I’d told him that many times, but nothing had changed. Because Cipher didn’t listen to me. Because the rules were different.
“I don’t deserve you,” he said in a way that made it sound as if he’d given up. We were doomed, I thought, because as long as he believed it, there was nothing I could do to fix it. Could it be that he was screwing things up on purpose? Sabotaging our relationship in order to force me to leave him? The possibility made me angry. Not just angry, furious. He could have come home that night like he’d promised. We could have had a lovely evening together on his rare night off. Instead, he’d gone off and gotten drunk with creeper Jeremiah and Brother Larry who treated me like a nuisance on the best of days. And how was it possible for my boyfriend to be this wasted when alcohol was forbidden? Only to some of us, apparently. The rules must not apply to those within Brother Larry’s inner circle.
“Youaregoing to fuck this up,” I said to him. “If you keep thinking like that and pushing me away and isolating yourself from me and our friends when you should be doing the opposite. I may not have had a boyfriend before, but I’ve had people in my life who’ve loved me, and if you could just get over yourself for one minute, you might realize that I can’t do this for the both of us. You have to want it, Cipher, and you have to fight for it. I can’t force you to love me. I can’t force you to do anything.”
I threw up my hands in frustration. That was the truth, the painful, honest-to-God truth. I couldn’t love him enough for us both. He blinked at me in shock, and I could only assume that even in his drunken haze, some of my meaning must have come through.
“You don’t have to force me to love you, Kitten. I already do.”
“Then act like it,” I said savagely. I saw the hurt register on his face, but there was only so much I could take.
“Come here,” he said and opened his arms.
“No.”
“Please?”
Stupid, stupid tears. They flowed hot and fast down my cheeks as my throat grew thick, choked by my own emotion. I was so mad at him, and still, I loved him with all my heart. It was torture, to care about someone so much. I was pissed and I was hurt but I still craved his warmth and affection, so I crawled into bed and let him soothe me with his stupid arms and his stupid words, softly spoken.
“You’re right, Kitten. I’ve had my head all the way up my ass, but I swear I will figure out my shit and own it. I will fight for you and for us because you’re everything to me. Okay?” He sobered up a little as he lifted my chin. “Do you hear me? I don’t ever want to lose you.”
I nodded at the sincerity shining in his eyes. “I don’t want to be lost.”
We clung to each other as if that alone might save us. It seemed the farther apart we drifted, the tighter we held on.
FIFTEEN
CIPHER
I wokewith a sourness in my mouth that tasted like tequila and regret, and I could tell by the way the sun was shining that it was well past morning. Kitten was gone already, probably having left for work hours ago. I remembered Jeremiah bringing me home last night, drunk off my ass, Macon carrying me up the stairs, and Kitten helping me get ready for bed, removing my leg and rubbing it out for me… and as I reached for my artificial limb, I recalled pieces of our argument, enough to know I’d made a mess of things. Again.
“Fuck me,” I muttered. Wincing again at the window, which made my head throb even more, I wondered when Kitten had closed it. He was a human furnace, even with the cooler night temperatures we’d been having lately, and we always slept with the window at least cracked. The pounding in my head distracted me, a sharp, jabbing pain that made me want to gouge out my own eyes.
Kitten had left me a glass of water on the nightstand–ever thoughtful–so I took a few sips. His inhaler was there too, along with the two-way-radios, one that he used to communicate with Marion, the other that he used to communicate with us. Strange. He never went anywhere without them.
I picked up one of them and said, “Marion, this is Cipher. Is Joshua there with you?”
It took only a moment for her to respond. “No, he hasn’t shown up yet. I figured he might not be feeling well. He’s seemed a little bit off the past few days.”
Probably my fault too.
“Call me if he comes in, will you? He left his inhaler and his walkie talkies at home.”
“Will do, Cipher.”
Despite my hangover, my senses were alert to the fact that Kitten was not where he should be. I used our Assholes-only radio to check in with our crew and got word back from all but Artemis, who was probably busy with the children. None of them had seen him that morning, not even at breakfast. Everyone had figured he’d slept in late with me.
“What the fuck is going on?” I muttered, assembling myself with more urgency. Was it possible he went off on his own for a bit of reflection? Possible but not likely. We’d employed the buddy system for a reason, and even with his grumbling, Kitten stuck to it religiously. Because he was a good boy who followed the rules. Not me though. “Do as I say, not as I do” was my motto because I was the asshole who did whatever the fuck he wanted. Kitten had called me on my bullshit last night. I’d made him cry. Fuck.
Just as I was considering how I might make it up to him, my work radio cackled to life with Larry’s voice, sounding rather somber, “Cipher, report to the armory, ASAP.”
“What is it?” I asked as a cold dread numbed my limbs.
“We have a situation. I’m not going to discuss it over the radio where anyone might hear. Just get down here as quick as you can.”
I grabbed Kitten’s inhaler, his radios, his knife–heneverleft without his knife–and I took off at a fast clip to the armory, my heart a frantic drumbeat of worry and alarm.
Where the fuck was Kitten?
