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Authors: D. Breeze

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BOOK: Fake
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Chapter Eight

Lydia

 

It took just four days for me to find somewhere to live...and it took Ruben less than a second of seeing it, to lose his mind and demand that I find somewhere else.

We fought.

I won.

So I sat on my second-hand sofa in my tiny studio flat and smiled. I didn’t care how tiny it was, or how shabby and I didn’t care about the strange smell that lingered. I had put a measly deposit down and signed a twelve month tenancy on the first place I could afford on minimum wage.

So it was officially mine. I found it by myself, did the paperwork by myself and paid the deposit by myself. Ruben could shove his ‘let me help you’ attitude up his ass because I didn’t need anyone.

So what if I was working every hour the park was open, and still living off bargain noodles and slightly on-the-turn fruit? I was still doing it.

Didn’t mean Ruben was giving up on me though. He seemed to have invaded my life anyway, even if I didn’t ask him to.

Not to say I minded exactly.

The new Ruben, the older Ruben, he was protective and sweet and even more gorgeous than he was at fourteen. He was good to have around, good company.

I thought back to our conversation the previous night and my smile fell. I felt guilty for giving him hell back in the hotel, I never really thought about the fact that he might have had it difficult too.

“You didn’t even give us a second thought though, Ruben. You were just there one second, and gone the next. You have this whole other life now that I know nothing about. We struggled, every damn day and you...well...I don’t even know where you were or what you were doing.”

“It isn’t like I didn’t struggle too Lyds, this is life and people all over the world struggle every day. I was a scared, angry teenage kid. I ended up in care, separated from Mase and I was alone most of the time, so it’s...”

“You were in care?” I interrupted, my heart hurting for teenage Ruben.

He swallowed, but nodded his head slowly.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you and I’m sorry I’ve been so selfish.” I whimpered.

I threw myself into his arms, ignoring the twinge in my side from my, still aching, ribs.

“It wasn’t for long, Lyds. I’m ok now, really.”

“I don’t care how long it was for, that’s so sad. I’m glad you’re ok now though. I missed you, Ruben.”

I wouldn’t say I was over the fact that he did leave, but it was getting easier. He was right, of course. He was just a kid, but so was I and I’d held on to the heartache he caused for six years.

The thought of him going into the system made my heart hurt too. I knew some of the adults on the estate fostered kids, and it definitely wasn’t for the good of the kids, it was so they could get a pay cheque.

How they ever got accepted as foster parents, I’ll never know. The thought made me shudder.

Poor Ruben.

It was weird though, I thought, that it didn’t seem to have fazed him at all. He wasn’t angry or bitter and he didn’t seem to be suffering emotionally in any way. I just found it odd that he was so...
normal
.

Ok, so I didn’t know anyone else who had been in care, so I guess I shouldn’t judge – but I did know an awful lot of people who had/still have shitty lives, and not one of them was emotionally balanced.

Everyone is different though I suppose.

I decided to put it to the back of my mind. He always was everyone’s problem solver, so maybe he just managed to solve his own too.

Pulling my brand new high-end phone of my back pocket, I stared at it.

Ruben had given it to me the day before, making me swear that I’d text him throughout the day to let him know I was ok.

I swore to him I would...but I wouldn’t.

I didn’t want the phone and even though he’d looked me right in the eyes and told me he’d got it second-hand so it wasn’t that expensive, I didn’t believe him.

He worked in a bar for crying out loud, he didn’t have that sort of money.

Not only that, but I didn’t want any favours from anyone. I was tired of people looking at me with pity in their eyes. Just like Mrs Henley used to. Her eyes used to look sad when she asked about my home life and I never understood. But you learn things as you grow up and when you get slapped in the mouth by a man you call ‘uncle’ because you said you didn’t want the new watch he gave you...you learn pretty fucking fast.

So my mum was a drug addict, my dad was a criminal and my ‘uncle’ was his boss. I had my brother and for four years, I had Ruben. Not that I knew it at the time, but they sheltered me from so much, just so I could grow up happy, like a normal child.

The gifts that I was given on a regular basis, yeah, they were stolen.

The fact that I didn’t have a time to be in at night and I could go wherever I wanted? That was because it was easier for my parents if I was out of the house.

The compliments I received from strangers walking down the streets? They were because people felt sorry for me.

So I was done.

No more pity.

No more help.

And no more gifts.

...except I’d maybe keep the phone because it was kind of cool!

Without texting Ruben to let him know I was fine, because hell, I wasn’t letting anyone keep tabs on me. I shoved my feet in my new, flat, black pumps, and left for work.

Work sucked.

It always had, from the day I started.

But as far as I was concerned, everyone should earn their own money, make their own way in life and be able to feel proud of their achievements. The shitty job; was just the first step.

On a good day, it took me just short of an hour and a half to get to Wildlands. A bus, then a tube train, then another bus and a mile walk.

Wildlands is a theme park about twenty miles outside of London, it’s popular, but only because if it’s location I’m sure. The rides are old, the arcades have more games broken, than not, and most the buildings are in a state of disrepair.

Me? I worked as the only cashier in the souvenir shop. I sold about twenty things each day, if that.

And my boss was a prick.

I truly despised him, but it was manageable considering he stayed away from me as much as I stayed away from him.

About half the day at work had already passed by the time I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket and I smiled, expecting it to be a warning text from Ruben about keeping him up to date on my safety.

It wasn’t.

I frowned at the text, then paled.

“If your little friend wants to keep you safe, you need to tell him that giving you a new phone number and moving you to London but letting you keep the same job is not the way to do it. Looking forward to seeing you again soon ladybug. F x”

Holy fucking fuck.

Ruben said I was safe.

He clearly lied.

My hands shook as I dialled his number. Only one of two that I’d had time to programme into my phone.

“Hello?” He answered.

“You’re a God damned liar.” I whispered in shock.

“Huh?”

“You told me I was safe, you told me I didn’t have to worry about Freddy anymore. You lied.”

I could almost hear him cringe. “I didn’t lie as such. You are safe...providing he doesn’t see you again, ever.”

“He knows where I work you stupid idiot! He could be outside right now and there’d be nothing that anyone could do to stop him!” I shouted and then shot an apologetic smile to the single customer that stood in the shop. I noticed she glanced outside warily, wondering what she might find.

Ruben sighed on the end of the phone, “I know that, but I was banking on the fact that he’d contact you.”

My eyebrows shot up. “You
wanted
him to find me?"

“God no!” He denied, and then explained. “I had nothing to go off. He’s playing this game with us, he has the upper hand and we know it. But let me guess, he text you, instead of calling...right?”

How did he know that?

“Well, yes...” I said slowly, not understanding where he was going with that.

“And what happens when someone texts you?”

“My phone vibrates?” I answered, even more confused.

He sighed. “No, it leaves a number, which gives us a trail. Text me that number and within an hour, maybe two, I’ll have lock on his location. He’s more powerful than us, I’m not denying that, but if we can access the location services on his phone, we’ll know where he is twenty-four seven...Providing it’s not a throwaway obviously.”

“Are you speaking French?” I asked.

“Huh?”

“I didn’t understand a word of what you just said.” I explained.

“Doesn’t matter. Will you just send me the number that he text you from? This is a good thing Lyds, I promise you.”

Wrong, wrong thing to say.

His promises were not worth a single thing to me.

I hung up, but I still text him the number. It seemed important.

Ruben still didn’t realise that he’d royally fucked up though. I’d basically known the ‘new’ Ruben for five days, and for four and a half of those days, he’d lied to me.

Some things never change.

You could bet your ass that he’d be hearing from me about it when I finished work.

 

*~*~*

Ruben

 

Staring at the phone in my hand, I growled under my breath. She hung up on me!

In five days, we’d done nothing but argue. She was rude and bitchy and the fact that I was helping get everything in order to start her new life...apparently meant fuck all.

The phone buzzed and I glanced down.

Huh.

She sent the number. It surprised me, I figured she’d just be stubborn and ignore me – just like she had when I’d asked her to send me a text every now and then to let me know she’s ok. I shook my head; I’d break down her new bitchy persona and release my Lydia, whom I knew was still hiding underneath.

I was at ‘Blaze’, the new club that my brother, Jackson, owned and I’d been doing all the security updates for the computer systems and double checking the
DBS
security files on the staff before the launch which was happening in about eight hours.

Nightclubs were his business of choice. He could have easily wasted his life away doing nothing but living off inheritance money he was given from some crazy old man he knew. If Jax knew that I thought the old man was crazy, he’d probably put me on my ass pretty damn fast.

He had some odd connection to the guy.

But he didn’t waste a penny. It’s weird, that I’m proud of him, because he’s older than me. He’s my idol, my mentor, the one person in life that I genuinely look up to.

I just don’t
do
nightclubs.

They’re not my scene.

Hence the fact that I spend my days sitting in the security office, playing at work. I love that he pays me a ridiculous amount, way too much, to do something that I would have been doing for fun anyway – but he point blank shut me down and told me to put up and shut up when I told him he didn’t have to pay me.

Hey, it’s his money, if he wants to basically give it away – who am I to argue?

Seeing as I was already at the computer, I entered the phone number that I’d received and started exploring. If anyone thinks their phone is secure, they’re wrong. Granted, technology is my ‘thing’ but still...people should be more careful with what they store on their phones and online accounts.

Within minutes, I’d accessed Freddy’s text, emails, contacts, images and I knew it wouldn’t take long to lock into his location services.

Knowing it was a big risk, I didn’t fight Lydia when she said she was going back to work. I had to come in to ‘Blaze’ anyway so it’s not like I could stop her, but I actually wanted Freddy to think that we had no clue what he was planning.

I read people and I’m good at it. I took an educated guess that he’d be watching her. Fuck giving us half an hour to flee; he was probably watching from the second I took her into my arms back at the park on the estate.

I banked on it.

With a quick, anonymous, phone call to the police to give them his location – I kept my fingers crossed that Freddy would be in jail by the end of the day.

Just to be on the safe-side of things, I logged into my tracking programme and added Lydia’s phone.

Invasion of her privacy? Maybe.

But the stubborn girl wouldn’t text me to let me know she was ok, even if she wasn’t. Therefore, I did what I had to, to make sure no harm ever came to her again. I did it, and I’d do it again if I had to. I’ll be honest, there are even trackers on both my brother’s phones because there is far too much fucked-up shit that goes on in the world, it’s always better to be safe than sorry.

Rushing through my days work in a matter of hours, I packed up my laptop, slid it to one side and sighed. I didn’t want to go home, I was a typical over-thinker and too much time alone just gave me time to go over and over things in my head.

BOOK: Fake
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