8
Chapter Eight
SIN
This girl is goingto make my life hell. Forget that…she already has. I lunge for her, pulling her into my arms and lift her from the ground as she tries to fight me off. I get it. I understand why—I've seen what starvation does to people, and she's about to see it firsthand too.I have to get us food."Reese, stop," I hiss into her ear.
JJ continues for us with his bag full of venom grown berries. Yeah, that's how things happen around here. When there are no weapons, people get creative.
"Who's the girl, Sin?" JJ asks. "You know what I think about another mouth to feed?" I know what he's thinking, which is why I won't let her have the bag.
"I'm starving," she groans, kicking me and slapping at my arms. "I need food. Why won't you let me eat?"
"I'll take care of this situation," I tell JJ. "She's just a runaway."
"From where?" he laughs, displaying his rotten, broken teeth.
"The Safe Hole," I tell him.
"That ain't possible, boy. You lying to me?"
I place Reese down on her feet, shoving her behind me, hoping she at least knows to keep her mouth shut as I take the couple steps up to JJ. "It doesn't matter what you think. You aren't going to do a damn thing about it. Are you?" I ask him. JJ doesn't care about the height difference. He presses his finger into the center of my chest, proving he's not worried about what I can do to him.
"I'll kill her. Then you," he grunts. I know I shouldn't laugh. I know I should walk away, but laughter mixed with rage rolls through me anyway. I thrust the heels of my palms into his shoulders and shove him backward, forcing him to trip over his feet. His bag goes flying and the berries I knew he had in there pour out. He struggles to get up, making it easy to see what the desertion has done to him—what it's taken from him. I don't know how he's managed to survive here for so long.
"Walk away, JJ," I seethe. Crossing my arms over my chest, I watch as he looks down toward the ground to where the berries are scattered. I know he won't leave them there. Defeat plays through his eyes as he drops to his knees and rakes them up into his hands. Desperation is a scary sight. Even after all of these years.
Once he's collected every last berry, he limps off with the bag and settles himself back down into the dirt against one of the sheds, mumbling obscenities under his breath.One problem avoided. For now.
I turn back to face the other problem. "What the hell were you thinking?" I scold her.
"I'm starving," she grits.
"Want to die today?" I ask.
"What kind of question is that?" For someone who was locked up and didn't speak for years, she certainly has a way of expressing her opinions without missing a beat.
"A simple one. Do you want to die today?"
"Obviously not," she snaps.
"Good. Then don't take shit from anyone. Got it?"
She narrows her eyes at me as her nostrils flare slightly. I laugh silently to myself, realizing the angrier this girl gets, the cuter she is. And I shouldn't be considering this fact. She's dangerous to be around. She's a hazard. A damn, beautiful hazard. "Do your good moods have an expiration date or something? Because they only last about thirty seconds before you turn into a raging asshole again," she says.
"Don't confuse my ability to be nice for being in a good mood." Irritated, hungry, and pretty ticked off, I take her by the elbow and drag her along. "Let's get you some food, princess." I can feel her glaring stare burn into the back of my neck and the thought makes me smile a bit. She's sort of fun to piss off.
We stay along the backside of the sheds, keeping out of sight from the rest of the starving people until we reach the end of the row. Slowly, we turn the corner, keeping tight to the side of the last shed where our path opens up into a large pit.
Looks like we've arrived just in time to watch the crate descend from the chopper above. The prisoners all stand silently, watching. Waiting. Most are wide-eyed with their mouths hanging open. Although, no one knows how much or how little is in the crate this week, they just know there is something inside. "What is that?" Reese whispers into my ear.
"Food," I tell her, feeling the tips of her fingers dig into my bicep. An ounce of sadness runs through me as I realize she doesn't understand the likelihood of seeing what is inside the crate. "How many people do you think are out there?" I ask her.
She looks around for a moment before taking a guess. "I don't know, fifty or sixty people?"
"Close," I tell her. "How much food do you think can fit into that crate?"
She shrugs at my question and I see her hopefulness melt away with each passing second. "Can we try to get something?" she asks, moving beside me in an attempt to walk toward the pit.
