Chapter 1
Cameron
Thirty-five days have passed since Emery woke up and said the worst words I’ve ever heard: “I don’t know who you are.”
The look in her eyes as she took me in for what felt like the first time again was the most gut-wrenching thing a person could go through. At least, I think so.
You reap what you sow. Isn’t that the fucking saying?
Misery has nothing on me. The agony that pumps through my veins is like sulfuric acid.
I push myself through each day, hoping and longing for her to remember me…
to remember what we went through together.
But another part of me hopes she’ll never find the pieces of us left in the past. It’s easier to keep her safe this way.
I never want to hurt her again.
Even if that means I’ll suffer for it.
I take a deep breath of the warm California winter air and lean back on the bench as I watch Emery completely destroy Gage in a hand-to-hand sparring match.
My eyes narrow on her. She fights better than she ever has and it’s because that’s all she puts her focus into anymore. I rarely catch her in the library like I frequently did during the Under Trials. Nor do I see her helping others tend to their wounds after they get injured during training.
The only thing that’s remained is her absurdly attractive personality.
I’m afraid she’s grown more morbidly comedic.
I credit it to her forgotten tragic past, and it’s near impossible to try to keep my stoic face around her.
I guess she’s probably picked up a lot from being stuck with the squad.
Though I’ve yet to see one real smile cross her face.
I wonder if she learned that from Gage. Out of all of us, he hides behind his fake grin most. I don’t bother trying to convince people I’m some elated asshole.
Pretending takes more effort than it’s worth.
I glower at Emery when her eyes flash my direction. She flinches and quickly focuses back into the fight. It sends an uncomfortable ache through my chest.
No one is making me keep my distance from her, or to push her away, but I can’t let what happened during the last trial happen again. The more closed off I am, the safer she will be. The more I let the pain in my chest fester, the better.
Thomas kicks his feet onto a crate he snagged for us to use as a footrest and downs a long swig from his canteen.
The scent of whiskey hits me before his laugh does.
“Damn, that girl sure can beat the shit out of a guy, can’t she?
I still can’t believe someone with pink hair is on the Fury Squad,” he muses, tilting his flask up and gulping down the last of his drink.
I side-eye him before letting my gaze move back to her. “I like her hair,” I say mundanely as I watch her flip Gage easily. A small grin almost breaks over my lips, but I hold it back.
Lieutenant Erik slipped her some hair dye so she could touch up her roots. Kayden helped her out with it since he was the only one who actually knew how to color hair.
They’ve all taken to her quickly. After reviewing the footage of her skills in the Under, and how seamlessly we work together, they were more than happy to acquire a new squad mate that won’t face their demise at my hands.
But she almost did. I silence that part of my head, biting down on my cheek.
Thomas grunts as he stands, shoving his hands into his brown leather coat pockets and nudging my boot. “Yeah, I’m sure you do, Mori. Is that why you knocked the brains out of her head?”
It’s not a secret. No matter how badly I wish it was. Everyone on the squad knows. Too bad I’m far beyond deserving of shame to them, given that I’ve killed three of our other squad mates already. They take her surviving as a celebration. I wish they’d ridicule me more like they once did.
It felt like I belonged more back then. Like I was still a person and not a weapon they needed to follow orders.
I glare at him and he shoots me a careless grin. Thomas is easily the biggest asshole on my squad. With his light-brown mullet and wild eyes, you’d think he’d be a goner out in the field, but he’s the best signaler I’ve ever worked with.
It’s advantageous to just ignore him. He loves to piss me off, so the more I react, the more he feeds into it. I take a long breath and stand as Gage and Emery finish their sparring match. My comrade is locked in her hold and tapping her arm repeatedly. His cheeks are red.
For a moment, I question if she’s going to let him go or not.
Her eyes flick to mine again, colder this time.
Chills erupt over my arms. My jaw flexes and I push down all the emotions I long to let her see.
Why does she keep looking at me with such curious eyes?
What will it take to make her stop? My hands curl into fists.
For her sake, this is who I have to be.
“My turn,” I grumble, unzipping my tactical jacket and letting it fall to the ground behind me.