Chapter 12
“Morning.”
I turned from the noise, my entire body balking at the movement. My face throbbed from catching the fall from Murray. The rest of me hurt from Levi’s relentless crusade. Something else ached as moments from last night pelted me. I ignored the pain in my chest.
“You were groaning in your sleep.”
I cracked my eyes open to find Rumi braiding her hair on her bed, already fully clothed. Isla’s and Ingrid’s beds sat empty.
“What time do you wake up?” I grumbled, turning again in an attempt to find a comfortable position for my demolished body.
“Recently, second or third bell. Early enough to shower in the Gym. It has warmer water.”
My shoulder screamed at me as I tossed to my left. Admitting defeat, I sat up, my core filing its own complaints. “Do you ever sleep? You weren’t here last night.”
Rumi stilled, her braid half done. “Sometimes. It was crowded here last night, and everyone was drunk. I left. I usually have the witching hour shift.” Her observant gaze landed on Ingrid’s empty bed. “I like to be up at night.”
“Why is Ingrid on the shift and not you?” I asked, attempting to rub my shoulder. It only served to make it ache worse.
“Because she can’t move on from Lily’s death and she takes it out on everyone. You see fewer people on the witching hour shift. Tristian did it as a kindness.”
“Where is everyone?” I asked, unable to discuss Tristian. I stood in just my uniform shirt, underwear, and socks.
“Levi hasn’t returned from last night. Tristian and Damien are asleep on the couch, probably both hungover. Ingrid went to the Kitchens.”
“And Patrick and Isla?” I asked, the culprits of the sounds last night.
Rumi stared at me in a way that made seconds feel like hours. “Isla is in the shower.”
Unspoken words shone there. They didn’t discuss the two unit members’ late-night activities. There was a warning there too—a fierce, protective one, that I would keep my mouth shut about her partner or else.
“Got it,” I said.
“Formation is at the fifth bell,” Rumi told me, standing.
“No day off again?” I asked, genuinely curious. Murray’s attack and their swift action plan to keep me in the Force had overshadowed my intrigue.
“We only get one every two weeks during lockdowns. If we’re lucky. It’s predicated on civil unrest. In the Force, nothing is ever certain. You always have to be ready.” Without a goodbye, she left me alone.
I thought of Levi’s words last night. Just because someone’s demons look different from yours, or they’ve found a way to hide them better, doesn’t mean they don’t have them. What demons did Rumi hide? Why couldn’t she sleep at night? And how did she get hers to be so quiet?
I stretched my neck side to side but quickly stopped. Fuck, everything hurt. I scrunched my nose at my own smell. I hadn’t showered after the evening torture. Instead, I had run away. Tristian’s parting words were heavy on my chest.
I would have to see him today, tomorrow, the next day. I couldn’t run from him anymore. I dragged my hands down my face.
“Morning,” Isla greeted as she entered in just her towel, red hair wet, the scar on her brow visible. Her normal smile and sunshiny demeanor were absent. Was she upset about her actions last night? Embarrassed? I didn’t know, but I knew that look—a twin to the feeling that twisted my heart.
“Morning.” I grabbed my uniform pants and clean undergarments, ready to shower and give her space. The door to our living quarters opened into the room beyond.
“Coffee.” Levi’s muffled voice was louder than necessary.
“Keep it the fuck down,” Damien grumbled.
Maybe it was how bad my body ached. Or maybe it was something Levi had said last night.
I wanted the coffee. Coffee, then shower.
I glanced down at my bare legs. Was it appropriate to go out like this?
My eyes slid over to Isla as she dropped her towel, fishing out clothing.
They had all stripped down in front of one another last night.
I was overthinking this. I shook out my auburn hair and strode out in my shirt and underwear.
Levi sat in the chair, fully dressed, sipping his coffee. “Morning.”
I grunted at him, beelining for coffee. I went to grab one but felt his penetrating stare. I glanced up to find him watching me intently. “How was your night?” I asked.
“Eventful. Your left cheek is bruised as shit,” Levi said.
I wasn’t shocked by that. It ached like hell.
I thought back to the last time Levi had offered me a coffee. I had been right to wonder if it was a challenge, like he had been testing whether I would torch the olive branch. I had. Instead of trying to build trust, I had created more walls.
I glanced down at the liquid. Black, like my father had preferred. That stirred something buried in my chest, adding to the storm there. Levi lifted a brow, challenging me like he had yesterday. He said nothing as he waited.
I took a sip, welcoming the bitterness. It was slightly different from what I remembered, but it was coffee. Or something like it.
Levi lifted his cup, saluting me. “Partner.” I rolled my eyes at him over the rim, and he smirked. “You gonna sit?”
There wasn’t room. Tristian stirred under the blanket, his tattoo-kissed chest and arms exposed.
His massive form stretched the entirety of the couch, feet dangling off the edge.
Unbound brown curls obscured his face. I didn’t trust myself to sit anywhere near him, especially after how his hands had felt against my skin.
At how much I wanted his touch, everywhere, again.
I glanced at Damien, who lay on his stomach on the other couch, his ass completely on display.
“There isn’t much room,” I said.
“I’ll move,” Tristian said, pushing himself up.
The vestige of sleep laced his voice. The blanket caught around one leg as he shifted toward the far end of the sofa, flexing his back and shoulders.
He glanced at Levi. “You stayed out last night.” Tristian grabbed a coffee, his muscles rippling as he stretched out. He hadn’t looked at me.
“It was a bit crowded here,” Levi said.
“Where’d you go?” Tristian asked, taking a sip. The sound that left his mouth as he relished his coffee skittered up my spine before suffusing every inch of my skin with heat. “Thank you.”
Levi faked a cough that I knew was a laugh. “No problem. I found a place in Unit Three’s barracks.”
“Unit Three again? How was that?” Tristian asked, taking another sip. He still hadn’t looked my way. Was he avoiding me?
“Rather enjoyable,” Levi said into his cup, a crooked smile playing at his full lips.
Tristian ran a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. I imagined running my fingers through it as well.
“You going to take a seat, partner?” Levi asked, his blue eyes dancing.
I plopped down, crossing my bare legs. Whether I was looking for friction to quench the desire that washed over me or some long-forgotten play at modesty, I didn’t know. Would Tristian bring up last night?
“How’d partner bonding—” Tristian stopped abruptly. I turned to find him staring at the left side of my face. “Is that from Murray?”
I winced, my left cheekbone and jaw sore to the touch. “Yeah, my face caught the fall. I was reaching for my pistol.”
Damien moaned from the sofa. “Ssstop talking. My head.”
I swore Tristian’s cup shook just slightly as his jaw flexed. He took a deep breath, his dark gaze glued to my cheek.
“Morning, Buddy,” Levi greeted. “How was your night?”
“Shit, Hayes won,” Damien grumbled, his face still glued to the sofa. “You had to drink every time you hit.”
Levi chuckled and Tristian finally tore his eyes from my face.
“How many times did you hit?” Levi probed.
“Too fucking many. That coffee?” Damien squinted at the cups like the action took immense effort.
“Yeah.”
“I love you; I mean it this time. Stupid lumpy couch.” Damien punched the cushion. He sat up, his dark curls sticking up at odd angles, the fabric of the sofa imprinted on his right cheek, mixed with drool. He was completely, unabashedly naked.
Levi chucked an article of clothing his way. Damien wadded it up and covered his essential parts. He didn’t bother with a response or a thanks. Snatching the coffee cup, he brought it to his lips and chugged.
“Fuuuuuckk,” Damien uttered, dragging out the word, his eyes still closed. “Tell me we don’t have the obstacle course. I’ll puke if we do.”
Tristian gazed into his cup. “We do.”
“Damn it,” Damien said, grabbing a second coffee.
“That’s not for you,” Levi said. I glanced over to find Tristian staring at my cheek once more, something like guilt there.
“Rumi won’t drink it.”
“It’s rude not to offer.”
“Has she ever taken a coffee? You always drink hers.”
“After she says no.”
“You just like watching people suffer.”
“Maybe.”
My leg bounced, a part of me wanting to tell Tristian something to assuage his remorse. I opened my mouth when a humming Patrick made his way into the room, heading toward the shower.
“Good morning,” he called over to us, a rare smile there. “That coffee?” His hair was mussed, as if hands had run through the sandy blond locks countless times.
“Yup,” Levi answered. Damien was quiet for once.
“Cheers.” Patrick bent over the sofa, reaching between Tristian and me to grab one, cross necklace dangling. He turned toward the shower, humming once more. When the bathroom door shut, his humming turned into singing.
“Someone’s in a good mood,” I muttered.
The three of them exchanged a look before taking a sip. Levi didn’t stop Damien from downing the second coffee.
Isla strode through the room a moment later.
She didn’t look our way as she left, the door to our quarters slamming shut.
My brows pulled in. Damien grabbed another coffee, replacing the empty cup in Levi’s hand, who took it without a word, staring at the shut door.
Nothing was said about the sunshine Patrick seemed to have stolen.
Damien propped his ankle on his knee as he leaned back with a groan. His loincloth-like covering pulled to the side, dangerously close to exposing all of him. “Like the outfit, Cadell,” Damien smirked, winking at me as he gazed at my bare legs.
“I can’t say the same,” I fired back.
Damien tilted his head, smiling openly at me. “Your face looks like shit. Let’s add Murray to the kill list.”
“It’s already too long, but we can make an exception,” Tristian said quietly. I couldn’t tell if they were joking.
“I could think of another one to add,” Levi muttered, still staring at the door. My brow furrowed. It sounded like he was talking about Patrick.
“We protect our own,” Damien stated.
“Speaking of which, unit meeting in the Exploratory Room tonight after dinner,” Tristian told us. “I’ll see you at the Gym.” He stood and left the room.
“Guess you really are one of us, Sasha,” Damien said, leaning back into the sofa as he sighed heavily. There was no humor in his eyes or voice. “Welcome to the end of the world.”
After an uneventful day of training and eating dinner together, I sat with the rest of Unit Seven in the Exploratory Room around a large oval table.
I stared in shock at the three-dimensional hologram hovering at the center of the table, depicting the world above, a world I had forgotten existed.
Glowing dots moved around the map. The ones closest to the entrance of Haven were white.
The ones farthest away were a dark blue.
On the wall hung a screen with a live feed of some kind, numbers flashing and changing.
The whiteboard next to it was filled with tight block writing.
Ingrid dipped something into her coffee as Isla and Damien sat close together whispering to each other.
Patrick ran his gold cross along his chain as he read the boards.
Rumi gripped the table tightly, her eyes glued to the very edge of the map where seven lone blue dots lingered.
Levi handed me a coffee as he took the seat next to me.
“Welcome to the Exploratory Room, Cadell,” Tristian said. “Unit Twelve is restocking Outpost One and will head to Two in the morning. Condition reports remain clear. Radiation is stable. Unit Five is at Outpost Three.”
“What, how?” Damien asked.
“Kaleo left in the middle of the night. Rumi confirmed on the log. They didn’t stop at One. Pushed to Two and arrived at Three about an hour ago.” Tristian gestured to the dark blue dots on the edge of the map Rumi had been staring at.
“He walked them through the night?” Patrick asked incredulously.
“Yes. We should pass them in the field,” Tristian informed the group. There was a heaviness in the air. Even Damien was solemn.
“I have never asked anyone to follow me or go above blindly,” Tristian continued, looking toward the numbers on the live feed.
I followed his gaze; the numbers were counting down, each ticking number a stone in the pit of my stomach.
The unit seemed to be holding their breath. I was missing something.
“What is it?” I whispered.
Tristian met my gaze, his expression grim. “Haven is almost out of time.”
“What do you mean ‘out of time’?” I asked. The others remained unfazed.
Tristian took a deep breath before dismantling everything I had come to know. “If we cannot complete this mission, everyone in Haven will eventually die.”