10. Day 30 - Theo
Day 30 - Theo
“Y ou see this set-up?” Max gestures to the four new chairs. “I think they like us. One for each of us and everything.”
Glancing around, I press my lips together before responding. “Better than the floor, I guess.”
He stretches, a grimace pulling at his lips. He looks rumpled from a night spent on the concrete, his sleeping bag folded up at his feet. “True.”
Jake sighs from between us. “I fucking hate this.”
We both turn to look. Center staff move slowly into Kenny’s room, spreading out around her. The outfits they wear look more like hazard suits, and Max’s quiet snort tells me he’s thinking the same thing. But we all fall silent, leaning forward to watch as one steps up to where Kenny sleeps, curled up in her usual corner.
It happens quickly. The flash of the syringe. She jerks awake, her eyes flickering and the familiar snarling sound echoing out to us as she presses herself back into the wall.
Her eyes are already glazing. She shakes her head once, again, as if trying to shake off the sedative, and my heart fucking aches at the small whine that ripples free into the air.
“They’re scaring her,” Jake snaps. “Surely there’s another way they can fucking do this—,”
One of the suited figures steps up to the window. They nod, before it turns to four faces staring back at me.
I’m on my feet. “What the fuck? Why have they blocked us out?”
“Privacy.” Oscar’s jaw is tight.
My frown deepens as I step up to the glass, but only my own reflection greets me now. I put my hands on it anyway, as if testing. “Jake’s right. There has to be a better way than this.”
“She won’t let them near her otherwise.” Oscar’s hand runs over his face. It sounds as if he’s trying to convince himself. “They’ll be quick. The sedative doesn’t last long.”
It feels like hours spent prowling up and down the hall beneath the flickering strip of white lighting. My agitation grows with every minute that she’s out of sight, prickling across the back of my neck and down my spine, tension wrapping around my lungs until I’m struggling to breathe.
They could be hurting her.
And we wouldn’t know. Turning, my hands slam against the glass. “Turn the fucking glass back on!”
“Theo.” Oscar tugs me away. “Kenny gave her permission for this. For all of it. But she didn’t give her permission for us to watch.”
“We’re her goddamned mates ,” I snap, throwing up my hands. “We’re the best ones to care for her, Oz. It shouldn’t even be a question. You think the fucking hazard crew in there are gonna bring her back?”
I don’t need a fucking hazard suit to be around my mate.
“You think I don’t feel exactly the same way you do?” Oscar snaps. He shoves his glasses up on his nose before he steps closer. His hand shoves lightly against my chest. “You think I don’t hate every moment that they’re in there and we can’t see it? Of course I do. But you start throwing dominance around, yelling and banging on the glass and you’ll be banned from seeing her too. Maybe we all will.”
I falter at that thought. Oscar scans my face. “Exactly. We have to be careful, Theo. Even if we hate every fucking second of it.”
“She’s back.” At Max’s hollow words, we both spin, almost banging into each other as the four of us scramble for the window.
Oscar’s low words barely reach my ears. “Are you sure you want to stay—,”
“I’m sure,” I say immediately. I don’t move my eyes away from the small figure on the bed.
I wasn’t sure I had any heart left to break, but I feel those jagged pieces shudder, crumble a little more. “They didn’t even brush her hair.”
It sprawls around her head in tangled, wet strands. Kenny’s eyes are still closed as the suits move around her, carrying in the things we brought with us. Fresh bandages cover her arms, her shoulder, disappearing down into the grey neckline of her top.
It all feels… wrong. They stack them up in the corner of the room before filing out, the steel door in the corner sliding closed behind them.
It takes a few minutes. The softness of her sleeping posture stiffens into instant, waking fury as her eyes fly open. Kenny darts off the bed, her steps wary and those little claws on her fingers raised in warning as she shifts, putting her back against the bare wall. Scarlet eyes sweep the room as she sucks in a shuddering breath, landing on the things in the corner.
Almost ten minutes pass before she finally moves. Her bare feet slowly pad over the concrete floor as she edges closer to the pile.
My hands find the glass again, my nose almost pressed to it. “That’s it, baby. Those are your things.”
Fuck, I wish I could talk to her. Max shared the code with us that he stole from Joanne, but we agreed to keep it for an emergency. Less chance of them finding out that way.
Kenny carefully drops to her haunches, her shoulders tight as she looks around. Her hand reaches out for a navy-blue blanket. Hers, from the trailer.
None of us breathe as she drags it to her nose and inhales, her eyes closing and her forehead furrowing into a slight frown.
She drops it beside her, moving on and digging through the pile with clear curiosity.
“She didn’t shred it,” Max breathes. Delight underscores his words.
My heart beats faster. “She can tell the difference?”
“It’s a good sign.” Oscar studies her intently as she yanks out something else. I frown at the rolled neck sweater in her hands. One of those ridiculous ones she wore to hide the bandages from us. I immediately despise the sight of it.
Jake winces. “They were in her cases, so I added them.”
Kenny examines it, turning it over in her hands.
Claws flash, the brown clothing now in three separate pieces that she tosses to the side with a small growl, her gaze intent on the pile in front of her.
Couldn’t agree more, baby.
This feels like more of Kenny than we’ve seen since we lost her. A little glimpse that I can’t stop watching. More clothing gets ripped into rags and ribbons, others added carefully to the small but growing keep pile beside her.
“What’s that?” I squint at what she’s holding. “Is that my shirt?”
Oscar looks unrepentant. “I added things from all of us. She needs our scents. And it’ll help to see how she responds.”
If I’d known, I would have added all of my shirts. Every single one.
Breath catching in my chest, I shift to face her again. Kenny holds up the faded red flannel material, examining it. Turning it around, before she pulls it to her nose and breathes in.
The small, agonized whine that uncurls from deep in her throat has my knees buckling. “ Kenny .”
She can’t hear me. My fingers curl against the glass as she shifts back, nearly falling over. Her head twists, looking around the empty room. “Ken. Baby. We’re right here.”
But she doesn’t know that. Knives slide into my chest, one after the other, as my mate gets to her feet and looks around, another whine rippling into the air. She takes a few steps toward the glass, my shirt still in her hands.
Three feet.
Two feet.
One.
And then she’s right there . Only a few inches away. Those vivid red eyes stare out at us, a slight buckle above them as if she’s confused.
“Kenny,” I breathe. Her name breaks on my lips.
And then she’s g one . My shirt falls from her hand as she snarls at me, at the glass, backing away until she reaches her corner again. Empty and bare, the things she chose abandoned on the floor. My shirt with them.
My forehead slumps into the glass. The hint of excitement that filled the air shrivels away, replaced by something closer to resignation.
“We shouldn’t have included mine.” My words are tight, forced out around the lump in my throat as my eyes close. “She might have responded better to yours.”
Of course she doesn’t want my shirt.
“Wait,” Oscar says sharply. “ Look .”
My head snaps up.
Kenny is moving again. Except this time, there’s a focus to her actions as she darts for the pile and begins digging through it, tossing things aside until she finds what she’s looking for.
A crumpled blue cotton shirt that I recognize as Oscar’s.
An oversize, dark green sweatshirt with Jake’s baseball team scrawled across the front.
Max’s work hoodie, a mix of orange and green.
She bundles them all into her arms and backs away, her foot pressing into red flannel, abandoned on the floor.
Kenny pauses.
And then she scoops my shirt up too, before tucking herself back into her corner. She keeps them cradled in her arms, the bundle of material held tightly to her chest. She doesn’t move. But she doesn’t let go.
The backs of my eyes burn.
Jake sounds as if he’s on the verge of tears himself. “That’s good, right? A good sign?”
“Yeah.” Oscar sounds like he’s taken his first full breath in weeks. “Yeah, it is.”