Outsider: The Flawed Series Book Two Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright (ebook)

  Get Empath

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  Enjoying the Flawed Series?

  Also By Becca

  About the Author

  The Flawed Series Book Two

  Becca J. Campbell

  Published by Surreal Media Studios, 2015.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  Written by Becca J. Campbell.

  Cover Design by Steven Novak. Edited by Jessie Sanders.

  OUTSIDER

  First edition. January 6th, 2015.

  Copyright © 2015 Becca J. Campbell.

  All rights reserved.

  Want to read Empath (Flawed #1) for free?

  Click here to get book #1 AND a bonus short for free.

  Josh Schuyler grabbed the knob with a soapy hand and cracked open his front door. Water drops ran down his bare chest as he peered left and right, counting his blessings that the coast was clear. Gripping the towel around his waist, he darted out of the apartment, four doors down the breezeway, trying not to dwell on what his new neighbors might think if they saw a dripping wet, half-naked man running around the complex. Would that be grounds for calling the cops? He hoped not. It wasn’t his fault that his water had been inexplicably turned off in the middle of the day. This wasn’t exactly the way he wanted to spend his first day after moving out of his parents’ house to his new place in Denver.

  He nearly lost his footing sliding to a halt in front of Chloe’s door but caught himself at the last instant. Shivering, he glanced left and right to make sure no one had seen his near fall. He was still good. Praying that his sister was home—and that her water wasn’t affected by whatever had stopped his—he grabbed the doorknob.

  It turned easily.

  Relief flooded him as he shoved the door open and darted inside. It took him a moment to register the occupant, and when he did, he froze. Lingering water droplets trickled past the goose bumps on his chest, arms, and legs.

  In the middle of the living room, a young woman dressed in spandex shorts and a tank top was holding an odd pose: feet spread wide, rear to the ceiling, hands planted on the floor. Messy brown curls cascaded from her head, brushing the carpet. Josh might have tried to figure out what in the world she was doing if he weren’t so bewildered by the realization that the woman was most definitely not his sister. At his entrance, the woman’s head craned to meet him, a curious expression creasing her brows. She stared at him, her face upside down between toned runner’s legs.

  Panic shot through Josh’s chest. He hadn’t double-checked the door number before barging in, and towel-clad and shampoo-headed, he must’ve entered the wrong apartment. Mortification heated his face as he gawked, at a complete loss for words. Shock planted his feet like lead weights, and he wished he could disappear—or spontaneously transport, or reverse time. It wasn’t the first instance he’d wished for an abnormal ability, though it was probably the weirdest.

  “Can I help you?” the woman asked, arching an eyebrow. She glanced at the floor beneath him, and Josh followed her gaze, suddenly realizing he was dripping soapy water in a puddle on the carpet.

  “I…uh…” His voice cracked. He backed a step toward the door, his hand grasping at empty air behind him, reaching for the elusive doorknob. He forced his eyes onto her face and off the parts of the spandexed form that kept trying to draw his attention. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry… I think I’ve got the wrong—”

  The young woman straightened and turned to face him. Her hair fell around her heart-shaped, freckled face, and her green eyes narrowed at him. “Josh?”

  He frowned, his mortification dwindling as something else nagged at his mind. Now, right-side up, the face that stared back at him was suddenly familiar.

  The side of her mouth curved upward. “You didn’t recognize me, did you? I’m Alex…from Ocean Beach—remember?”

  Then it hit him. “Alex. From California. Right.” Why hadn’t he remembered that Chloe had a new roommate? She’d mentioned Alexandria Hailey several times since their family reunion trip last summer, but he’d only been half-listening. Somehow he’d missed the part about Alex moving to Denver and rooming with his sister. Now he felt even more like an idiot, if that were possible.

  “Is Chloe here?” he asked.

  “Nope. She’s at class.” Alex bit back a grin, putting her hands on her hips and cocking her head. “So. Is there a reason you’re…uh…” Her eyes lingered on his lanky form.

  His face burned. “I was taking a shower, and my water got turned off. I was wondering if I could use Chloe’s…your…bathroom.”

  She shrugged. “Sure. Help yourself.”

  He shuffled to the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Real smooth.

  As the hot water pounded over him, he heaved a sigh. He thought about the young woman in the other room. He had met her in California, but she’d mostly hung out with Chloe, and he and his brother, Cam, had been too busy surfing to do much socializing. Cam had still been hung up on Jade then, so he hadn’t been his normal flirting, charming, woman-magnet self, and the two of them had pretty much stuck together.

  Finally de-soaped, Josh was beginning to relax when a realization made him tense up again. He hadn’t brought any clothes. That meant he would either have to trek back to his apartment in the same half-naked manner he’d come or steal something from Chloe’s closet. And there was no way he was parading past Alex in one of his sister’s skimpy silk robes.

  Seriously, a memory-erasing power would be pretty sweet right about now so he could get out without Alex ever knowing he’d been here. Why was he the only Schuyler child without some sort of supernatural talent?

  He’d often wished for Chloe’s lack of pain when he’d stubbed a toe, and he could’ve probably come up with something useful to do with Cam’s déjà vu if he’d been blessed with it. And what about all the other weird gifts that had been creeping into their lives lately? A young woman who was an empath, a guy with super strength, and some psycho who could see in the dark? It was uncanny how all these traits had circled around him recently. What he would give to not be normal.

  He stepped out of the shower, nabbing one of his sister’s fresh towels. It was fuzzy and yellow, but it was dry. At least it wasn’t pink. Wrapping it around his waist, he looked in the mirror, thinking about how to slip past Alex. Suddenly every flaw in his physique turned glaringly obvious. He wished he had Cam’s pecs right now. Not that he had a gut or anything, but he was a lot scrawnier than his uber-muscled brother.

  Maybe he didn’t need to worry about it. Maybe Alex had gone back to her room. Maybe he’d be able to sneak out without an awkward parting confrontation.

  He opened the door as silently as possible, but when he walked into the next room, there she was, sitting on the couch with a textbook on her lap. She looked over at him and smiled.

  Josh gave a
tense nod, hoping to make a beeline past her and to the door as efficiently as possible. “Thanks for letting me use your shower.”

  “Sure,” she said. “That was Downward-Facing Dog, by the way.”

  He stared at her blankly.

  “You know, yoga. That was the Downward-Facing Dog pose. I just thought maybe you were wondering what I was doing—you had a weird look on your face.”

  “I did?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh. Well, I guess for a second I was wondering why your…er, why you were upside down.” His face was suddenly hot.

  “I do yoga every day. It helps calm me.”

  “Right.”

  “You ever tried it?”

  “No.” He wasn’t sure what to say. He moved to go, but she spoke again.

  “So your brother’s coming to town next week, huh?”

  “Yeah…”

  “He’s staying with you?”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Chloe keeps talking about us all going to a movie together when Cam’s in town. Are you going to come, too?”

  Every awkward bone in his body ached to flee, to escape to his apartment and lock the door behind him. He was standing here in a towel, and she wanted to chit chat?

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “Cool.”

  “Well, I gotta go,” he finally managed, grabbing the doorknob.

  “Okay. See you ’round.”

  Just as he was pulling open the door, Chloe walked up and stopped just outside the threshold. She looked him up and down and raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

  “Long story,” he mumbled, pushing past her.

  “Hey! Is that my towel?”

  He ignored her, hurrying back to his apartment as quickly as possible.

  ~

  Nicodemus Zachau walked into the Victorian-decorated foyer of the old folk’s home and strode past the front desk. Francine Marshall’s room was the third on the left down the hunter-green carpeted hallway. He entered the small amber-lit bedroom and found its occupant sitting in a wingback chair, staring at the perfectly manicured back lawn of the retirement center. A skein of yarn with a tail looped around a crochet hook sat nearby, forgotten.

  “Hello, Mrs. Marshall.”

  Startled at the sound, she jumped and turned around. The first look on her face was that of frustration…of being interrupted? Or because she knew who it was?

  But he was already passing the center of the room and near her chair when she met his eyes.

  “Why, Nicholas, what a surprise!” Beneath folds of wrinkles, her eyes crinkled at the edges, decades’ worth of crow’s feet piled on top of each other. He squatted at her feet, and one of her bony hands landed on his shoulder as softly as a drifting leaf.

  “How are you?”

  “As good as ever. If they’d let me go home, I’d be a lot more comfortable, though. How are you, Nicholas?”

  Several months back when he’d first met her, he’d introduced himself as just Nic, and she, condescending as ever, had wrongly inferred his actual name—and infuriatingly called him by the substitution ever since.

  He frowned. “Oh, not good. Not good at all. My sister’s condition is much worse. They want to start treatments next week, but we don’t have the money.” The back story was for the sake of the staff, in case anyone passed her door while he was here.

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Nicholas. Is there anything I can do?”

  Most likely her vision was poor, so just to be doubly sure, he leaned closer to her, only about a foot from her face. He gazed into her pale eyes with a piercing stare, locking on her pupils. First a curious expression and then a glazed look came over her face.

  “I need you to write me another check. Fifteen thousand.”

  She answered dully, the fog still thick in her eyes. “Fifteen thousand.”

  Nic brought her purse from beneath the nightstand and handed it to her, and she dug out the checkbook. While writing the check, she had to drop her gaze, but Nic made sure it wasn’t for more than half a minute. When she looked up, her eyes were still slightly unfocused. He grabbed the check from her without smiling. The act of politeness was only necessary until he could made eye contact. After that, the magic worked on its own.

  He stood, eyes still on her, and slowly backed out of the room. Movement through the open door alerted him to a nurse passing in the hall. When he spoke, it was slightly louder than normal. “Goodbye, Mrs. Marshall. Have a good evening.”

  Reaching her doorway, he shoved the check into his pocket and headed out into the corridor, nodding at the nurse as he walked by. “What a sweet lady,” he said with a smile, gesturing at Mrs. Marshall’s door.

  The nurse stopped and smiled at him. “Yes, she is.”

  “Sad about her episodes, though. Alzheimer’s can be really tough.”

  The nurse started to nod when a hoarse yelling came from within the room. “Help! Somebody help me! I’ve been robbed.”

  Nic shook his head with a sad smile, and the nurse turned for the old woman’s room. When she disappeared, he hurried out of the building. The fresh dough was burning a hole in his pocket. Now to spend it.

  Alexandria Hailey left campus, registering each building and every tree with an odd sense of familiarity, almost as if her new roots were finally beginning to take hold. She’d moved from California six weeks earlier, and this was her first inclination that Denver could feel like her home. But this commonplace sameness, this rhythm of classrooms, professors, and campus landmarks didn’t calm her restlessness. Instead, it brought an awareness of all she’d left behind—was she really ready for this place to become her new home?

  With thoughts of Ocean Beach in her mind, she called her mom on the drive back to her apartment.

  “Hi, sweetie!” Irene’s pleasantly surprised voice comforted Alex that she’d made the right decision in seeking her mother as a sounding board.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  “I’ve been wanting to tell you that I’m really sorry I couldn’t come up to help you move in. I hope your dad helped you get everything worked out.”

  “No, he was flying that weekend—remember? I sent you an email after I got moved in. Anyway, that was like six weeks ago.”

  “Sorry, I’ve haven’t had time to check my email in a while.”

  “That’s okay.” Alex caught her hands tapping rhythmically on the steering wheel and stilled them. She took a breath to calm down her movements. “Mom, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

  “Is it quick?”

  “Well, I was just wanting to talk to you about life stuff…”

  “Now’s not a great time for a long convo, honey. I have to leave for work in about ten minutes, and I just got out of the shower.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  “We can talk later though, okay?”

  “You’re working all night?”

  “Yeah. And another long shift tomorrow. Maybe try calling after the weekend’s over, okay?”

  “Right. Okay. Talk to you later.”

  And now Alex remembered why she so rarely called her mother, whose life had always been busy, whether or not her daughter was a part of it.

  Alex walked up the exterior steps to her second-floor apartment, passing Josh’s door on the way. Her thoughts flitted to their encounter last week. It had been awkward, and Josh had seemed a bit odd, but she would have to start making new friendships sooner or later. Tonight she, Chloe, Josh, and Cam were all going to see a movie. It was a good start.

  At home, Alex settled on the sofa and pulled out her phone. No texts—from Chloe or anyone. It was a little weird having this new void in her life. Back in Ocean Beach her phone was constantly pinging with texts from her friend Elei or from Ferno and the other band members. It had been over a week since she’d talked to Ferno. She decided to give him a call.

  An odd commotion of sounds came over the line after she dialed. It sounded like chatting and background music. Then laughing.
“Fernando?” she said.

  “Heya, Alex. Whatcha doin’ callin’ me that? Only my abuella calls me that.”

  “Sorry, I wasn’t sure if it was you. It’s loud over there. What’s going on?”

  “Oh, sorry. Just a sec.” The background noise dimmed, and it sounded like a door latched. “Aiden’s having a cookout.”

  “Sounds like it’s getting crazy.”

  “A little bit, yeah.” There was a smile in his voice. “So what’s up?”

  “Not much. I just wanted to see how everything is going. Have you guys found a new drummer yet?”

  “No…”

  “Any leads?”

  “Actually, I think we’ve all sorta moved on.”

  “Moved on? How so?”

  “We all have different things going on. I…well, I’ve had other stuff to think about lately.”

  Alex wondered what that could mean, but before she could ask, he continued. “Aiden’s playing—and coaching—volleyball full time. Travis is…well, he’s Travis. You know how he is.”

  “Not into playing music unless it’s helping him hook up with girls?”

  Ferno chuckled. “Yeah, pretty much. And he actually has a girlfriend now.”

  “Whoa. Travis? Really?”

  “Yeah. Boggles the mind, doesn’t it? She’s not really into music, though, so I don’t see him spending much time with his keyboard in the near future.”

  “Wow. So it’s over. It’s not my fault for moving, is it?”

  “No, it was bound to happen after we graduated. We all have other responsibilities now.”

  “How’s it going with you? Getting used to your new digs?”

  “Sort of,” Alex said. “It’s a little weird not knowing many people yet.”

  “I’m sure you’ll make friends in no time. You’re good at that.”

  “Hopefully. I’m looking forward to your visit next weekend, though. I can’t wait for you and the rest of the gang to see my new place. And I found the perfect coffee shop here—you’ll love it. I thought we might even be able to play an acoustic set there, since the whole band is coming.”