In my world, kindness always has a physical price.
The fact that he refused does something to me more than if he had accepted.
"Sorry," I say, sitting down slowly on the edge of the mattress, feeling a bit embarrassed and confused.
Callum exhales sharply, rubbing the side of his face.
"Look, I'm dead already just by being here captured. If you don't kill me and let me go, Cormac will, so." I shrug. "And my body is yours if you want it."
Callum stares at me as though I've spoken a language he doesn't recognize.
"Why do you say that?"
"Well, Cormac won't like that I ran off and…"
"No." He cuts me off. "About your body."
"Oh." I shrug, pulling the robe tighter around me. "It's what men desire. In the Order we obey."
"Yeah, but you're not in the Order when you're here."
I look down at the ground, my eyes stinging. "It's all I know."
He nods. "Well, let's just make one thing clear, I don't want your body. Far from it."
His words sting a little but I'm not sure if it's because he's making me question all I've ever learned about my worth or because that means I have less power here than I did at the Order.
Or maybe something else entirely.
"So if you don't want me," I ask, "what do you want?"
"Information," he says, crossing his arms. "For starters, how to find this brother George who killed my father, or gave the nurse the IV bags and your father, Cormac. You must know everything I need to end this."
I nod slowly. "Maybe. I'm not sure I have the capability of saving anyone. I know a lot, sure, but as for my father, he's got tricks even I don't know about. I mean, he doesn't really care about me much."
His phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out, glances at the screen, and curses under his breath.
"I need to leave."
He turns and walks toward the door and panic grips me, not because he's going, but because I need to understand the rules here.
"Oh, umm." I stand. "The TV. Am I allowed to watch it?"
He pauses, turning back to look at me. His eyes narrow like he's about to say something, but he stops himself.
"I don't care, just don't kill yourself."
He heads for the door again.
I hesitate, then blurt out, "Food." I clear my throat. "Is there more food?"
He stops and looks at me without speaking for a moment.
Finally he does. "What do you want?"
"Pizza? Do you have pizza?" My voice comes out softer, showing how scared I am to ask.
"Really?"
