26. Twenty Four
Twenty Four
Cecil
Freezing water sets my nerve endings alight, and I wince at my reflection.
My hair is a wavy mess, half of it smashed to the side of my head from the few hours of sleep I got.
Eden screamed during the night, and I had to wake Creed to go to her.
She silenced almost instantly, but I never fell back asleep. I’ve got the dark circles to prove it.
The stress I’m under has to have me at risk of some sort of cardiac emergency. I haven’t been to the Refuge in nearly two weeks, and I’ve certainly never brought guests. No one there even knows I have a brother.
Things had been working out perfectly. Curran trusts me the most out of anyone, so he gives me the profiles of our high priority targets. Then, I’m able to take it directly to the Resistance. Within days, the target “disappears”.
We’re not able to save everyone, but even one is better than none.
Stomping downstairs, I make my way to Eden’s door. My hand closes around the doorknob, but at the last moment I think better of it, and I knock with the side of my fist a few times. A few minutes pass before the door creaks open. Eden rubs at bloodshot eyes, squinting at me through her fingers.
“It’s six o'clock. We need to leave in fifteen minutes,” I tell her gruffly, peering over her head and toward the bed. Creed is sprawled out like a starfish with sheets twisted around his body. My jaw ticks once, twice. I look back at Eden.
“Okay,” she replies, pivoting and heading towards her bathroom. On her way past the bed, she stops and grabs Creed’s foot, tugging until he rouses from his slumber.
With a dramatic harrumph, he sits up on the bed. Eden is already behind the closed bathroom door, and his gaze falls on my form in the doorway.
“We’re leaving?” He asks. To my dismay, I nod.
I gave into his insistence on accompanying us because I knew Eden would be anxious if it were just the two of us.
Being considerate is a pain in my ass.
A shit eating grin paints my brother’s face before he jumps up. Bolting past me to get to his room, I realize he’s clad only in boxers.
I have to count backwards from one hundred on my way to the kitchen.
By the time we’re piled in my truck, thirty seven minutes have passed. Side eyeing Eden in the middle seat, she gives me an apologetic grimace.
It’s about an hour drive to the Refuge, so I roll the window down and allow myself a cigarette as we kick up gravel behind us. I’ve tried to quit countless times, but it never sticks. Instead, I limit myself to one a day. With the way my hand trembles, I’d consider this a good time as any.
Eden tightly twists her hands in her lap, the tips of her fingers tingeing violet. Eyes as wide as moons, complexion ashen, she stares out the windshield. The moment she brings her fingers to her mouth, I’m slamming on the brakes.
Creed asks what’s wrong, but I’m too busy lifting Eden out of the truck in time for her to vomit along the yellow lines of the road. Cheeks hollowing, I inhale the smoke to stave off my own gag reflex.
Hands on her knees, the poor girl sobs and chokes, saliva creating a tether from her mouth to the pavement.
My fingers twine in her hair, holding it in a mussed ball at the base of her skull.
“It’s alright,” I mumble, my cigarette dangling from the corner of my lips as the smoke hovers around us. Begrudgingly, I spit it to the asphalt and stamp it out with my boot.
Raising back to full height, she turns to me with a mess of snot and tears dripping from her nose.
“Hold on.” I reach into the truck and rifle through the console. A worn bandana is shoved to the back and I snag it, handing it over. With trembling fingers, she lifts it to her face.
Shame colors her cheeks. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
When she offers the bandana back to me, I pinch it between my fingers and toss it into the weed swarmed ditch.
“Are you alright? We’re not far now,” I ask, glancing back to the truck where Creed watches on.
Her eyes become shifty, darting around her surroundings. Despite my need for punctuality, I lean against the wheel well.
When her eyes meet mine, they’re glistening. “I can’t,” she says. And I know that she isn’t referring to getting back in the vehicle.
Heaving a breath, I step forward and brace her by the shoulders. If we’re going to do this, I need her trust. Somewhere along the way, her safety has climbed my priority ladder.
“You can, and you have to. I’ll be right there with you. Creed, too,” I murmur, my voice as gentle as it’s ever been. It’s new, being a patient man, but hell if I’m not trying. “I’ve trusted you enough to tell you everything, haven't I?”
She blinks.
“Now it’s your turn to trust me. I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.” My hands travel lower, and I rub soothing circles along the inside of her bicep.
A single pink tear blooms on her lash line, and I catch it before it falls.
“I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
The confession comes with a heaving chest. Curling her lips past her teeth, I flinch at the silencing bite.
With a long exhale, I consider her position. I don’t know the extent of her abilities, but I do know it must take an incredible toll on her.
“You won’t,” I promise firmly. Her gaze finds mine, and by the feel of it, a fissure must have formed in the depths of my chest.
With a sniffle, Eden squares her shoulders and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. Determination wipes away despair, and she climbs back into the truck.
The rest of the drive, I wonder if I just lied to her.
Thankfully, the Refuge looks the same. Through a copse of trees, sat in a clearing, RV’s and trailers dapple the overgrown grass. An embankment leads to a creek, the only water source for miles. It’s not ideal, but it’s secluded.
My heart threatens to beat out of my chest, the truck bumbling forward slowly. Curtains sway in windows, people peeking through at the newcomers. They probably armed themselves as soon as they heard the distant hum of an engine.
Eden’s shoulder brushes mine, and I realize she’s trembling. Creed must realize too, because he reaches over and slides his fingers through hers.
“Let me do the talking,” I remind them.
“Bummer,” Creed signs, feigning sincerity. “Eden and I love to talk.”
I sneer at my brother. Many of the members speak sign language, but I don’t bother telling Creed that. Since he wants to be a smartass, I flip him the bird and hop out of the vehicle.
At the forefront of the camp sits a large blue and white RV.
Fortunately, its door is the first to swing open.
We don’t necessarily have a leader, but Veda is the closest to carrying that title.
In her mid-fifties, she’s the most cunning woman I’ve ever met.
She might look harmless with her graying roots and smile lines, but I would never cross her.
Veda greets me with a soft smile and a pat on the cheek.
“Well, look what we have here. I was wondering if you’d died, you know,” she tsks.
“Sorry to disappoint.” My eyes flit over the RV.
Following my gaze, she smirks. “Sylvie is on a run. She’ll be back soon.”
Outwardly, I only grunt in response. Internally, though, I heave a sigh of relief. Out of everyone, her reaction is the one I’m most worried about.
The bang of the truck door closing makes my shoulders tense, and Veda turns sharp eyes on me.
“Bring someone with you?” she asks, her words holding an edge of unhappiness.
No one is supposed to know we’re here, and we don’t allow newcomers without a vote. It wasn’t always that way, but there was an incident that changed things. A man, Walter, brought a woman he had met months before. As it turned out, that woman was actually the wife to one of the Brothers.
They stormed our camp and killed three people.
“They’re no threat to us,” I implore.
The soft look she had given me before ignites into fire. This is why she scares the shit out of me.
“And tell me, Cecil, how do you know?” She spits, fist curled like she might strike me.
The confession is on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t get the words out. No one, no one, knows about Creed. That’s always been my priority.
But, that was before everything went to shit.
“Because he’s my brother.”
Veda’s jaw drops, and she blinks before looking past me. The footsteps behind me have stilled, and I can feel the two of them at my back.
The older woman curses under her breath, looking between Creed and I.
“Jesus,” she says on a sigh. Raising her hands to her skull, she massages her temples like my very presence has given her a migraine. It probably has.
Other curtains have since been pulled back, more and more faces pressed to the windowpanes.
“Can we talk somewhere private?” I ask lowly.
Though it looks like it pains her, Veda concedes and we follow her into her RV.
The door has long since rusted, indigo paint chipping away with the faintest touch.
The inside isn’t faring much better, but it’s homey enough—afghan blankets are thrown across a faded couch, incense lit on the single burner stovetop.
With the door shut behind us, Veda motions me forward and I lead the other two into the living space. The older woman watches them go by, and when her eyes catch on Eden, they widen momentarily.
We stand awkwardly in a semicircle until I insist Eden sit down, which she does, but only after Creed. The air is thick with anticipation. Keeping my hands busy, I pick up a blanket and attempt to fold it.
“Housekeeping, are you?” Veda asks with a raised brow. Her arms are crossed, clearly waiting for me to spit out what I came to say. The issue is, I don’t know where to begin.
“How old is he?” She juts her thumb towards Creed. He looks on intently, eyes darting between our mouths.
“Twenty.”
“She his girlfriend?”
“No.” The word comes out much too quickly. Her brows hike up and her index finger taps her lips as she studies me. Not a fan of scrutiny, I shift on my feet and avert my gaze.
“Yours then?”
“No!” Jesus Christ.
I watch the couch from the corner of my eye. Creed’s face remains neutral, but Eden’s cheeks are blooming magenta.
“Right,” Veda mutters, turning her back on me to get into the fridge. Her hand comes out holding two bottles of beer, and I snag one eagerly.
A moment passes where we both take sips—her studying me, me studying the scuffs on my boots. This is somehow more difficult than I thought it would be, and I haven’t even told her the worst of it.
“So,” She motions towards the three of us. “Are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on? Because unfortunately, I’m not a mind reader.”
I can do this. Taking one look at Creed, I inhale and let the truth pour out.
I begin with our childhood; Creed’s illness that left him deaf, our no-good father, and our decision to leave home. I don’t go into too much detail, but I try to make Veda understand why I’ve kept him a secret.
Then, I explain how we found Eden locked in the attic, on the brink of starvation. Veda mumbles her disapproval.
I leave out most of the gory details as far as Eden’s father and the man at the pond. That might be too much, too soon. With the way Eden relaxes into the couch, I’m sure she appreciates it.
I finish off with the incident at the Sanctuary.
My mouth is cotton-dry, and I take another swig of beer. I’ve been talking so long it’s grown room temperature.
No one speaks as Veda digests the influx of information. Three torturous minutes of silence pass before I cave.
“Well?” I prod. “Aren’t you going to say something?”
She gives me a look that toes the line between disappointment and pity.
“This won’t end well, Cecil. I don’t see how it can.”
The words are like a punch to the gut, and I fight to keep my composure. I don’t crumble. I can’t.
“What do you mean? I saved her from being murdered, and they still haven’t found out about my brother. In my opinion, things aren’t too bad.”
Veda nods in understanding, but her gaze remains heavy.
“Yes. But now that the Brothers are aware of the power this young woman wields, there will be no slipping into the night with her. Our usual tactics aren’t a viable option,” she warns. Her tone is gentle, but the words cut like a knife regardless.
Placing my bottle on the counter, I approach Veda and clasp her hand between mine.
“We’ve been waiting for an opportunity, right? With Eden, we have one. It will take a few months of training, but I can keep them off our trail until then. We have the firepower, and there’s more of us than ever.” I’m begging, but I can’t find it in myself to care.
She tilts her head back and looks into my eyes, the wrinkles of her forehead deepening.
“You know it’s not up to me. We’ll have to ask the others.”
I do know that, but I grimace at the thought. Not everyone at the Refuge is a fan of me, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to convince them their life is worth risking to save my brother’s. And Eden’s.
“Okay.” The word is bitter in my mouth.
Veda pats my cheek affectionately just as the door swings open and a feminine voice calls out her name. As if this day couldn’t get any more difficult.
My jaw tenses, and I reluctantly turn my gaze toward our guest.
Sylvie’s eyes meet mine, and a huge smile overtakes her face.
She unceremoniously drops bundled grocery bags to the floor and starts towards me.
Her eyes fall on the couch for a moment, and she does a double take before stopping in her tracks.
Confusion furrows her dark brows, and she looks between Veda and me.
“Who’s that?” She asks, the smile slowly slipping from her face. I gnaw at my cheek, looking to Veda for help. She throws her hands up and turns back toward the fridge.
Fuck.
“We should go outside,” I say, stepping in front of her to block the two of them from her view. Her eyes narrow in accusation, and without a word, she whips around and swings the door back open.
Lord be with me.