Chapter 10 #2
He steps aside to speak with Raiden, so I busy myself with putting away the items that require refrigeration.
Every so often, I steal a peek at the two of them, their heads bent low as they speak quietly.
They’re polar opposites when it comes to looks.
Raiden’s skin is beautifully bronzed, with nearly black hair that’s shorn close to his head.
Colsen is sandy blond, his hair a shaggy mess with a slightly overgrown beard, and the apples of his cheeks are tinged pink from being out in the sun.
Raiden is dressed smartly, while Col is sporting a faded pair of jeans and a paint-speckled T-shirt.
They’re both conventionally attractive, and I’d wager Briggs is as well.
However, self-care isn’t something he seems overly concerned with at the moment, so it’s hard to say for certain.
His cocksure attitude definitely leaves a lot to be desired.
Colsen waves goodbye, leaving Raiden to explain the Briggs situation.
I’m shocked to hear they collectively agreed to keep me in the dark about his existence, but I mostly find their protectiveness endearing.
I’ve encountered far worse than any threat Briggs could ever pose, so while it’s sweet they want to protect me, it’s completely unnecessary.
I contemplate bringing up the apartment, curious to know where he’s staying in the meantime and worried my being here is inconveniencing him more than he’d ever admit to.
Before I can think of a polite way to raise my concerns, Raiden excuses himself to retrieve something from his truck.
He’s back a moment later, beaming as he places a medium-sized storage bin on the kitchen counter.
“It isn’t much, but I brought you some items you might need. Clothes and toiletries…those sorts of things.”
Reluctantly, I pull the top back and glance inside, shocked to find it’s filled to the brim. Confused, I look to Raiden and ask, “Where did this come from?”
“Donations from the locals,” he explains.
“Currently, the other victims that were rescued are being housed at the old high school. Volunteers came out in droves last night, and once everything was sorted, I had someone put together a package for you. She looked to be your size, but if there’s anything missing, let me know.
” It’s an unpleasant feeling to be on the receiving end of others’ charity.
Unfortunately, I’m in no position to turn away their assistance, but I vow to pay it forward as soon as I’m able to.
“Is everyone okay?” I ask warily, shifting the conversation to a less intrusive topic, though it’s no less uncomfortable. I think it’ll irreparably break something inside of me if someone lost their life before we could get everyone out.
“As far as I know. I believe two teenagers were admitted with more extensive injuries, but the rest were released throughout the night,” Raiden explains.
Based on his description, I’m certain he’s referring to Marshall and Catalina.
I mourn their lives, because it doesn’t matter that we’re free of Veritas and their savagery, not when the marks they left are as permanent as the scars those two will forever be left with.
They have far more to heal from than your run-of-the-mill brainwashing, but I’d be a doe-eyed twit if I thought any of us were walking away unscathed.
Regardless of how deep their cuts run, I’ll wear whatever mask I need to, become the epitome of indifference, before I ever give them the satisfaction of seeing the visible ramifications of their brutality.
“I’m not sure if you even want to know this, but Kennedy Stillwater has yet to be found.
Apparently, Tobias is stating that he succumbed to his illness more than a week ago.
We still have people combing the property for any unmarked graves, but I’ll let you know how their search pans out,” Raiden reveals, looking frustrated that everything isn’t being wrapped up in a neat little bow as we’d hoped.
“Well, that’s unfortunate,” I gripe. I’m sure they’ll find my parents among the bodies they unearth, but I feel nothing at the thought of them being confirmed dead. I accepted that was their fate long ago, when they completely disappeared after handing me over to Veritas.
“I can’t stay, but they need you at the precinct to give your statement tomorrow morning.
” Raiden’s voice disrupts my wayward thoughts, and I focus on the unwanted news he’s just delivered.
I should’ve known they’d bring me in as soon as possible, but I was naively hoping for a few days to acclimate before the inquisition began. “I’ll pick you up at nine?”
“Sure,” I nod in answer, my agreement nothing more than a formality, because we both know I don’t have the luxury of declining.
After Raiden leaves, I take my box of belongings to the bedroom and sort through the contents.
There are enough staples to form a few outfits, and thankfully, a new pack of underwear.
I don’t see a bra, but I wouldn’t expect to, seeing as the sizing is so specific.
My chest is on the smaller side, so it won’t be an issue to go without.
If need be, I’ll wear the one I have. It’s ancient, but the community closet that Veritas pulled from wasn’t stocked very often.
Once I’ve put the clothes away, I move to the bathroom.
I place the bottles of shampoo and conditioner in the shower’s inlay, then add the razor and shaving cream to the outer edge.
Next, I break open the package encasing a toothbrush, immediately putting it to use.
Baring my teeth at the mirror, I run my tongue across the slightly crooked one in the front.
I used to love that imperfection, but Tobias’ cruelty and ever-present need to pick apart my faults have diminished my self-esteem.
Distractedly, I grab the last two items, my movements slowing the second I set my eyes on what I’m holding.
A box of tampons and a ziplock bag of sanitary pads.
I wasn’t allowed to use the former. Tobias, like many of the Elders, refused to let anything inside of me except for him.
I may be curious, but I have no use for them now.
As much as I’d love to believe the spotting I’ve experienced over the past six months is nothing more than a light cycle, a blood test and ultrasound proved otherwise.
A tear slips down my cheek. Followed by another.
And another. I’m fairly confident that this is what defeat feels like.
Tossing the items in the box, I shove it inside the linen closet, refusing to acknowledge my rapidly growing problem.
I’m not mentally well enough to process what this means for me, and until I’ve reached that point, I’m content to live in denial.