Chapter 2 #3
Tristian always brought his unit members in himself, reassuring them that I was the best. Caring for them, checking in on them.
On me. They all looked at him with that same reverence.
They raved about him in my care like he was one of those lost gods.
How lucky they all felt to be in his unit.
How just and considerate he was as a commander.
How he refused to ever leave anyone above.
They bombarded me with stories of his risking himself for them.
How he was always honest. He was a good person, Tristian.
I knew that before they sang his praises, but still, hearing them… Maybe it made me work harder.
I found a purpose in the work, enjoying the aspects of healing them, observing the love they had for one another.
Their faith in their mission, their unit, and themselves.
They had found something that resembled happiness—an ease among them.
Until six months ago, when a woman in his unit named Lily fell ill.
She had gone above sick, and by the time her partner, Ingrid, rushed her to me, no medicine I stole helped.
She continued to worsen. Then she told me about her life, her secrets, her wants, and I knew.
It was her time, even though the rest of them seemed determined to deny it.
I didn’t blame them. No one wanted to accept the end. The dying always did before their loved ones. I had been there once with my own sister, denying the inevitable, the obvious.
I took Lily to the Hospital Ward, even as Ingrid begged me not to.
I took death’s seat, skipping my day off.
I had gently stood when death finally came.
Delivering the news had broken everything.
Ingrid’s screaming face twisted with rage and pain.
Levi and Tristian held her back from attacking me.
The other unit members gathered around, most sobbing by the time I left.
I had severed their happiness and fractured whatever thing I had built with Tristian’s unit. I had failed.
The memories crushed any hope for sleep. Quietly, I slipped on my boots and set off in search of a distraction. I left the masses that were tossing and turning in their cots for the night, some making noises I didn’t want to examine too closely.
The tunnels were quiet as I ventured away from Expansion to the main entrance of the Force Sector.
“Sasha,” greeted a man heading out for the witching hour patrol, a golden cross on his chest.
“Patrick,” I returned as I passed him. Patrick McMurphy was a member of Tristian’s unit. A year ago, I had put Patrick’s shoulder back in the socket. Even with the stolen muscle relaxers I had given him, Tristian and Patrick’s partner were forced to hold him down.
I wound through the Force tunnels until I came to a hall lined with doors. I stared down to where Tristian’s unit lived. The thing I had broken between us when Lily died pulsed in my chest. I turned away. The closet—the deal—was done. I knocked on the door of my current distraction.
Jaxon opened the door, smirked, and pulled me in. I had met Jaxon in the tunnels as I wandered aimlessly, unable to rest in the crowded living quarters until the habitants were all mostly asleep.
Jaxon and I hadn’t wasted time with pleasantries.
He was cocky and annoyingly good-looking.
He had short black hair, a damning smirk, and a swaggering demeanor that worked for me.
It was always the same clashing of teeth and limbs.
A frantic coupling that sprinted to the finish line.
Jaxon’s complete uninterest in anything besides my body kept me coming back.
If he knew what people called me throughout Haven, he didn’t mention it.
He had no desire to get to know me, which happened to be my favorite thing about him.
Thirty minutes later, I shimmied back into my pants, tightening the belt.
“You want these?” Jaxon asked, grabbing my knife and pistol from the small table. He held them out apathetically as he lay naked on his bed. His bunkmates had all disappeared when I arrived.
“Yeah, thanks.” I returned the knife to my waistband.
Jaxon watched me. “It’s been five moons, Sasha. You still need weapons when you come here?”
I couldn’t believe it had been five moons; somehow, I had lost track of time. The idea of one-night stands had lost its appeal, so here I was.
“I like being prepared,” I stated, donning my sweater.
“Do you even know how to use them?” Jaxon taunted, his brow raised.
“Pointy end goes in first, right?” I shot back sarcastically.
“Something like that,” he said lazily, stretching his muscular body. I watched him momentarily before putting my damp hair into a low bun. Jaxon tracked my lingering gaze. “Same time tomorrow?”
“Sure,” I said, slipping on my boots. I walked out without a backward glance. Jaxon didn’t stop me.
The tunnels were silent. I turned the other way and allowed my feet to follow their favorite path in the dark.
I didn’t know how long I walked. Only when the silence felt impenetrable did my feet lead me back to Expansion. I was greeted by a medley of deep breathing, light snores, and the rustling of sheets.
I fell into my bunk, sleep finally claiming me.