“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Making sure she’s all right.” The voice was more rumble than sound. The world was hazy, and sleep pulled at her eyelids. A peculiar feeling came over her, something oddly familiar yet not. Warmth. She felt warm. “She was so weak she passed out.”
The guard.
“Geez, Coop. What part of ‘leave the prisoners’ alone is so hard for you to understand?” The man was angry with the guard who’d taken her food and blankets. It was a feeling she could relate to.
“Relax,” Coop said. “She wasn’t faking. She’s not a danger.”
A disbelieving grunt. “You have no idea what she’s capable of.”
“You’re right. I don’t. But she’s not going to hurt me.” Even sleepy, she recognized how sure he sounded—more sure than she was. If she could hurt him, would she take the chance?
Silence met Coop’s assertion. She counted the beats of her heart while waiting to see if the man would respond. When she reached seventeen, he said, “Don’t let the boss catch you with her, Coop. It won’t be you who’s punished.”
A few creaks of a weapons belt and boots later, and the footfalls faded. He’d left.
She felt herself being jostled. “You can open your eyes now. He’s gone.”
Her eyes snapped open. Bright blue eyes stared back at her, amusement hidden in the wrinkles in the corners. She blinked, her surroundings slowly coming in focus. His face. His chest. A wall behind him. Her arms grazing his abdomen and her legs thrown over his arms. Red crept up her face, blooming in her cheeks, and she struggled against his hold and felt the blanket wrapped around her become tangled.
His brows drew together. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Sam held her glare and continued struggling. Sighing, he set her next to a chair. With her feet under her, she got her first good look at the room. Two separate stations held black and white televisions with flickering images of rooms and hallways. Opposite of the screens held a large map of a building—the one they were in. The Northern Alliance Betterment Society’s compound.
She was in its control room.
Before she could open her mouth to ask, he sat down and wrapped one arm around her hips to keep her close. To keep her imprisoned. He said, “Lesson two: we’re always watching.”
Sam watched his finger snake out to point at the screens in front of them. Most were dark. No signs of movement inside, though the screens refreshed themselves every few seconds, so she knew they were working.
He shouldn’t be telling her this.
“I’m the night shift, so it’s quiet.”
If it had ever been loud, she’d never heard it.
“You’re over here,” he continued, pointing at three televisions near the top to their left. “The holding cells are far away from the rest of the compound. You probably don’t hear much.”
She nodded without realizing it, lost in confusion.
“I know you’re wondering why I’m telling you this.”
The words, so close to her thoughts, pulled her back, and Sam looked down to see those blue eyes glittering again. A stray piece of hair fell across his forehead. Words deserted her, so she raised an eyebrow in question.
He shrugged. “I’d be curious.”
He stood up and adjusted his hold on her. Smiling, he said, “But you’ll just have to wait to find out.”