Jack This Heart, page 2
“Fine. The answer is I don’t like the nurse…Sharon, Susan.”
“Shannon.”
Jack snapped his fingers. “Yep, that’s the one. She’s condescending, annoying. That laugh of hers is somewhere between the wailing cry of a goosemert and the cackle of one of those hyenas the Singh gang-town got for guard dogs.”
“Never knew you to be so discriminatory toward a lady’s response to humor… Hell, didn’t know if you bothered to make them laugh. You always worked on the swooning, flirting thing.”
“Shut up, Snapper. Before I try to work those same wiles on your woman.”
Gina grinned up at Snapper. “It’d never work. I’m all yours, baby.”
“Can I go to the hauler already? I don’t need to be carried. I think I can walk.”
That got both of their attention. Gina was the first to pull away and Snapper took that as his signal to head out of the room, no doubt for the racer.
“If you think you can, then let’s do it. I’ll be here every step of the way if something goes wrong.”
Jack sighed and tried to let his anger out with his exhale. “I’m not a kid.”
“And you’re not exactly one hundred percent. It’s okay to need help, Jack. Let me do this, and I can talk to Shannon.”
It was funny how Gina acted like she was asking him. He damn well knew she’d talk to Drag and their fearless leader would let her do whatever she thought best. Since she’d single-handedly designed the racer that had gotten them their first success, her opinions mattered to everyone. Even if Jack hated this particular view.
“Like I have a choice in the matter.”
She grinned and stood at the ready as he pushed himself up off of the bed. “No, you don’t. But it sounds far better than me saying you’ll do as I say or else. Humor me, and if something goes wrong, it will be my fault.”
Therein lay the problem… Something had already gone wrong. This would just be the bonus bullshit to his continuing streak of bad luck.
Chapter Two
“Just lift and hold.” Shannon directed Hemi from her seat across the way from him. This makeshift physical training room the Full Throttle gang had outfitted proved they cared far more for their people than Shannon’s own family ever had.
Once upon a time… The past doesn’t determine my future.
Hemi let out a grunt of frustration as he tried to hold his metal cybernetic leg aloft, sweat beads gathered on his forehead. “If it’s so easy, how about you do it, too?”
Shannon stuck both her legs out in front of her, using her hands to brace her weight on the chair, and lifted straight up. “Got any more challenges for me? Give it ten more seconds. Count down with me.”
They spoke the numbers out loud, the echo of their voices reflecting off the metal walls with the wooden frame. Another part of these Wespero territory gang-towns she’d found interesting—they built houses, stores, mechanics bays. They kept all their possessions above ground. Odd, and far more trusting than any other gang-town she’d visited in the Auster territory region of Mars. Those gangs found strength in hiding their wealth from prying eyes.
“You can lower now.”
Hemi followed her direction and took a few deep breaths before wiping his face with the rag on his lap. “Do you think it will get any easier?”
He’d asked her this question before, back when he’d first started working with her on the physical therapy to gain use of his new cybernetic appendages. The racing accident he’d experienced hadn’t just cost him an arm and a leg, but his confidence.
Some scars dig deeper.
“I don’t know. Guess it depends on how hard you work. I imagine you’ll always feel different, but you’re still you.”
“Really?” Hemi cocked a grin at her. “Then let me buy you a drink tonight.”
“Are you really flirting with your healthcare professional?”
He shrugged and readjusted himself in the chair. “Maybe… That’s part of who I was once, the flirt. I mean, don’t lie—what chance do I have with any woman now? They all think I’m a freak.”
Shannon opened her mouth, prepared to ask him who’d called him names, when the main door creaked open.
“Hemi, you’re as gorgeous as the day I met you. Definitely not a freak,” Gina said as she walked into the room, past the tool chest and table they’d set up with various wheels, hammers, blocks and other objects to be used for weightlifting. The woman was tall and lithe, with blonde hair that fell in a long ponytail to her ass. She was gorgeous and everything opposite of Shannon.
“You’re saying that because you feel guilty.”
Shannon hadn’t been briefed on all the details of what had caused the crash, but she knew the extent of Hemi’s injuries. That was what she’d been hired for—to care for this man who’d been taken apart and put together, like some old Earth rhyme.
Dumpty Rumpty.
Gina reached them and placed a hand on Hemi’s cybernetic shoulder. “Guilt has nothing to do with anything. I only feel frustration that we haven’t located the person who rigged…”
She trailed off as his gaze tracked over to Shannon.
The only downside to being an outsider in this gang-town was censored conversation. Shannon would’ve been rich if she got a gold leaf every time someone halted or stuttered over their words around her. Afraid to speak of ‘gang’ business or confess some sort of secret.
“Racers don’t typically blow up unless someone rigged them to. You don’t have to hide whatever you want to say from me.” Shannon ran a finger over her lips, imitating sealing them shut. “I’m a locked box.”
“But you’re not Full Throttle.”
Shannon almost rolled her eyes at Gina’s response. How many ridiculous times had she heard such a statement? Too many.
Every gang-town across Mars disliked outsiders. Shannon could easily proclaim she didn’t belong to anyone or anything.
And I don’t fucking want to.
Twice she’d made the mistake of believing in something—in the idea that she belonged somewhere—though the second time she’d been wise enough to see the end coming before it hit. She’d barely escaped the Humans First movement without getting caught by the Upper Pup units. A future where she’d have been locked in a Saturn rings jail cell, her bones marked for powder production.
Instead, she’d slipped into the ether, eking out an existence in the wilds of Mars, bouncing from gang-town to gang-town and using her knowledge of anatomy and cybernetics to do it, among her other talents.
“Hemi, do you mind if I talk to Shannon for a minute?”
He glanced in Shannon’s direction and she appreciated how he sought her approval to end their session early.
She gave a little nod.
Hemi pushed himself out of the chair and flexed his hands, though the cybernetic reaction was a little slower than Shannon would have liked. He gave a good stroke to his bushy black beard and sighed. “I’m off to the hole for a drink then.”
“Be by early tomorrow. I want to do some strength and input tests for your arm and hand.” Regardless of her true motives, she wanted to ensure she left Hemi in a better place than when she’d been brought in.
I didn’t do enough for the first group.
“Sure, sure.” He hollered over his shoulder as he walked toward the exit, “If you want me to take my clothes off too, that can be negotiated.”
“And we’ll talk about the flirting.”
The door slammed shut behind him,
“Do those lines really work?” she asked Gina, who sat down in the metal folding chair Hemi had vacated.
“I don’t know. Afraid I’m too much of a working girl—wait, that’s the wrong word. I’m too focused on my work, that’s it. I don’t pay attention to what the others do unless it involves racing.”
This Gina was an odd duck, incredibly smart and with a knack for hearing things most wouldn’t pick up and seeing things others wouldn’t notice. Shannon figured she was harmless in general, though no amount of kindness extended to the woman got her any closer to the Full Throttle mechanics bay.
“I wanted to talk to you about—”
“Hemi’s progress.”
Gina shook her head. “No, from what I can tell, he’s improved a lot since you started helping, though he has a way to go. But he’s walking and capable of basic function. More than we could have hoped for. This is about an opportunity to help out Full Throttle.”
Perfect, the in Shannon had been looking for. The sooner she gained access to those racer design specs…the sooner I’m debt free.
“I might be interested. As long as it doesn’t affect my work with Hemi. It’s important his physical therapy and testing continues.” Playing the role of the doting nurse wasn’t hard, because deep down she did want to help Hemi. Though her life and future were equally important. She could assume any part needed to get her goals accomplished.
And getting closer to the current racer or Full Throttle’s next driver, Jack, had failed to happen. She’d tried getting Jack a drink, talking with him and even had Hemi introduce them. But Jack, for some weird reason, wanted nothing to do with her. She had a nice set of breasts, an ample juicy ass, curves in the right places and hair with deeper curls than ever. Men, women, hell, everyone loved to wrap her curls around their fingers. Except Jack… Who is an idiot.
“Great. I’ve got Snapper, Drag and the guys over in the back meeting room of the Watering Hole and they’d love to talk details, if you don’t mind coming with me.” Gina stood up abruptly, her gait a bit awkward for a split second.
“Lead the way.”
They marched together side-by-side down the main stretch in Frog Lick. A ridiculous name for a town, but one the Full Throttle gang had decided not to change after their old leader, Bebe Smith, was arrested for allying herself with Shannon’s ex-lover and cohort Kascade.
She’d made some weird choices in her life, but sleeping with that megalomaniac had been one of the ones she regretted a bit more.
Really? Getting into debt with Macintosh is probably worse.
Once inside the Watering Hole, Shannon expected more eyes on her, but everyone kept to themselves. Hemi was nursing a tall mug of brew at a table, his gaze on the mug. The bartender, Gaia, was serving up a swath of shots to a small crowd. Maybe some betting had taken place.
“What’s the occasion?”
Gina glanced over her shoulder. “Oh, cheering folks up. The test run didn’t go as well as we’d hoped. But now that I’ve got you in here, maybe that will change.”
They walked across the wooden floor. The creak of the boards, the graceful maneuvering around mismatched tables and chairs echoed by the chipping paint across multiple surfaces, even the ceiling, caved in at certain places and patched with jagged cut pieces of metal in others, served as a reminder this gang-town sat on the brink. They made things work, but not everything was fully operational.
They aren’t building ships either.
Mars was always good for two things—mining and shipbuilding. Where the other gang-towns across three territories had more than racing going for them, the racers and the drivers were all Full Throttle had left. Mining and building brought in the bulk of the revenue, and this gang-town had lost rights to mining and shipbuilding due to the Smiths’ betrayal. They needed something to bring in a big amount of flash. The championship for racing would be the only way to do so. For most gang-towns, a win meant extra for members, and potential sponsors from the Upper planets, fools with flash to toss around.
“What exactly do they want me to help with?” Shannon couldn’t help but let the concern seep into her tone. She’d been slowly awakening to how much trouble this town was in, how on the edge they all were.
But Bridget Macintosh doesn’t care.
“Follow me,” Gina replied, heading down a narrow hallway off to the left of a wooden stage with threadbare maroon curtains. The light dimmed in the hallway. Shannon could hear a few voices, mumbling and grumbling over one another behind a closed door ahead.
There was a ‘Keep Out’ sign in big red letters. Underneath it was scratched into the wood ‘The Management.’
Gina didn’t even give a knock, just shoved the door open and motioned Shannon into the room.
She entered and found a space almost the size of the bar with three different tables. Hanging fabrics were draped from the ceiling in alternating patterns. Rugs of different shapes, sizes and colors were all over the floor. The scent of whiskey, not the cheap stuff either, lingered in the air along with woodsmoke. A small fire crackled in a metal square enclosure instead of the standard heating element. She was surprised to see them risking a live fire in a flammable space.
Mars was naturally a little chillier than most, especially at night, but nothing like space. The moon, the ships…freezing cold.
“What’s up with the fire?” she asked, giving her attention to the room’s participants now. Drag, the leader of Full Throttle, with his sun-blond hair and cybernetic arm, sat surrounded by his appointed commanders—Snapper, lead mechanic and Gina’s boyfriend, Rune, the cropper and Drag’s younger brother and the last option for driver, Jack. Out of the group, three of them had cybernetic parts. She remembered when they’d volunteered for Kascade’s experiment.
Jack was the one who frowned at her as he sat down and propped his metal leg on a chair seat. “Maybe you should worry about why you’re here.”
She scowled at Jack’s dismissive tone. Like she was a piece of unwanted dirt or rotted meat. She’d been treated that way once, by the very people she’d thought of as family.
Never again.
“Tell you what, Gina. How about I leave you to your meeting and we can catch up when you decide if my help is really what you need?” She started to pivot on her heel, fully prepared to walk away.
But Drag spoke before she could take another step. “Wait, we require you here. Your expertise would be appreciated. Just ignore Jack. He had a moment today.”
“We all have moments. Jack has an attitude…toward me.” Shannon squared her shoulders and crossed her arms as she faced the group once more.
“Care to have a seat?” Drag pulled a chair out for her.
Snapper shrugged and spoke at the same time. “Jack’s not a fan of outsiders. None of us are.”
Shannon took the seat and crossed her legs at her ankles, leaning back and trying to give her best impression of a person who didn’t give a shit. Though she needed whatever opportunity they were going to offer her. “I don’t care who likes me and who doesn’t. I have skills and I try to use those to others’ benefits.”
Rune smiled at her as he brushed strands of his brown hair out of his eyes. “I knew I liked you for a reason. My brother would like you to use those skills once more to assist us.”
“What’s the play?” They were beating around a metaphorical bush and Shannon hated it when people didn’t talk plainly. Even if half the words were lies, better to spit them out.
Drag laid a hand on Rune’s, a signal he’d take over. “Jack is our best driver to replace Hemi. I’m not sure how familiar you are with the rules of the racing commission here on Mars, but in order to replace Hemi as the primary driver, Jack must win the next regional race before the championship. If he doesn’t, the expectation is that Hemi will race or there will be no entry for Full Throttle.”
“And…Jack looks healthy enough.” Shannon glanced over at him, the grumpy asshole with his barely there blond scruff and short blond hair, with tan flesh. Too many days spent out in the sun.
“His cybernetics are causing some difficulties.”
Jack, whose brooding gaze, coupled with his eyebrows, had become more pointed by the second, exploded, waving his arms in the air and slamming the cybernetic leg of his onto the chair. The wooden seat split with a crack. “Just fucking say it. I’m defective. My body is rejecting the leg implant and it’s starting to malfunction… Fuck, it went into full meltdown on the racetrack. Now the commission’s doctor says if I don’t get it fixed, I’m not approved to race. But it’s worse than a simple leg issue… My nanites are being rejected.”
Everyone in the room seemed to freeze, as if Jack’s sudden anger weren’t normal, but Shannon got it.
“You feel powerless. I understand how that can tear you apart and I can help.”
Gazes bored into her, like the drills Mars miners used to carve out Marsanium ore from the caves. This was her chance to play her winning hand, make a demand for her services. But deep down she didn’t like Bridget Macintosh or her threats to kill Shannon because she could operate a dice scam better than Mars gang members. Plus, Bridget didn’t seem too trustworthy. Better to pay off the debt my way. And this was how she’d get there.
Shannon took a deep breath and sat up straight, uncrossing her arms and legs before she rested her elbows against her knees. “I can get you ready to race, but it’s going to cost you.”
Chapter Three
“Are you fucking joking?” Jack should have been apologizing for the chair. Instead, he focused on squaring off with this cybernetics expert nurse who’d plagued him for longer than she’d ever been in their town. He remembered her—she haunted his dreams and his nightmares as she’d been front and center when he’d undergone the cybernetic procedure to begin with.
Her soothing voice, gorgeous eyes and curly brown hair were imprinted on his psyche and he hated it. Because her being here, when she had the intelligence to work on the Uppers, raised all the red flags. Even as his body, and otherwise prone to flirt and fuck persona, wanted to dismiss them. Women like her didn’t get lost on Mars unless they had a reason to hide. But she’d helped save Hemi… Could maybe save me.
“When it comes to flash, I don’t joke. I also don’t make light of my abilities.” She leaned up, removing her weight from her chair and scooting it closer to him.
He rolled his eyes at her bragging. She possessed an arrogance he didn’t remember from before, and he refused to let a seed of admiration at her confidence take root.
She stood less than a foot from his piece of shit leg. He caught a whiff of musk and lavender. Lavender, like the damn soap Rune’s wife Petal created. Her dark-brown luscious curls bounced as she took a seat again. “Your leg’s not responding to commands, you’re straining. Soon your muscles and energy are going to drain further trying to get it to work. It’s going to cause fever. Eventually, brain delirium, and it will spread. Initial tests as we were finalizing the implants had similar results.”
