My lips press together tightly. “I did… Ido.” My chest constricts with the conflicting emotions.
He returns to my side. “I don’t know how you ever manage to keep yourself alive.” He chuckles, changing the subject. I can tell it’s making him uncomfortable so I decide to roll with it.
“Because I love a criminal?” I toss the medical tape roll at him.
“Yes, that and your innocent demeanor. It’s very deceiving.”
“I learned from the best,” I mock the tone he used earlier and he chuckles.
“Anyway, Greg has a briefing planned for eight o’clock this evening. We’ll meet in the dealings room on the fourth floor.” He smiles, not that it ever meets his eyes, but I return one back anyway and hop off the table.
“Is everyone going to be in attendance?” I inquire as I linger by the door.
“Yes, your father has quite the announcement for the family so make sure you arrive early. Oh, and don’t bother the guard in your hallway, he’ll be attending the briefing too.” He rubs his fingers overthe bloody bullet pulled from my flesh. My eyes linger there before I nod and leave.
Well, that was weird.
I’ve never known Reed to give vague answers about the briefings. He didn’t give me a straight answer about Cameron either. And what was with the guard comment? The interaction makes me antsy, but I try to put it out of my mind.
I acknowledge the guard with a brief dip of my head as I walk by Cameron’s room.
I wonder if I’m allowed to see him. It was permitted when he woke up from his surgeries. Is that why Reed mentioned that the guard will be attending the meeting, so that I can sneak in? I twist the ends of my braids anxiously and dare a look over my shoulder at the guard standing post.
Something feels off.
I groan and press my hands to my face as I shut the door behind me, sliding to my bedroom floor.I shouldn’t care about someone who literally just tried to kill me. Who lied to me and pushed me away.But no matter how long I try to get him out of my head, I can’t.
The shower runs hot. I scrub all the blood and dirt from my skin before doing a final rinse on my hair. I decide to wear my formal “family attire” that my father had added to my wardrobe. He thinks it’s important to display not only power to the other families, but to also show them that we have class.
Oh, please.My hands constantly have a red tint to them. I have anything but class. The meatloaf of a body I left behind in our rival family’s factory for some unfortunate person to find will surely prove that matter.
The navy blue dress is slick like a suit. The cuffs at the end of the sleeves are adorned with gold thread and buttons. A white collar is sewn in, making the top look sharp. The bottom portion is pleated, allowing easy movement.
A frown pulls at the corners of my mouth when I see that the bandage on my leg is visible. I slip on some black tights and pull on my combat-grade wedged boots. They are easily the best creation ever made, complete with four-inch daggers in the heel. You know, just in case.
I let my hair dry before curling it. The locks go down to my lower back and complement my dress better than I thought they would. I look at myself in the mirror and firm my lips as I hide the scar on my forehead beneath my bangs. Then, I take in the rest of my appearance, not particularly recognizing the person staring back.
This is a show of power.My father wants the families to see that he has his little executioner back. That I’m of sound mind, even though that couldn’t be further from the truth.
I smile at the prospect of showing up late because it would undoubtedly piss him off. I plan on seeing Cameron before I head down. Even if we don’t speak, I just want to know that he’s okay. The unease that Reed left me with still lingers in the back of my mind.
It’s not like I’m forbidden to leave my room, but still, I carefully open the door and peek in each direction before making my way twenty feet down the hall to Cameron’s room. The guard is gone, just like I knew he would be. Anyone late to these meetings gets severely punished, so I expect everyone to be on the fourth floor by now.
I hope this doesn’t get me in trouble. Although I can’t necessarily remember whattroublelooks like for me since I’m always following orders. It’s probably not that bad.
I pause at the threshold, hand raised to the wood and ready to knock. I don’t know what makes me hesitate, but the second I hear chains rattling, I remember the night I heard the same sound while reading. Horror flashes down my spine and sends me into motion. I forgo knocking and try the door handle. It’s locked.
I can’t ignore this.
I kick the door open. It loudly smacks the wall as I stride in, expecting to find him cuffed to the table, or something more innocent than what I discover.
My stomach churns when I see his body. Any animosity I held for Cameron melts as my eyes take in the dark bruises over his ribs, the blood-drenched bandages over his chest, arms, and back. His hands are elevated above his head, arms chained in front of him with an extension that hangs from the wall above, preventing him from being able to rest. He has no chair, bed, or blankets and is forced to stand in misery.
Cameron’s hair is messy and falls over his forehead as he slowly lifts his head and looks up at me.
Everything hits me like a freight train when his eyes fill with vulnerability and surprise to see me.
His cheeks are hollowed, lips chapped. But more than anything, I see the lost spirit in his gaze.
