He hadn’t even heard the door open or noticed he wasn’t alone anymore. He was so out of it he had been unaware of his surroundings in an unfamiliar place. It filled him with dread.
“I come in peace.” Trace leaned casually against the door and crossed his legs at the ankles.
He was even taller than Fix. Looming and large, dressed in all black, and decorated with more ink and metal than Cane, which was saying something.
“I’m fine,” Wren said, wishing for nothing more than to be alone.
“Neither of you are fine,” Trace said, rolling his eyes. “But I’ll let the lie slide. For now.”
“I’m not gonna cause trouble; you don’t have to watch over me.” Wren crossed his arms over his chest, scowling.
“I love trouble. In fact, if you and I compared notes, I bet you’d find I’m much more proficient at it than you are.” He winked at Wren after saying it, and Wren frowned.
“Prove it.”
“I don’t exactly carry around a proof file with me at all times that I can whip out of my ass at a moment’s notice.”
Wren snorted. “So you’re a liar.”
Trace narrowed his eyes. “You sure like pushing buttons, don’t you? No wonder he’s so infatuated. You’re probably the only one who can get under his skin.”
The last bit was so quiet that Wren couldn’t be sure he hadn’t just imagined it because he was dying to hear it. “What was that?”
“I spent most of my early life running away from the law before finally joining Nexus and becoming this,” Trace said instead of answering him, which made Wren want to monkey climb his back and hang there annoyingly until he gave in. “They wiped my file clean, but it was…extensive.”
As the words sank in, Wren abruptly froze. “You didn’t grow up in Nexus?”
“Streets. Under bridges sometimes. Squatting. You name it, I tried it.”
“How’d they get you?”
Trace chuckled. “I got them.”
Wren flinched, the reaction so violent he couldn’t have controlled it. “You joined willingly?”
He knew he sounded judgmental, almost disgusted by the mere idea, but he couldn’t help himself. This man…he’d hadfreedom. He’d had what Wren so desperately craved and he’d thrown it away to become another nameless, faceless cog in the Nexus machine.
“I’m not Nexus’s bootlicker,” Trace said, as if reading his mind. “I went into it because I needed structure and a life away from the destruction I grew up around. They provided that.”
“Good for you.” Wren scoffed.
“I know—”
“I don’t think you do,” Wren said sharply.
He couldn’t know. He was never there. Nexus hadn’t saved Wren. They’d stolen him.
“I don’t know everything, but I know enough to be aware that Nexus isn’t the same for everyone.”
“One way of putting it,” Wren said, turning his back on Trace and looking into the distance, not really seeing anything but blurry shapes and smudged colors.
“Damir, he’s—”
“I don’t really want to talk about it.” Wren interrupted again. The name hurt him to hear, never mind the unwillingness he felt to share with this stranger. “If you don’t mind.”
He heard Trace take a few deep breaths, as if arguing with himself about whether to leave Wren alone or keep pressing. In the end, he decided to let it go.
“If you wanna talk to someone who’s crossed most boundaries, I’m willing to listen.”
