Defective (The Institute Series Book 3) (25 page)

“You’re right. She is a bitch. But that doesn’t mean this wasn’t meant to be.”

“I wish I had that kind of faith.”

“You don’t need to. You just have to trust me.”

“I do.”

Chapter Twenty

It turns out Paxton’s will confirmed he wanted me to take Nuka, and I’m officially her guardian now. Mum and Dad have agreed to have William for at least a few more weeks, if not a few months, until both Nuka and I are a bit more settled, and I’m ready to take him. They’re bringing him by every day so I can slowly get used to being around him, get to know him, and start bonding with him as a mother should.

I don’t know if I will ever get over my guilt of leaving him, but I’ve promised him, and myself, that I’m going to spend the rest of my life making it up to him. Mum constantly reminds me that I was just doing what I thought was best – just like she did when she left us. I was desperate and made a desperate choice. It doesn’t excuse my actions, but it doesn’t make me the bad person I feel I am.

The interesting part about Paxton’s will was it was drafted just after he became Director of the Institute. Had he always planned for me to move in with him, become his political beard? Or was I merely named for the fact he had no one else he was remotely close to?

Paxton set up a trust fund for Nuka which she’ll receive when she’s twenty-one, but apart from that, there was no money left for her upbringing. The apartment was left to me to raise Nuka in, under the proviso I’ll take over the mortgage payments. I had to shake my head at that – surely Paxton would’ve known I couldn’t afford the repayments, even with the apartment being fifty percent paid off. I’ll stick it out for as long as we can, I don’t want to put Nuka through too many changes too suddenly, but I do have the right to sell it, which I’ll probably have to do sooner rather than later. I’ve already had to let Linds go. It will take a few months before the will is settled completely, though, and the bank has put a hold on the mortgage until then, so we at least have that time to work out what to do.

I’m making my way back to the hospital right now to talk to Tate. I asked Mum and Dad to take Nuka for the day, too, seeing as I have to address the media about Paxton’s death right after I speak to Tate. I don’t really want her there for that, and I’ve already put it off for a day. It can’t really wait any longer.

I sneak into his room and sit by Tate’s bed, waiting for him to wake up.

“I’m awake,” he says, his voice husky.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” I ask, leaning forward to hold his hand on his good arm.

“Better. I’m so ready to get out of here. They tell me I need a few more days though.”

“You should be revelling in all the glorious hospital food and the sexy gown you get to wear.” I smile, but he doesn’t seem as entertained as I am. “There’s going to be a press conference,” I say, suddenly serious.

“There is?”

“The promising presidential candidate is dead. The AFP have asked me to address the media. I have no idea what to say, or if I’m to introduce a new candidate, or if that’s even my job.” I look to him for the answer.

“The world is definitely not ready for a Defective President yet. There’d be no point in me running.”

“Are you sure?”

“Maybe in a few years. After what Zac did, there’s no way a Defective will come close this election.”

“About that. The AFP were persuaded to cover up the fact that Zac’s Defective. It’s already bad enough out there with the hate crimes.”

Tate kind of laughs. “Politics, hey? Anything is possible to cover up.” His face loses the smile, “It still isn’t a good idea for me to take Paxton’s spot. I’m just being realistic.”

“Okay, I’ll let everyone know.” There’s a silent pause before I ask him about Paxton. “Did you know what he did?”

“Paxton?”

“He was the one who put you in that cell,” I say, keeping my voice low.

Tate sighs. “I had my suspicions, but I told myself I was being crazy. I always wondered about that photo. And after the stuff you found out about him… I had to stop thinking about it. I didn’t want to deal with it.”

“That’s not all.” I haven’t told anyone about what else I’ve learnt about Paxton. Drew knows the stuff Cyrus told us. Jayce knows what Zac said. No one knows what Jenna told me. “Paxton was giving Brookfield money.”

“What? Why?”

“So his side of the story wouldn’t get out.”

Tate’s thoughts suddenly hit me like tidal wave. Expletive after expletive, anger so intense I find myself flinching in surprise. His face still seems indifferent.

“You can hear that?” he asks, surprised himself.

I nod sheepishly.

“Sorry.”

“You know you’re allowed to be angry, right?” He’s clearly hurt if he can’t even block me from his thoughts.

“I know. I just don’t want to put that on you.”

I gesture for him to move over, and lie down on the hospital bed next to him. I’m reminded of when I was shot, and he climbed in my bed to comfort me.

“We both have the right to be angry at him. Paxton claims he did everything for Nuka and would do the same again, given the chance,” I say. “Part of me hates that he died, that I didn’t get a proper chance to confront him, yell at him, tell him I’d no longer let him manipulate me. It’s not fair.”

“That’s all good in theory, Allira, but you and I both know that if he was still alive, he’d just find another way to manipulate the situation to get what he wants.” He shakes his head. “You know, I thought you living with him was helping you. I couldn’t see that you were losing more and more of yourself each day, until it was too late.”

“Do you think that’s why he picked me? Because I’m easy to manipulate?”

“You’re far from that. He originally picked you because of who you are – Persephone’s daughter, and my best friend. I don’t think he planned for Chad to die in the takeover, but your grief gave him the opportunity to use you further.”

“I hate that I have to go on pretending like we were in love. I want to scream, and yell, and tell everyone about what he did.”

“But you can’t,” Tate says dejectedly. “Just like I can’t let my anger get the better of me.”

“I know. It’ll set back all the progress we’ve made where Defectives are concerned. Not to mention it would crush Nuka. I can’t do that to her.”

“We really only have one other option.”

I nod. “We have to let it go and forget.”

He sighs. “Man, this sucks.”

That’s an understatement.
“You know what else sucks? With Paxton gone…” I trail off.

“Brookfield’s going to come back,” Tate says for me.

“Yup. I’m working with the AFP to try and entice him out of hiding.”

“Is that the reason for the press conference?”

“The press conference was going to happen either way, but he’s the reason I’m doing the talking.”

“How does Jayce feel about that? You’ll be on TV practically daring Brookfield to come after you.”

I half-smile. “His sister is special ops in the police force. He doesn’t like that I’m putting myself in danger, but he’s learnt from Jenna that it’s all part of the job. There’s no point in trying to convince me not to do it.”

Tate’s taken aback. “Talk about the opposite of Ch…” he cuts himself off, staring at me through the corner of his eye before glancing away.

“I know,” I agree quietly. Chad was always big on keeping me out of danger – hence why he didn’t want me to be involved in the Institute takeover.

“How’s he taking the whole, mother of two thing?” he asks. “Liam was another reason why I was pushing you so hard to get better and find your way back to us.”

“I’m grateful for that,” I whisper, shame filling my quiet voice.

“I thought for sure we’d all be in trouble for lying to you again.”

“It sucks, yeah, but even I can understand why you did it this time. I must’ve been a wreck to do what I did. Sometimes lies are necessary,” I admit.

“She finally gets it!” he exclaims, throwing his good arm up in the air, before wrapping it around me as I snuggle into his side.

“I’m so glad we’re back to normal.”

“Me too,” he says, kissing the side of my head.

I love you.

‘I love you, too… butthead.’

***

Lights blind me. Murmurs whisper around me. I stand next to a podium, unable to see the faces of the shadowy figures sitting in front of me, waiting for me to be introduced. The press room is lined with police officers. I don’t even know if this will work – standing in front of every news channel in the country, lying to everyone, telling them that Paxton was a loved man, that he was a good person, that he was doing the right thing by being a Defective advocate – all of this in the hopes of flushing out Brookfield? I think it’s a long shot, but with Paxton dead, and his funding source gone, it might be easier to get his attention now, unlike the small newspaper article Jenna organised.

The police commissioner completes his briefing about Paxton’s death and introduces me. I step up to the podium and open my mouth to talk, but barely a squeak comes out. I look down at my note cards, and tell my hands to stop trembling. Clearing my throat, I try again.

“Two days ago, the Defective community lost its best ally, the world lost a great man, and I lost the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with.” I tell myself not to shudder as I say these words.
“Paxton James lost his life standing up for those who have been discriminated against, those who have been ridiculed for their shortcomings, and those who are targeted for the mere fact they were born different.

“Like many battles of the past that have been dissolved with time and new generations, this too will be resolved.  But even as new generations are formed and revolutionary ideas are adapted, there will always be hate. Discrimination is not genetic, discrimination is taught. We can only hope that with the right attitude and correct information, it will scale down over time, eventually to a point where it won’t exist among the majority. Only then will the Defective population truly be safe.

“I urge each and every Defective person out there to continue our fight. Many have resorted to going back to the Institute, which is now what it should have been all along – a sanctuary, a refuge, a home. And while the Institute will always be there for us, it’s imperative that we don’t let the biases of others drive us back to the place that once caged us. For Paxton’s legacy to continue, we need to ensure we fight for what this country needs most – equality for everyone.

“I’d like to take this opportunity to thank you all for coming out today, and for respecting my family’s need for privacy during this difficult time.”

I let out a deep breath of relief, but as I go to walk off stage, the yelling begins. So many voices cut through the crowd, all trying to get me to answer their questions. Some are really personal like “How is Paxton’s daughter coping with the loss?” There are political questions like “Who’s going to run in Paxton’s place for President?” And then there are the ridiculous questions like “Did you have anything to do with Paxton’s death?”

I pass the question portion of the press conference over to Paxton’s campaign advisor, a man I’ve only met a few times before. He’s here to let everyone know that no one will be running in Paxton’s place, but there are high hopes for Tate’s campaigning ventures in the future.

I’ve done my job. I’m going to go to my parent’s place, spend some time with William, take Nuka home, and put Paxton behind me. My new life starts today.

***

Parenting is friggin’ hard… and I’ve only been doing it for a short time – part time as well, since William is still living with my parents.

He’s with me today though, and I’m trying to get the apartment ready for a get together for Tate. He’s coming home from the hospital, so I thought it’d be nice to throw him a barbecue. Shilah insisted he needs rest, not a party, and now I’m wishing I’d listened to him because I didn’t realise how little time I’d have to get everything ready. I’m too busy chasing William all over the apartment to prepare. Who knew how dangerous an un-baby-proofed apartment could be to a nine-month-old? He’s only crawling, but damn, he’s fast. Not to mention I’m also trying to be there for Nuka, who’s wandering around the apartment like she’s lost without her daddy here.

I’m not a complete idiot, I knew it’d be hard, but how am I meant to cook food, run after William who’s getting into everything, and console a distraught almost seven-year-old?

Is it too immature of me to want my mummy and daddy? Because right now I just want them to hold me while I apologise for ever having been a child and putting them through this.

Giving in to William, I lie down on the floor and let him climb all over me – at least he’s no longer exploring drawers and cupboards, pulling himself up on couches, or putting anything in his mouth. Nuka’s gone back to her room, not wanting to join in our game.

The buzzing noise from the security intercom startles me.
Crap! Is everyone arriving already?
But when I go over to let them in, Security informs me it’s Jenna downstairs, and she wants to see me. She was at the press conference a few days ago, but we didn’t get a real chance to talk. I tell security to let her up while wondering why she’s come. I can only hope it’s to tell me Brookfield’s been found.