Chapter 19 Emery
EMERY
A soft breeze slips in through the cracked windows and stirs around the medical, minty smell in the recovery room. Cameron’s pale blond hair shifts over his forehead, but his eyes remain closed, breath steady with faraway dreams.
I rest my chin on my palm, elbow pressed against the bed for support as I lean closer to observe him.
The last three days have been nothing short of one mental breakdown after the other.
Ranging from wanting to kill him myself, to shaking him awake and kissing the forlorn smile that he’s given me for the past few weeks.
Can we become ourselves again? It doesn’t feel like it. I take a deep breath as I draw circles languidly on his arm.
Turmoil has been my long-seated friend through this. I can’t seem to untangle the mess of memories in my head. I can no longer tell if anything he’s ever said to me before was true or not. Why did he push me away like I was nothing? Why did I let myself trust him?
My heart seems to be the only thing that remains unwavering, holding out for some reasonable answer so I can go back to being a bright-eyed, foolish soldier. But I’m not sure I’ll ever see that version of myself again. She was unmarred by love. She was too content for her own good.
I trace Cameron’s jawline and sharp cheekbones with my gaze, torturing myself by watching the lovely soldier sleep.
His beauty is unparalleled, tormented even in his dreams. I’m not sure I’ll ever fully realize why I’m drawn to such self-destructive things such as him.
I yearn to bask in his heavy stare, even with the knowledge that he tried to kill me.
A long-winded breath escapes my parted lips as I climb onto the bed beside him. My body is small next to his chest. His torso alone is big enough for me to curl up on. I rest my head on his chest and breathe in his crisp birch scent.
“How is it that I had forgotten you of all people? Cameron…” I say his name somberly, the taste of it is bittersweet and leaves sadness on my tongue.
I clear my throat and pull out his silly little poetry book that he carries everywhere with him, opening it to the most worn and well-read page, and reading him the passages he must know like the back of his hand.
I tell myself it’s to comfort him, but selfishly, I know I’m doing it to comfort me.
“He’s awake.”
My feet halt mid-step at the sound of Reed’s voice as it comes through the wireless earbud.
I was walking along the skyline roof toward the railing where I often sit.
Over the past few days, sitting up here is the only place I seem to be able to find peace.
The city lights flicker in the distance and the steady flow of cars on the roadways from this high up sound like the river.
The world seems lonely out here at one of our foreign outposts.
Light pollution from the city dabbles out and turns into pitch-black before reaching us.
It leaves me wondering where the stars begin and where they end.
Though, I don’t think anything can compare to the stars I saw while I was in the Under Trials with Cameron.
Maybe it was the companionship that I loved most. The friends and sense of belonging that I found.
I dismiss Reed’s message and take out my earbud, letting it fall to the rooftop. My legs guide me to my usual spot and I sit at the ledge of the building, arms hanging limply from my elbows on the railing and letting my legs dangle in the cold breeze.
We’re somewhere in Northern Germany. My father never tells me exactly where we are when we go on missions. “The less people that know, the better,” he always said, and this hideout is no different.
The executioner is always in the dark. Keeping my source of information low is likely a control tactic or if I’m taken hostage.
It never bothered me much before, but it does now.
Especially since my father has upped the security on me while I’m not working.
I exhale and glance down at a guard in the courtyard who watches me idly while he’s chatting with another passing henchman.
After a long flight from the Great Basin, the cold makes my joints stiff. I take a deep breath and watch numbly as the mist rolls from my lips. The brisk bite in the air feels the same as the Alaskan breeze, chilling me to the bone.
I take out my pill bottle and roll it in my hand, listening to capsules rattle.
It’s still half-full and Reed is having his team work on replicating more.
I was hesitant on sharing the doses and times with him because he seemed overly eager to hear everything about the medication, but Cameron needed his doses even while asleep so he wouldn’t relapse.
Cameron. I think of his lingering stares and the touch of his fingers brushing through my hair so delicately while lying so sweetly to me.
Claiming that he’s never braided my hair before.
I scoff. Who would’ve guessed someone as dangerous as Mori could have it in him to braid so gently?
My heart softens at the precious memory.
Then I recall his cruel and distant behavior. I groan, setting my head on my arms.
I’m not ready to see him.
What would I even say? Should I tell him that I remember everything we’ve been through or go on as the girl who forgot him? It certainly seems like that’s what he prefers based on how he’s been treating me.
My chest curls with the winter chill. How am I supposed to feel after hearing the pain and fear in my own voice, begging for him not to kill me? To wake up.
And now he’s awake.
He’s awake, and I’m stuck in this nightmare still half asleep, and yet I’m already being pressured back into “taking care” of the job list Greg Mavestelli has curated.
It’s a list of names pinned to a board downstairs in my room.
It’s the temporary resting space that my dad has me staying in while I’m working in this location.
I have many rooms across the world. Many abandoned places with beds I’ve slept in maybe once.
All I want to do is wake up from this reality I’m trapped in. Is it too far out of my reach to dream of a life outside this one?
My weary eyes shift to the city beyond, the cars gliding through the night. Everyone is moving on without me in it.
Without Cameron.
We’re like ghosts already, or maybe we always were. I haven’t quite decided yet. Does everyone back at the base think we’re dead? My hand instinctively reaches up and brushes the back of my neck where the tracker was removed. I hope everyone got back okay.
After half an hour the metal roof door screeches open.
I don’t bother turning around to see who it is.
Reed discovered that this is where I’ve been escaping to the first day we arrived.
I hate how perceptive he is, but at least he seems to care about my well-being, unlike my father.
Although, I’m certain his care only extends to my usefulness to him.
Reed has always been kind to me, but he’s different.
I’m not sure he understands what it is to actually cherish anything.
My cheeks are cold against the sleeve of my black puffer jacket, but I don’t mind. At least being frozen is the closest thing to pain I can feel.
Footsteps approach slowly and then stop altogether as a light dusting of snow starts to drift down from the sky.
I wait for Reed to scold me and order me back indoors, but he stays quiet. A few more seconds pass before he moves to my left and sits beside me. He’s only a foot away, and all I can see from the corner of my eye are his gloved hands, hanging idly from the railing.
We sit in the silence and watch as the snow falls upon the city below. I’m about to ask him how Cameron is just as I catch the birchwood scent I know so keenly.
My back muscles stiffen before he speaks.
“I’m… I’m so sorry, Em.”
Cameron’s voice sends a chill down my spine, and I instinctively flinch. Run, a small voice inside me screams. I don’t think I could make my muscles work right now even if I tried.
Slowly, I lift my head and gaze up at him. A warm orange light from the lampposts lining the property illuminate his figure, making his pale blond hair look like licks of fire. His soft green eyes are averted and filled with suffering.
He looks like he’s barely awake, skin so pale it makes the cold blush from the wind bright red across his cheeks and the scar on his eye darker. It only makes him more lovely. I can’t pull my eyes away from him.
I forgot he said anything. I’m so shocked that he’s actually here right now that my mind is void of thought.
His hands are clasped together on his lap, tethered together with handcuffs.
I’m surprised that Reed even allowed him up here.
I glance over my shoulder and see Reed with an MK-17 at his side as he smokes a cigarette.
His eyes flash to mine only for a moment before he looks back out over the winter terrain.
He only does things if it serves him. Is he studying our interaction?
Why let Cameron out here to chat, though? I huff and bring my attention back forward, almost immediately sensing Reed’s eyes on my back.
He did this in boarding school, too, watching others show affection was his biggest curiosity. He analyzed them the most, to learn, I think, which is a bit chilling.
Cameron works his jaw, struggling to find words, much like I am, it seems. I’m trying to decide which version of me I should present to him.
“I know you saw the footage of what I did. I’ve watched it a thousand times over and it’s eaten me up inside each time. I’m—” His voice trembles and he swallows.
Emotions bubble up inside me, twisting my heart and ultimately only anger slips out. No matter how sad I am, or how much I miss him, I’m so fucking mad that he pushed me away like this.
“You’re not sorry, Cameron.” He physically jolts at the sound of his name and finally looks at me.
Misery in a man’s eyes is truly a thing to behold.
“I begged you. I cried and screamed your name, but still…you got rid of me the only way you knew how. Then you lied to me and pretended like you didn’t know me.
Like I was nothing to you.” I shake my head with heartache spilling on my sleeve.
His expression breaks and he bites down on his lower lip as tears prickle his eyes.
“I know,” he chokes out in a mere whisper. “You should hate me.”
It’s not fair, I argue in my mind. He wasn’t in control. “My mind is a fucking mess right now.” I clench my hands. “All I ever asked of you was for the truth.”
His eyes are that of a hollow man who has nothing left. He nods once and gives me an anguished grin. “I know.”
He’s still choosing to be closed off? Anger builds up deep inside my chest. I slip out from the railing and stand, turning to leave.
“Fuck, Em, I am sorry…more than I could ever tell you. I just—” He threads his fingers through his hair like he’s desperate. “How much do you remember?” Cameron’s voice has hardened back up and I’m glad for it.
It’s easier this way. It always has been.
My hands clench at my sides. “I remember everything, Cam.” My words feel lost in the snow as it flutters to the ground between us. I spare one look over my shoulder to see his expression and it’s more torturous than I could’ve imagined. He looks completely struck down by my admittance.
Now he knows how it feels. I force my head forward. If I don’t leave now, I’ll only want to comfort him, and that’s not fucking happening.
I pass Reed without looking at him. I’m so fucking pissed off that he let Cameron come up here in the first place. Reed reaches back and grabs my wrist. We stand facing opposite directions.
“Let go,” I say sternly.
He ignores me. “You okay?”
I turn and meet his gaze. “Don’t act like it matters to you.” I tear my arm from his grip and continue down the stairs.
Later in the evening after dinner, I return to my room and stare at the list of names my father left behind. I’ll be crossing some of them off this week. It almost feels like I never left.
Greg hasn’t said two words to me since our initial reunion, proving that he never actually wanted to get me back because he cared about me.
He only wanted his highly trained asset returned to him.
Mother wasn’t waiting for me like he said she was.
She hasn’t even called to speak with me.
Not that I expected her to. I knew he was probably lying to me about it, but I still held out a sliver of hope.
I’ve only known two lives: that of the Mavestelli Family and that of the Dark Forces. Both are wretched.
The devil you know is better than the one you don’t… That’s the saying, right?
I think of Cameron’s shattered gaze and set my arm over my forehead. It’s only been a few hours and I’m already feeling bad about what I said and want to mend things with him.
Time to dissociate. I purse my lips as I pick up a book from my nightstand and curl up on the bed. I crack it open and find the place I left off. It’s the only way I know how to flee my shitty reality before going to bed.
The better part of an hour passes before I hear metal rattling from the room down the hall. I place the bookmark back between the pages and sit up to listen. My hair is loose, allowing strands to slip over my shoulder and chest as I lean forward to hear better.
The sound comes again, this time louder.
A sense of unease eats away at the back of my mind until I can’t ignore it any longer. I set the book down and walk to the door, cracking it open to peek out into the hallway.
It’s empty. I wait for a few moments before shaking my head and turning the knob so the door doesn’t make a loud clicking when I close it.
This building is old. It must’ve been the pipes creaking.