28. Twenty Six
Twenty Six
Cecil
“So let me get this straight, you were dumb enough to offer up some girl to the Brothers, and now it’s our responsibility to fix it?” Jasper asks, shooting me a look of disdain through his glasses.
It’s been an hour of this, and I sound like a broken record pleading my case. It was my intention to ease into this. Eden’s little outburst made that difficult, and I’ve been forced to jump into the deep end without holding my breath.
Everyone has heard of Reapers, but assumed they were a myth used to scare children into compliance. When I told them what she was capable of, what I witnessed, some scoffed while others nervously touched their ears.
“If you don’t want to fight, I can’t make you. All I’m saying is, we’ve been waiting for the right moment. If we begin our training now, I think we really have a shot. She damn near deafened everyone within a split second. Imagine what she could do with some practice.”
A howl of laughter has me narrowing my eyes, and I search for the source. Jasper has a mocking smile on his face. “You really only care about yourself, don’t you? Do you have any idea how many people you’re putting at risk? And for what, a piece of ass?”
Red floods my vision, and I struggle to keep my composure.
Not everyone in the Resistance holds me in high regard. It’s split down the middle; half of them see my work at the Sanctuary as a necessary evil. The others, well, they would probably dance on my grave.
In order to win them over, I have to play nice.
“It’s for all of us. I would do anything to keep my brother safe.
” I intentionally don’t mention Eden, though deep down I know I would do as much to protect her as I would my own sibling.
(Which is a tough pill to swallow, I might add.) “But this has to end. We’re no closer than we were last year, or the year before. What’s it gonna take?”
Sylvie speaks up next, and I wish I hadn’t sat beside her. Our relationship has always been complicated. To be frank, I’m pretty sure she hates me unless I’m in her bed.
“You don’t trust us enough to be honest about your brother, so why would we trust you?
” She retorts, her face hard. It’s obvious she’s taking the omission of truth personally, but I don’t have the patience to empathize with her feelings.
Last time I tried to pacify her, I was rewarded with the outline of her hand on my face.
“Trust has nothing to do with it. I don’t tell people about Creed, period. It’s been that way since he was a kid.” I sign along with my words, ensuring everyone is included in the conversation.
Still sat at the picnic table, Creed offers support by nodding his head adamantly. At least one person’s on my side.
It’s then that Veda makes her return, choosing to stand off to the side. Her eyes are unseeing, as if she’s deep in thought. I want to know where Eden is, but now would be a bad time to ask.
There’s a lull in the argument, and I roll my neck on my shoulders. I’ve never craved a cigarette so bad in my life.
“How do you know you can control her? What if she… kills one of us?” The question comes from a shadowed corner. Barely visible is a meek teenage girl, balancing a toddler on her knees. While I understand the concern, I’m furious all the same.
My mouth snaps open to respond, but Veda beats me to it.
“She won’t,” she answers with absolution.
All heads turn in her direction, and those who have been arguing with me look less than thrilled at the ally I’ve made. Veda steps closer to the fire, the light dancing across her weathered stare. The vision of a leader, her chin is high and her back ramrod straight.
“We might not have an opportunity like this again,” she continues, catching the gaze of each individual member.
Sylvie is seething beside me, her eyebrows pulled together in frustration. I can only imagine the heated conversation that will take place in their RV later tonight. The expressions of everyone else is a mixed bag; some angry, some weary, some elated.
It’s enough for me to breathe a little easier.
“Cecil has the intel, the experience, the training. And most of all, he has a reason to end those fuckers. Isn’t this what we’ve been waiting for?”
There are hushed side conversations all around the circle, a few heads nodding along to Veda’s words. No one offers up encouraging sentiments, but no one outwardly disagrees either.
There’s no use prolonging this any further. Biting the bullet, I rise to my feet.
“I don’t want to do this alone, but I will, if that’s what it takes."
Chatter grows louder, and I watch as doubt slips from faces, determination taking its place.
“We’ll vote,” Veda calls out, silencing the crowd. “Those in favor of joining Cecil, raise your hand.”
Creed leaps from the picnic table, jutting his arm into the air. No one matches his enthusiasm, but more and more hands stretch toward the night sky. Veda scans the crowd, too, mouthing the numbers as she counts.
My aortas might implode. This has the potential to change everything—for the better, or worse.
Veda’s lips twitch with the hint of a smile.
“21-19. We fight,” she announces. There are outbursts of anger, but I can’t find it in myself to care.
Her eyes meet mine. “Looks like fate was on your side.”
It’s nearly midnight when I make my way to collect Eden.
I spoke to Veda and the other “leader”, Garreth, about the plan moving forward. The three of us decided that combat training should begin sooner rather than later. Being familiar with a gun isn’t going to cut it, especially with how significantly the Brothers outnumber us.
To my surprise, Sylvie stayed at my hip, though she didn’t offer much help. All of her opinions came in the form of scoffs or sighs.
Now, she follows me to the RV, looping her arm through mine.
“You could stay the night, you know,” she suggests. Halting in my tracks, I spin to face her. I know exactly what she’s getting at, and I’m more than a little irritated.
“After the shit you pulled back there? Not likely,” I scoff. Pulling my arm from hers, I continue my way to the door. She races to get ahead, stepping into my path. Digging my thumb and forefinger into the sides of my nose, I let out a groan.
“Do you even care if you die?” Sylvie shouts.
Shushing her, I place a finger over my lips. “Jesus Christ, what are you getting on about?”
Her black hair shines in the moonlight, reflecting a silver glow. It reminds me of Eden’s eyes.
I quickly avert my thoughts.
“Every decision you make, it’s like you’re taunting death. Working for the Divine, working for us, planning a battle…” Her eyes narrow with accusation. “And that girl. What were you thinking?”
It’s almost flattering that she’s worried about my life. Unfortunately, her shitty attitude ruins the sentiment.
“I was thinking that our sole purpose for being here, doing this, is to save those who can’t save themselves,” I snap, stepping closer until I’m peering down my nose at her. Never one to cower, she raises her chin.
“Is she really worth it?” A hint of insecurity infiltrates her words. I deflate.
“I’m tired, Sylvie, okay? We can talk about this when I come back.”
“And when will that be?”
“Soon,” I mutter, looking back towards the truck where Creed rests with his head pressed to the window. “There’s much to do.”
Appeased for now, her expression becomes calm, light. She’s gorgeous this way, but I see it less and less these days. It’s always anger, or disappointment, or loathing.
Things between us have always been a means to an end.
Neither of us care for a relationship considering all the other shit there is to deal with, and I wouldn't call what I feel for her love. I respect her, and I care about her. But love… I’m not sure I’m capable of such a thing.
She knows that, too, as we’ve discussed it countless times.
She was always quick to agree, stating that I’m too cold to be her type.
It never offended me, because it’s the truth.
That being said, it’s clear that she holds me to expectations I’ve never agreed to.
“Fine, but if you disappear for two weeks again, I’ll send out a search party just so I can castrate you.” She flashes her perfectly aligned teeth, and for a brief moment, I think about an imperfect smile. A crooked tooth.
She raises to her tiptoes, pressing a quick kiss to my mouth, and it takes everything in me not to recoil.
When we step into the RV, Eden is curled up on the couch. Fast asleep, her hands are tucked under her cheek, lips parted. It’s the first time in days that I’ve seen her look at peace.
“Eden,” I whisper, dropping to my haunches beside her. I brush a lock of hair from her forehead, rousing her as gently as I can. Eden only hums in response, stubborn even when unconscious.
I wouldn’t be surprised if my hair is smoking with the way Sylvie burns holes into the back of my head. I weigh my options, rubbing the back of my neck. If I’m too attentive to Eden, Sylvie will go out of her way to make me regret it. But Eden hasn’t been sleeping lately, and the truck isn’t far…
Fuck it.
As carefully as I can, I scoop Eden into my arms and stand. Her brows draw together for only a moment, but then she relaxes and rests her cheek against my shoulder. Even in sleep, her arms find their way around my neck. It’s so natural, like we’ve done this dozens of times.
Sylvie snorts, and the last I hear from her is the slam of a door.
Veda is approaching the RV when we step out, and she regards me with an indiscernible look.
“What?” I bite, the word coming out more defensive than I intended.
Veda’s eyes crinkle in the corners, and she waves a hand dismissively. “Nothing at all. You’ll get home safely, won’t you?”
She pats my shoulder as she walks past me, and I huff. Her behavior is a little too shifty for my liking, and I wish she would come out with whatever is on her mind.
Getting Eden into the cab of the truck is maybe the most difficult part of the whole evening.
Every time I try to hoist her up into the seat, she tightens her grip around my neck and moans her disapproval.
What’d Veda do, give her a tranquilizer?
Creed’s cheek is smashed to the passenger window, drool collecting in the corner of his mouth. AKA- utterly useless.
Nearing my wits end, I try one more time to untangle her limbs from around me.
A hushed voice brushes across the nape of my neck, and I rear my head back in shock.
Eyes still closed, Eden murmured a plea.
The rhythmic rise and fall of her chest tells me she’s still sleeping.
My insides turn to mush, and I let out a huff.
Even in slumber, she is agonizingly endearing.
I relent—because of course I do—and finagle myself into the seat without releasing her. Her legs are scrunched up against Creeds’, her body across my lap. Turning the wheel is a hassle, but the drive home is fortunately a straight shot.
Over the hour-long journey, she gradually slips down until her head and shoulders rest in my lap. My right palm sits on her ribs, and I swipe my thumb back and forth absentmindedly. The day has been mentally draining, and I can’t wait to slip into bed.
When I wake, it will be the beginning of the end.
The uncertainty of what and who will end keeps me up until dawn.