Branded

  He’s killing me.

  “Okay, okay… I’ll let it go.” He puts his hands up in defeat, then enters my room looking delicious.

  “I appreciate that. Thank you.” I close my eyes and sigh with relief.

  The sudden warmth of his skin against mine catches me off guard as he pulls me into a tight embrace. “I’m sorry… You have every right to know who’s watching your back. I’m just so—so torn I can’t think straight. I can’t seem to pull my head out of the clouds.” He rests his chin on my head.

  The sudden display of affection sends my heart fluttering and I feel conflicted. I long to stand like this forever and that scares me. I unwrap his arms and push him back, shoving down my desire for him. He puts his head in his hands, instantly apologetic. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He tears his hands from his head and leans forward, pleading to me with his whole body. “I’m so frustrated right now and don’t know what the hell to do. I want you to tell me. I want you to open up to me. I want to know what happened to you—from before you got here until now. I wish you’d just trust me with all of that.”

  I meet his eyes, willing myself to be honest with him even though it makes me feel vulnerable. “I really want to trust you, I do. But there’re times I feel like you’re lying to me and I just don’t know if I can.”

  “I could say the same for you. This entire time you never said a word about your innocence. Nothing. Don’t you think that’s a bit hypocritical?”

  I fiddle with my hands as they shake. My nerves can’t handle the stress of arguing with him. “I can’t,” I say. Unable to meet his gaze, I stare at the bag on the floor.

  “I don’t understand. After all we’ve been through, how many times I risked my life to save yours… you still can’t trust me. Why? What did I do?”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s me. I know it doesn’t make sense to you, but I just can’t talk about it.” A tear falls off my chin. “I’m begging you, please let it go.”

  He’s steel and I’m liquid. He turns away, retreating to his room, and I hear things slamming around. Zeus comes to my side and nudges my hand while whining. I slide down the wall, everything aching, and bow my head, defeated.

  Can anything ever go right? I’m so tired of being weak. I’m sick of being a victim. Damn it, I don’t have to tell him anything. He’s a guard for goodness sake, not family, not even my boss. The words keep going through my head, but I know they’re excuses for how I really feel.

  I push my back against the wall and walk myself up. I slide into his room and flop on his bed. I don’t care where he sleeps… but I do.

  He sees me as he munches on something like crackers for dinner. He didn’t even bother cooking whatever he brought back.

  I lie on my stomach, facing away from him and I feel Zeus hop onto the bed.

  “We really need to talk,” Cole says. He sits on the bed and places his hand on my lower back. His warm, tender touch makes it hard for me to breathe. I don’t want to hold a grudge against the only person who protects me, cares for me, bathes me, and maybe—just maybe—stays with me too.

  “Please, just please give me some time,” I say.

  What I don’t tell him is that I’m fighting a major battle within myself over him. It’s a hopeless war, but it rages on, giving me a headache. To trust or not to trust?

  Zeus pushes himself between us and Cole removes his hand, beaten. I feel the fireworks on my back where his hand once laid.

  “All right, but we need to talk tomorrow,” he says in a serious tone.

  “So, are we okay for now?” I plead. My entire being feels suspended.

  He lies down beside Zeus and reaches his arm over to touch me. “The last thing I want is for you to be afraid of me. But I want you to trust me. I need you to trust me.” He sighs and I hear the pain and confusion in his voice.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know why and it scares the hell out of me.” He swallows hard and then scratches the back of his head while biting his lower lip.

  Part of me screams for him to run for his own safety, yet I don’t want him to move. My heart begs… Please stay with me. Forever.

  “I hate when you leave, and that scares me too.” I face him and our eyes meet. I see the conflict between his duty and his feelings mirrored in his face. His dark eyes glitter in the light. The hand with the bloody knuckles rubs my shoulder, my arm, and then he touches my chin.

  I want more. So much more.

  Zeus yawns and rolls toward me, placing his paws in Cole’s face and ruining the moment.

  “Come on, Zeus!” he yells with aggravation as Zeus’s paws scratch him.

  I laugh freely, breaking the tension, but Zeus doesn’t budge.

  “I guess that’s how it’s going to be then,” Cole says with sarcasm as he flips off the light.

  “I hate leaving you,” he says into the darkness. “And that petrifies me.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Waking to the sound of gunshots doesn’t faze me anymore. Not a second goes by that I’m not reminded of where I am, who I am, and what I’m not.

  Heavy clouds, pregnant with water, drip, drip, drip down the windowsill. Zeus lies on the floor. I guess he was too hot on the bed overnight. Cole wraps around me with his warm breath hitting the back of my neck every time he exhales. We’re so close, but at the same time, not close enough. While he’s pressed against me, I trace the outline of his arm with my fingertips. His skin feels warm, smooth, and firm. A sigh escapes his lips. I wiggle around some, and eventually he stirs, releasing his grip. He grumbles something like an apology and rolls over. Dang.

  I shake him. “Hey, as much as I hate to wake you up. You better get your butt in gear or you’ll be late for roll call.” I take the opportunity to touch his hair and run my fingers down his faded haircut.

  He moans. “I’ll never get up if you keep doing that.”

  Oops. I pull my hand back, afraid I shouldn’t have touched him. Zeus starts howling at a light knock on the door and jumps onto the bed.

  “Dang it, Zeus!” Cole says in a grumpy voice. He leaps out of bed, disoriented. “Bruno must be here. Crap! I’m late.” He runs to the door in his sweatpants and opens it, expecting to see Bruno.

  Sutton stands there with water droplets running down his overcoat.

  “Hey, is something wrong?” Cole asks while rubbing his eyes in confusion.

  “No. I’m here to check on her, remember?” Sutton’s brows pull down, inspecting Cole’s appearance. “Are you going to let me in or do I have to stand here forever?”

  Cole opens the door wider. “Yeah, sure, come in. I was expecting Bruno, that’s all.”

  Sutton’s eyes scan the room critically over the rim of his fogged glasses. “Looks like she’s cleaned up the place.”

  “Uh, yeah… She got bored being cooped up all day. Can’t say I blame her really.” Cole doesn’t know how to act. He moves his hands to his hips, leans against the wall, and then crosses them.

  “Well, your room did look like it threw up.”

  “You’re right. It was pretty bad, but I blame Zeus for that.”

  If Sutton notices anything unusual, he ignores it. He carries a black leather bag that clinks as he walks. His face turns into a frown when he looks my way. “What part of ‘I want you to rest’ did you not understand?” He smooths his rumpled appearance, takes off his glasses, wipes them with his shirt, and places them back on the ridge of his nose.

  I make Zeus jump off the bed as Sutton sits down. I swear he knows two bodies were lying here by the shapes we left behind, so I distract him.

  “I know what you’re going to say… but laying around was driving me mad. I had to do something—”

  “You should show him the drawing of Alyssa. It’s amazing, really. It looks just like her,” Cole interjects.

  Sutton gives him an unhappy look and then returns his face to mine. “So, besides disobeying my orders, how are you?” He pulls a small
light out of his bag and examines my eyes.

  “Pretty good, actually. I’m able to move all my body parts without wanting to pass out, which makes me happy. This may sound funny, but I think I’m more flexible now.” Maybe that wasn’t the best choice of words. Lexi, you’re such a moron!

  “Interesting, let me take a look at your wound.” He puts on a pair of rubber gloves after washing his hands. He touches the back of my head where the gash was. It’s still sore but not as tender. “It’s healed up nicely. Let’s get rid of those staples.” He digs through the bag and shows me a small piece of equipment that looks like a pair of scissors with claws on the end.

  “Will this hurt?” I ask.

  “It’s not a pleasant experience, but you’ve been through worse. Trust me.” He bends my head down, tilting it into the light.

  A click of the contraption, followed by Sutton’s strong pull, leaves me with a sharp burning pain each time he pulls out a staple. I count as I hear each one clink into a metal pan. The pain only lasts a few seconds after the staple is pulled out, so I endure it without biting off my lip. Twenty-six staples? Are you kidding me?

  “At least you took care of your head,” Sutton says.

  I place my hand on the back of my head, running my finger down my scar. “Holy crap! You shaved the back of my head for that wimpy scar? That’s pathetic!”

  He takes my hand, moving it over a little to the left.

  “Ahh! It’s huge! How didn’t I notice before? It’s the size of a—”

  “Five inches in length and one inch in width,” Cole says. “I measured it when I helped wash your—”

  “When can I go back to work?” I blurt out to change the subject. I give Cole the drop-dead look that my mother perfected in her last few years, so he seals his mouth and decides to go get some food.

  “Be right back,” he says.

  Sutton watches Cole leave and answers me in a grim voice. “As soon as your bruises fade. We can’t have anyone questioning why you look like hell. This is never to be talked about again. Ever. Do you understand me?”

  His change of manner alarms me and something doesn’t feel right. His posture radiates tension and the tightness in his voice seems out of character for him.

  “Then tell me what’s going on,” I say.

  He fixes his glasses and meets my eyes with a drawn-out sigh. “It’s horrific. I’ve never seen it this bad. Just when I think it can’t get any worse, the violence escalates. If you walk the wrong way, they blow off your head. Gang fights are constant, sending victims by the dozens to the hospital, and we have limited staff.” He avoids my eyes. “I’m not pushing what happened to you under the rug. Please try to understand. They’d murder you. And I know you’d agree we need to protect those who saved you.”

  I nod. Of course, I’d never want anything to happen to them. Cole, Zeus, and Sutton are all I have.

  “What’s causing it? I mean, it’s always been violent and ugly, so what’s going on?”

  He puts his hands on his head and struggles for an explanation. “I shouldn’t tell you.”

  “Yeah, I figured,” I say. “I swear, I won’t say a word about it—to anyone.”

  “I know you wouldn’t—it’s not the sinners fighting each other. It’s the sinners fighting the guards. Talk of the uprising has surfaced. It’s scattered and unorganized, but it’s happening nonetheless.”

  I don’t know how to respond, so he continues in a whisper. “The commander knows something’s up, and that brings me to my next point…”

  I swing my head up to meet his eyes.

  “If there’s anything, and I mean anything, going on between the two of you, it needs to stop. I will not allow either of you to be tortured and executed over a crush and raging hormones.”

  His words hang in the air, making me uncomfortable. I want to deny my feelings outright, but I can’t, so I squeeze my lips together. The silence says it all, and he knows it.

  Just then, the door beeps and Cole struts in whistling while holding a brown paper bag. “I grabbed some bagels. Want one?” As he focuses on our faces, he raises an eyebrow. “Uh, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. Go ahead and finish. I’ll just get cleaned up.” He goes into the bathroom and shuts the door. Next thing, I hear the shower running.

  Sutton exhales in frustration. “He’s a good man and an outstanding guard, probably the best one here. But he’s got some difficult decisions ahead. So do you. But he can’t afford to have anything clouding his mind. If you risk it, you’re going to kill him.”

  “Nothing’s going on.” I swallow the dryness in my throat and clench my teeth. What am I thinking, allowing myself these feelings when they can’t go anywhere? Sutton brings me back to Earth like my father used to, and just like in the past, I weigh each of his words individually, fighting a battle between heart and mind.

  “Good. Keep it that way. I have to go now,” Sutton says, breaking into my inner monologue.

  “Thanks for everything. See you in a few days.” I speak loud so Cole hears.

  Sutton stands, wraps his coat around his shoulders, and grabs his bag as he turns to leave. His eyes lock onto mine with intensity. “Remember what I said. He’ll be forced to choose a side.”

  I nod. It requires some effort since a million thoughts run rampant through my brain.

  Suddenly, the bathroom door bangs open, and Cole stumbles out while pulling on his tall boots. He clunks to the door and puts his arm out for Sutton. “Thank you. We’re indebted to you. Forever.” Cole smiles and squeezes his arm as Sutton frowns.

  What was that? “We” are indebted? He makes it sound like we are together. That’s not good. Not good at all. Why doesn’t he just ask for Wilson to come and lop off our heads now? But we’re not together. Nothing has happened and nothing can happen. I won’t be the reason Cole gets killed.

  “Be safe,” Sutton says.

  “See ya,” I squeak out.

  He shakes Cole’s hand, eyes me with warning again, and closes the door.

  “Man, he was in and out fast,” Cole says. “I even brought him a bagel.”

  “He’s got lots of patients to tend to. You know, all the shooting victims.” I push for a response.

  He looks at me like I shouldn’t know what’s going on out there. His mouth moves like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. He slowly walks over to his safe, pulls out his pistols, and shoves them into his holsters one at a time. A knock interrupts the awkwardness.

  Cole answers, opening the door slowly to find Bruno standing outside, looking droopy from the wet weather. He lifts the hood over his head and smiles.

  “Morning, buddy.”

  “Yeah, yeah, come in,” Cole says.

  Bruno pushes past him and removes his wet poncho, placing it over a chair at the table. “What’s for breakfast? Or more importantly, how’s it taste?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t had time to eat,” Cole says. He pulls on an overcoat and double-checks the room to make sure he doesn’t forget anything. In the meantime, Bruno nods his head my direction.

  “Hey, I hope you’re ready for another titillating day standing outside my door,” I say with sarcasm.

  He smiles his big, contagious smile. “As always, I’m ready for hours of excitement.”

  Cole looks at him, at me, and then back at him. He puts his hand on Bruno’s shoulder. “I hope your day isn’t too exciting. I don’t want to have to beat your ass when I get back.” He claps his hand jovially on Bruno’s shoulder as he speaks, but I sense the threat behind it.

  “No fun, I promise. Just complete boredom.” Bruno grins and steals a glance at me.

  Cole calls Zeus and they’re out the door. He doesn’t even bother saying good-bye. A feeling of emptiness comes over me and I can’t take another day in my room, staring at the walls. I’ve got to do something purposeful.

  Before Bruno steps out into the hallway, I stop him. “Hey, I have an idea.”

  Bruno turns his head toward me,
squinting his eyes with suspicion.

  “I don’t want to cause any trouble, but I have a favor to ask.”

  “Great, this should be good. What is it?” He tilts his head, his arms folding across his massive chest. “And as long as it won’t piss off Cole.” His tone indicates I’m Cole’s property. That aggravates me, so I take a deep, cleansing breath.

  “It’s nothing like that. It’s just—I’ve been in so many bad situations. Wrong place, wrong time type things, and wondered if you’d show me the basics of self-defense. I hate not knowing how to protect myself… especially if something happens to one of you.” The words fall out, pleading and hopeful as I try to read his expression. “Leaving me helpless is cruel, don’t you think?”

  He hesitates and, noting my bruises, seems resigned to do it. “I guess you’ve got a point. All right, I’ll help you.”

  “It’s always so loud in here. No one will notice the noise… Plus, there’s no harm in teaching a weak, recovering female a few things, is there?” I do my best to look as downtrodden as possible.

  His eyes rest on the dark bruises that pattern my upper arms. The handprints are obvious from where the guard held me down—they’re taking the longest to fade. Looking at them infuriates me, but watching his expression change to one of solemn anger helps assure me he’s one of the “good” guards. He takes off his Glocks and lays them on the counter after removing the clips.

  I stand and face opposite him, hands hanging at my sides.

  He looks around again, unsure.

  “All right, I’m ready,” I say.

  So he begins. “First things first. Always be aware of your surroundings. Don’t walk anywhere alone. If you must, carry something sharp between your knuckles if you can find something. Avoid dark places—that’s a given. Use common sense and always trust your gut.” He circles around me as he speaks. “I’m guessing you’re not in the best physical condition, right?” he asks, but it’s more of a statement.

  “Most definitely not.”

  “Well, we’re going to whip you into shape. You don’t stand a chance if you can’t run or punch correctly, so let’s begin with that.”