Page 34 of Jump or Fall
“Is there a way to get out of the city?”
The abrupt change in topic startled her. “Why?”
“I don’t want to live the rest of my life in the Outskirts. Just tell me if there’s a way out—one that doesn’t involve forged papers and trying to hide my fucked-up face.”
Kimmie rubbed her chin, weighing something. “I’ll help you leave if you find this guy.”
He extended a hand. “Done.”
Chapter 13
Gordon - Four Years Earlier
Shaving had once been such an innocuous thing.
But now, every sound was drowned out by the rush of blood in his ears. His heart was beating so erratically it moved his arm with every thump.
The razor scraped across his skin—so much like the long blade that had sliced his cheek apart.
Just do it, you fucking coward.
His hand shook as he neared the long, puckered scar and he nicked himself.
“Fuck!”
He threw the razor down and sank to the floor.
Of all the days to have a fucking half-beard, it was one where he’d be meeting with Kimmie again.
The young enforcer was puzzling. One minute she was interrogating him, and the next, she was giving him scar salve and setting him up in a studio apartment.
The apartment was far better than the hostel he’d been crashing in before. The furniture wasn’t falling apart and the air didn’t reek of mildew and cigarettes. Everything was relatively clean compared to the view outside. He’d spotted a couple cockroaches, but after laying out some repellent strips, they vanished. It felt like a small victory.
His new neighbors had seemed skeptical when he first showed up, but they immediately came out once Kimmie appeared. It was clear that she was well-liked and respected in Eight.
With a grunt, Gordon heaved himself up, using the bathroom counter for balance. The sight of the blood on his cheek almost sent him back to the floor, but he steadied himself on his elbows and rinsed his face with water. He squeezed his eyes shut to avoid the blood washing down the drain and fumbled through a drawer for the knock-off Rapiderm.
Once the cut was healed, he glared at his reflection.
He looked like an idiot with only half his face shaved. An ugly idiot with the scar. His first day in the apartment he’d disabled the display in the mirror. He didn’t need ads reminding him of what he already knew.
Gordon grabbed at his hair, pulling it down as far as it would go. Useless. It barely reached the tops of his ears. It would take a while to grow out.
There was no choice but to use the hair removal gel he’d found in the drawer. It wasn't expired and still had the safety seal.
He shook the bottle, another Masaru Beauty product, and followed the instructions on the side. It smelled awful, but within minutes, his face was smooth.
Why was it effeminate to use this stuff? It was so much more convenient.
Stupid gender shit.
He left the bathroom feeling slightly better about getting rid of the itchy beard. The smell of the gel still clung to his skin, but it was better than the razor.
He chugged a glass of water and downed a few crackers to settle his stomach. The food sat heavy in his gut, but after a few minutes he felt less lightheaded.
Once he was sure he wouldn’t fall over, he headed outside.
The air hit him like a wet blanket—heavy, humid, and full of the scent of rust and trash. He was getting the hang of his small area of the Division and could navigate a few of the levels without getting lost now.
