US (Formerly The After Effect - Book 2)

28 - C O N F I D E

"Sorry to crash the party," someone snickers, waking me up. I massage my stiff eyeballs and have a look around. Brink is still beside me, but he's awake and propped up on his elbow, his eyes deadlocked on whoever is behind me.

Travis and the rest of his group stands there looking ready to kick some ass. But if anything, we should look ready to kick theirs after the way they betrayed me and the guys. I feel my shoulders tense as I sit up. My posture involuntarily straightens to a broader position.

"We saw the smoke from the fire and followed it," Travis explains harshly as he glares at me. Or is it beyond me, at Brink?

The third amigo, Kyle, joins up with Jared and Mason, who are finally clothed again. My eyes follow him as he is bro-hugged and shares relief with the others. I wonder if Travis had an inkling I'd survive the river, because he doesn't act surprised to see me alive and well. Maybe he's annoyed I'm in a suit again. It tends to symbolize loyalty to the other side. The side he detests. The side my DNA is on, and recently, my brain.

I blink a few times and squint, realizing my field of vision is surrounded with times and dates, like I've suddenly manned the control center of a ship. In the upper right hand corner of my view is the time—five o'clock in the morning. Date: December twenty-first. It's practically Christmas time, and the idea of holidays brings me to a negative place. Family, presents, the works, no longer exists.

After at first being confused by this technology, I grasp that it's the suit connection to my body; it must have fully transferred over to me. So do I get access to a GPS like Brink?

Up pops a translucent window with a vague image of the east coast. If I pinch my eyes, it zooms in. Distracted by the new tech, I don't hear more of Travis's word spillage. Until his next set of loud and angry words.

"Aurora," Travis urges, as if he's been repeating himself. "Are you going to explain yourself?"

"No...but thanks for waking me up," I say as I rise to my feet. I'm not bitchy—at least I'm not trying to be—I'm purely straightforward and to the point. I'm not looking to get into any sort of argument right now, and don't need anyone else fighting either. Cough cough—him and Brink.

"I'm not looking for one, but if he gets in my face, it won't be good for him. I shouldn't have done this. I knew it was too soon. Now we have to listen to his rage."

"Why are you wearing that?" Travis asks, nodding to the suit.

"I was hypothermic when they arrived. It was a quick solution. Stella was generous enough to lend it to me temporarily." I find myself searching for her in the crowd, and spot her next to Zeriah, leaning against a thick tree and watching us.

Travis's huffing and puffing arises, the fury in him building as he chomps down and pops his jaw bone out. "Why were you laying with that bastard?" he growls. Any angrier and Stella will step in. She will contain any issues before they blow up.

"I don't know, why did you have hickies all over your neck the other day?" I throw back at him. It's the first time I've brought it up.

Brink stiffens at my side.

"Don't worry. Jada already told me, so it doesn't matter if you lie or give me the truth." I roll my eyes and turn away from him, heading toward the fire. I'm so unused to the technology sprinkled among my field of vision. I keep thinking I can remove it like glasses.

"So you did it to get back at me?" Travis calls, stomping his way over. I listen to the crunching beneath his feet to judge his distance, and when the snow turns to leaves, I know he's close behind.