s only like the most expensive restaurant in the city.”

  “Great,” I lie. As much as I want to I just can’t get excited about going out with Hector.

  “Maybe we can go shopping for some new dresses,” she offers.

  “Maybe.” She sounds so eager I don’t want to disappoint her. And this is really the first time we’ve actually talked the way I always imagined I’d talk to my college roommate.

  I kind of like it.

  “Don’t you need to study?” I gesture over to her textbook.

  She laughs. “I wasn’t really studying. Just passing some time until I can see Julio again. He’s the one who actually has to study. He says his exams are very competitive. The computer science professors actually want half of the class to fail. Education isn’t like that. The professors are much more nurturing. They want everyone to do well. And you know that old saying: B’s get degrees. And I only need a 3.0 to maintain my scholarship.”

  “Well, I have to study.”

  She rolls her eyes at me. “When are you not
studying? Or playing around on your computer with that cyber group. I have no idea how you can call them friends when you’ve never even met them.”

  I’m not sure how I can explain the connection I have to the students who hang out in the cyber café. Especially FANGURL and Alexander. I heave a slow sigh just thinking about Alexander. That’s not really a friendship I want to lose, but it seems inevitable now. There’s no way he’s going to want anything to do with me ever again when he finds out my brother is the Back to School Bomber.

  “What’s wrong?” Claire sounds concerned. Going out with her and her friends the other night seems to have warmed her up to me a lot. Maybe now she sees me more like a peer. I don’t know. I don’t have a lot of experience with girlfriends.

  “I found out that the guy who wears the mask is one of my online friends. Things are just…different now.”

  Claire sits down next to me on my bed. “You need a change of pace. You’re in a rut just studying and chatting online, or whatever you call it. Please give some more thought to dating Hector. He’s an awesome guy. The best. If I wasn’t with Julio I’d definitely date him. And he really, really likes you.”

  It’s the second really that makes me nervous. “I’ll think about it.”

  She raises an eyebrow. “Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  “And you’re still going out with him next weekend. He’s already made reservations at the steak place.”

  I nod. “Fine. Whatever.”

  Her eyes narrow. “No whatevers. I want to hear a lot more enthusiasm in your voice.”

  “I can’t wait to see Hector again,” I say with as much enthusiasm as I can muster.

  Then to my complete surprise Claire gives me a hug. “You won’t regret it.”

  ***

  In some ways I feel like I’m just going through the motions. Class. Studying. More classes. More studying. I’ve been avoiding the cyber café because I know Alexander will be there and I know he’ll want some answers about why I ran out on him so quickly.

  A big part of me isn’t ready to tell him what he wants to know because I still want to hold on to the slightest bit of hope that I’ll still have him in my life, still have him as a cyber-friend at the very least, even though I know it’s a false hope at best. I’m just not ready to face the inevitable.