32. Thirty
Thirty
Cecil
Blurry faces pass above me. It’s bright, and then it’s dark, and then it’s bright again. Flexing my fingers, I try to move from the position I’m in. Something heavy pushes me down at the shoulders, and I let out a frustrated grunt.
“If you don’t hold still, we’re not gonna be able to fix up that pretty face of yours.”
The voice is familiar, and I turn my head in the direction of it. The movement makes my brain swim in my skull, and I squeeze my eyes shut again.
“Veda?” I rasp. Reaching blindly, my fingers brush what I assume is her hand.
“In the flesh,” she quips. “Don’t make me repeat myself, or I’m using duct tape.”
Time passes at an indiscernible rate. Whoever is working on me doesn’t do so gently, every poke and prod making me wince in pain. With the searing heat of antiseptic, I suck in a hiss through my teeth. Then comes the pressure of gauze and my hands curl into tight fists.
Finally, the pain has ebbed, but only slightly. Satisfied with their work, I hear a hum of approval and a brisk, “Done.”
My eyelids peel back and I peer around the room.
It’s not any of the trailers I’ve been in before.
Charlie, our oldest member and retired doctor, makes his way towards Veda in the corner, speaking in hushed tones.
They talk that way for quite some time. Until, without another glance in my direction, Charlie steps out, leaving Veda and I alone.
She takes a moment, staring out the door. Her shoulders are tawny and freckled from years beneath the sun, and her gray hair is gathered in a loose braid. If you walked past her on the street, you’d never have a clue the kind of strength she possesses.
“You’ll live to see another day,” she proclaims.
Hefting myself into a sitting position, I look down. Flecks of blood paint my chest. Most of it has been wiped away, but the evidence of my beating remains. Well, that and my face feels like it’s been ripped off and then glued back on.
Fucking humiliating.
“Where is that piece of shit?” My words come out slurred, courtesy of a fat lip.
She hesitates, glancing at me over her shoulder. Her eyes linger on my face, and I shift uncomfortably. It’s not pity that I see, but regret.
“I should have kicked him out ages ago,” she mutters, shaking her head with a dry laugh. “We all knew he was a little nuts, but my God. He could have killed you.” Her voice quivers.
“Well, send my regards to whoever stepped in.” My lips twitch with an effort at humor. There’s a tearing sensation in the corner of my mouth. The almost-smile drops expeditiously.
“You should thank her yourself. Poor thing’s a wreck.”
Cocking my head to the side, I look at her quizzically.
“She?” I question. “Sylvie?”
I thought she was at the firearms station. There’s no telling how long I was on the ground, though, so it’s possible she stormed over to save the day. God forbid someone wring my neck other than her.
Veda laughs, the lines around her eyes deepening.
“No, though I did have to stop her from putting a bullet between Jasper’s eyes.” There’s a hint of affection to her words. Two of the most intimidating women I know, it’s no wonder they’re close.
I wrack my brain, unable to think of another woman that would get involved. “Then who?”
She comes to sit at the edge of the cot and I shift to give her room.
“Eden.”
It takes a moment to register, and I stare at her dumbly. When realization strikes, my heart jumpstarts. I rise from the bed. Like a beacon, my body urges me to go to her.
Veda is much more muscular than one might think, so when she grips my bicep, it halts my rapid movements. There’s no doubt I’m concussed, because as soon as my ass plops back down onto the mattress, the room spins. Frustrated, pissed off, and sore, I yell out a slew of curse words.
“Now, now,” Veda hushes, coaxing me like an infant. “Don’t hurt yourself. My old heart can only take so much in one day, you know.”
Lashing out like an injured animal, I rip my arm from her grasp and spit my words through bared teeth. “I need to see her.”
To make sure she’s alright.
The pulsing in my head crescendos into a raging hammer. The panic I felt when I couldn’t find her that day… and then the panic when I did find her? It was unbearable.
Annoyingly enough, Veda’s expression doesn’t change, remaining perfectly calm.
“Creed is with her,” she says exasperatedly.
I scowl, ignoring the way it tugs on what feels like stitches in the bridge of my nose. It does bring me some relief, I’ll admit, knowing Eden is with Creed. My breathing comes easier, and the muscles in my body no longer feel like they’re going to jump from my skin.
Veda motions towards the pillow on the cot, and reluctantly, I lean back. I make a point not to lie down all the way.
“If you’re done showing your ass, we have an important matter to discuss.”
One question comes to mind instantly, and I quirk an eyebrow.
“Is he dead?”
“Thankfully, no.”
“Keep those thanks to yourself,” I mutter, folding my hands behind my head. The ceiling is yellowed, and the stench of cigarette smoke mingles with that of disinfectant. Not quite up to health code, huh, Charlie?
“And everyone else?” I query, bracing myself for the answer. With my luck, Jasper remains alive, but everyone else has been deafened.
“That’s the strange thing,” she begins. Her eyes go out of focus, as if she’s watching the memory unfold in midair. “Jasper took the brunt of it, even with him being the furthest from where she sat. There’ll be some lingering tinnitus for the rest of us, I’m sure, but nothing too damaging.”
She pauses, considering. “And you… you were right there with him. Shouldn’t it have affected you?”
I stare at Veda, dumbfounded. How could that be?
The day at the Sanctuary, she knocked all of us unconscious.
If Eden suddenly learned how to control her ability, wouldn’t we have noticed?
Doing a self-check, I zero in on my hearing.
Perfectly intact. My vision, fuzzy, but I think the excess of knuckles colliding with my skull has something to do with that.
I don’t even remember hearing anything. Maybe I was passed out the whole time and that spared me?
A month ago, I didn’t believe in any of this stuff. Not in evil, or darkness, or supernatural beings. Now, I’m living with one. Not only that, but her life is quite literally in the palm of my hand. I’m meant to protect this girl who could kill me within seconds. The irony is not lost on me.
“I underestimated her,” Veda admits, breaking me from my thoughts.
A sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh bursts out of me, and I shake my head incredulously.
“You have no idea,” I mumble, closing my eyes. Relaxing into the cot, I cross my legs at the ankle.
“She’s killed before, then?” Her tone is casual, as if we’re discussing the weather. I hum noncommittally. It feels too much like a betrayal to Eden for me to open my mouth and let her deepest shame spill out.
She doesn’t press for details. That’s one of my favorite things about her.
“We must do something,” Veda says, her tone bordering on pity. God, haven’t I had enough of that?
When I don’t respond, Veda leans until her face is in my field of vision.
“She cannot go on like this. She’s hanging on by a thread, Cecil.”
The words stoke the flame of my ire.
“Yes, you’ve said this before,” I remind her.
Veda stands, propping her hands on her hips. Her eyes are piercing, so I avoid them, my own bouncing around the room. Old wallpaper peels along the seams of the wall, dingy and smoke stained. Charlie should just tear it all down.
“You have to protect her.”
A bomb goes off inside me, and I don’t have it within myself to try and contain it. Dizziness be damned, I push to my feet, shouting all the while.
“What the fuck do you think I’ve been trying to do!?” The volume is enough for Veda’s eye to twitch in the whisper of a flinch, but she sets her jaw and doesn’t back down. She never does.
Her lips part, but I slash my arm through the air to cut her off.
“I could have kicked her out, but I let her stay. I fed her, I bought her clothes, I got her a goddamned sketchpad because she likes to draw!” A finger pops out with each addition to my list.
“I’ve bathed her. I’ve saved her from psychotic murderers.
I’ve risked MY LIFE to keep her alive! I brought her here for fuck’s sake!
What else would you have me do, Veda, huh?
” The vein in my neck is ready to burst, and my hands shake with the adrenaline coursing through me.
It’s not often that I lose control, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel good to voice months worth of frustration.
I don’t expect a thank you, and I probably don’t deserve it, but sometimes it feels like I’m viewed as the villain regardless of my efforts.
Veda exhales, nodding her head absently as if I didn’t scream expletives in her face. The way she looks at me borders on placating as she takes a step forward, lips lifting into a sad smile.
“I know you care for her-”
“I care for my brother.”
The smile vanishes, and she speaks through bared teeth. “I. Wasn’t. Finished.” Each word is punctuated with a poke to my chest.
Grumbling, I close my mouth and drop my hands to my sides. My molars gnash together in an effort to stop an influx of choice words from escaping.
“I know you care for her, because you make it painfully obvious. Whether or not you feel like admitting that right now is not a concern of mine. My concern is the wellbeing of those around me.
She is powerful in ways that could be wildly useful to us, yes. But it comes with a cost.” Her words are sharp, lancing into me.
Suddenly, she gives a far away look, as if deep in a memory.
“If she’s able to control it, which it seems she is, then we have a bigger advantage than I could have imagined. But if it takes control of her? You cannot imagine the suffering that she will endure.”
Eyeing her speculatively, I clench and unclench my fists. “And you can?”
Her answering look is one of confusion.
“You said I cannot imagine it,” I elaborate. “But you can?”
It takes her a moment, but once my words catch up to her, something flickers across her features. There’s a sheen in her eyes, either remorse or dejection. Perhaps a mixture. Mulling my words over, she looks to the ground. A shaky breath, a hard swallow.
“To an extent,” comes her vague reply. Always vague. How could I expect anything else?
As much as I want to escape this grating conversation, I swallow my pride and push for answers.
“And why would that be?”
Veda suddenly looks defeated. “There are things I have not told you.” Her admission comes out carefully. Probably because she knows what she says next could tear the relationship we’ve built to shreds.
“I would like to take Eden somewhere. I think it might help,” she suggests, eyeing me with apprehension.
If it weren’t for the stitches in my face, I would attempt to scrub the tension out of it with my palms. Instead, I’m forced to sit in my discomfort. And every time Veda opens her mouth, she adds to it.
“Where?” I sneer, leaving her to walk into the adjoining bathroom. I turn the tap on and yank a towel off a hook. Wetting an edge, I scrub some of the blood from my chest. Veda’s reflection appears in the mirror in front of me.
“A house. It’s a few towns over, no more than an hour and a half drive from here.”
Tossing the towel into the sink with unnecessary force, I shoot the woman behind me a glare.
“The last thing she needs is to be carted around to God knows where,” I snap, leaving little room for argument. Or so I thought.
She begins to talk as I spin around, escaping the bathroom. “Eden doesn’t even understand what she is. The least you could do is give me an opportunity to help her work through this.”
She’s hot on my heels as I maneuver around the unfamiliar space. I spot my shirt and snag it from the nightstand, tugging it over my head. The motion gives me a brief bout of vertigo, but I don’t let it show.
“And how exactly do you intend to do that by taking her somewhere? If you want to have a conversation, fine, but you can do it here. With me.”
“You’re having quite the reaction for someone who doesn’t care about the girl.”
My eyes shoot to hers. I’m met with a stubborn set jaw, but mirth dances in her stare. There’s a challenge hanging in the air between us, and I’m damned either way. Exhaustion weakens my defenses, and all I offer is a roll of my eyes. I make my way to the door.
“All I’m asking is this: What lengths will you go to for her?”
My hand pauses mid-turn of the doorknob, and my shoulders tense. In the back of my mind, the words that I worked so hard to tamp down wriggle free from their confines. Slamming to the forefront, I’m struck with the image of Creed’s face, twisted in anger and disappointment. Disappointment in me.
For once in your life, can you care for someone other than yourself?
Squeezing my eyes shut, I inhale a staggering breath. Giving in isn’t anything familiar to me. It’s quite unpleasant. It feels like weakness.
When I speak, I don’t turn around. I don’t want to see the victory on Veda’s face.
“I’ll think about it.”