Chapter 5
The bell rang, signaling dinner rations, but I didn’t leave the clinic.
I’d pulled the mattress back up to the loft.
It hadn’t been easy by myself, but I’d refused to ask for help.
Jax had dropped off some worn but clean blankets, so I made up the bed.
I found an old rusty pair of scissors in the cabinet and slid them under the mattress, relieved to have a way to defend myself.
I was placing a candle next to the mattress when I heard the door open.
“Bones?” Griz called. “You hear the bell? It’s dinnertime.”
“I’m not hungry,” I said from the loft.
He peered up at me, brow furrowing. Then he stepped outside and shut the door.
Relieved, I lay down on my mattress, which I’d placed against the wall at an angle so I could see the ladder.
I figured I could probably pull the ladder up with me at night, too, adding another layer of protection.
I stared at the darkening sky out the window, lost in my thoughts. Then the door opened again.
“Bones?”
I scowled, recognizing Trey’s voice. I sat upright, but I didn’t answer. I heard him come in and shut the door behind him.
“I brought dinner.”
I let out a heavy sigh. “I’m not hungry,” I repeated dully.
The single light bulb turned on, blinding me. I swore under my breath, squinting past the white spots in my vision. Trey crossed the room, and then the ladder shifted as he began to climb. I folded my arms and waited. His head popped up a second later, all smiling brown eyes.
“Electricity turns on after dark. Can I come in?” he asked.
I debated telling him no, but I feared he’d come in anyway. I shrugged. He crossed the small loft, holding two packs of something wrapped in tinfoil.
“C’mon.” He smiled as he sank next to my mattress. “They had fresh butter today. You don’t wanna miss that.”
A wave of nausea hit me. “No thanks.”
Ignoring me, he set the packets down, unwrapping a thick slice of bread with some cooked meat and, as promised, butter.
“See, I know you’re lying, ’cause you haven’t had anything to eat since yesterday.” He nudged one of the packets closer to me. “An’ you’re practically skin and—” He paused, his eyes flashing to my face in sudden realization. “Bones.”
I glared at him, daring him to ask. He pressed his lips together, but the corners twitched up.
“Just a few bites,” he wheedled. “C’mon, Bones.”
“If I eat a few bites, will you leave?” I snapped.
He grinned. “Yep.”
I grabbed the bread and bit into it. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had butter, and the rich flavor that melted on my tongue tasted like heaven. I forced myself to take another bite before I lost my nerve. Trey beamed at me like I’d made his day.
“Good job!” he cheered.
I threw the rest of the bread at him. He caught it and took a big bite, still grinning.
“Now go away.”
He shook his head, laughter dancing in those warm eyes. “I didn’t say when I’d leave.”
I glared at him.
“Don’t tell me you’d rather sit up here by yourself,” Trey said. “You’d miss my sparkling personality.”
“Like I’d miss a hole in the head.”
He laughed and ate more of my bread, apparently not at all bothered by me.
“You should try the deer steaks,” he said between bites. “They’re not bad.”
“What happened to the last healer?” I asked instead.
Trey sobered. “Madame executed him after Viper, her partner, died.”
I wasn’t exactly surprised. “How’d Viper die?”
“He got real sick with a fever a few months ago. At first it seemed like one we’d had about a year ago. Lotta people died.”
I glanced up at that. A fever had killed off over half the Reapers about a year ago, too.
Juck had boasted about being untouchable, and only I knew he’d fallen ill, and I’d healed him.
I lost count of how many times I sobbed in the crude medical tent over sick folks gasping for air and begged their forgiveness after they’d taken their last breath.
Vulture had acted sorry for me, but I knew he’d been calculating how to use me and the Reapers’ deaths to fuel his takeover.
“But Madame believes Viper was poisoned. That…” He hesitated. “That man, Hojo? Madame got it in her head he was the one who carried it out.”
I could practically hear my heart thudding, shame twisting my lungs into knots.
“Anyways, the old healer couldn’t save Viper, so she killed him, then imprisoned Hojo. That was a couple months ago. We’ve been without a healer since then,” Trey continued. “Nobody wanted to volunteer after that.”
I stared at a spot on the wall. I didn’t blame ’em. I wasn’t sure what was worse: not having healing powers or having them and not being allowed to use them. Either way, it meant having to watch a lot of people die.
Trey reached toward me, and I flinched out of habit. He jerked back.
“I wasn’t gonna hit you.”
I shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his eyes and hating the heat creeping up my neck.
“Bones, I’m never gonna hit you.”
“Madame—” I started angrily, but he interrupted.
“What Madame did last night was fucking evil,” he said, low and earnest. “I’m not gonna lie to you and say everyone here is a good person.
But I won’t ever lay a hand on you, I swear.
Nobody in our crew will. Mac is real strict about that kinda shit.
And if anybody messes with you, they’ll deal with us. ”
I remembered Mac grabbing my arm, the rage in his eyes, and how I thought he would hit me. Sure. I’ll believe that when I see it.
After a beat, Trey cleared his throat. “What I was gonna say was, I don’t think you’ll have to worry about ending up like our old healer. He obviously couldn’t do miracles like you.”
My eyes burned. Miracles. No, I wasn’t afraid of being sentenced to death. I was too valuable to be executed, and there were plenty of things worse than death. I learned that lesson as a child.
“Seriously, you should try these steaks,” Trey said again, his voice lighter.
“If I eat them, will you go away immediately?”
“Deal,” Trey said with a giant grin.
I rolled my eyes and managed to eat most of one of the steaks before I had to stop. I tried to ignore the rising nausea.
“You okay?” Trey asked, looking up from his food.
I lurched to my feet and darted around him, sliding down the ladder. I barely made it outside before I hurled up everything I’d eaten into the dirt.
“Whoa,” someone said. “What the fuck?”
The clinic door opened and slapped shut behind me.
“What’s goin’ on?”
“I dunno,” Trey answered.
They gave me some space as I finally managed to stop heaving, to my relief.
A handkerchief appeared, and I took it without looking at whoever offered it, wiping my mouth.
My face burned again. I hated looking weak like this.
I turned around to see Sam standing beside Trey. He was shorter but similarly lean.
“You okay?” Trey asked again.
“Fine,” I snapped.
“Yeah, looks like it,” Sam said dryly. “I often puke my guts out when I’m fine.”
I couldn’t muster the energy to glare at him. I offered the handkerchief, but Sam shook his head.
“Nah, you keep it.”
I shoved it into my pocket and ducked my head, letting my hair shield my face, and tried to slide past them back to the clinic. Trey moved to block me.
“What’s going on? Are you sick?” he asked.
“No.”
Trey gave me a look of disbelief, and Sam’s eyes narrowed. I desperately wished they’d let me return inside and leave me alone.
“Are you pregnant?” Sam asked.
“Gods, no.” I couldn’t contain the horror at the thought.
“So what’s goin’ on then, Shortcake?” Sam pushed.
I bit the inside of my cheek, refusing to react to the nickname. Trey watched with open interest but didn’t comment either. Gods, I almost missed the Reapers. Sure they were all violent assholes, but at least none of them pestered me like this.
“It’s nothing. This always happens when I haven’t eaten for a long time.”
Sam crossed his arms. “Whad’ya mean ‘always’?”
“Gods, will you let it go?” I demanded.
This time when I pushed past them, they let me, but they both followed me inside. I bit back a scream of frustration.
“Out with it, Shortcake,” Sam threatened. “You’re a part of this crew now, and we need to know why you’re gettin’ sick. Don’t make me get Mac. He gets real pissy when we disrupt his beauty sleep.”
I gave him an incredulous look. What the fuck? Why were they making me talk about this? Were they worried I wouldn’t be able to do my job?
“I can heal. It’s not gonna affect my work, alright?”
Trey and Sam exchanged a look I didn’t understand.
“We’re not asking ’cause of that,” Trey said. “We’re asking ’cause we want to make sure you’re not sick.”
“I already told you I’m not sick!” I cried, frustrated.
“So explain it, then,” Sam demanded.
They weren’t going to let it go. I hugged myself, ignoring the pain in my shoulder as the stitches stretched.
“Juck didn’t let me eat when I pissed him off. It happened all the fucking time so I know how to deal with it. I just have to eat small amounts of bland shit for a while until my body adjusts, and then I’ll be fine.”
The silence crackled with tension.
“He starved you when he was mad?” Sam asked.
“It’s not a big deal,” I reiterated defensively.
“It is a big deal,” Trey said, and I flinched at the anger in his voice. “How long would he make you go without food?”
“I dunno. It varied.”
“But long enough that you get sick when you try to eat?”
“I can still work.”
“No, Bones! That’s not what we’re upset about.” Trey released an exasperated breath. “You never should have been treated like that.”
My throat closed. I didn’t want to go down that path. Dwelling on it wouldn’t change anything. I just had to keep going.
Survive, Wolf agreed.
“Nobody’s gonna do that here,” Sam said. “Not while you’re in our crew. What kinda bland food do you need?”
Anger crept over me. I did not fucking understand them at all. “So torture is fine, but starving somebody isn’t?”
“No, torture is not fine,” Trey snapped.
“Trey,” Sam warned.
They glared at each other for a moment before Trey turned back to me.
“Tell us what you need,” he said.