4. Cheers to new enemies #2
“That’s an understatement. Being stabbed so many times hurts like a bitch. I’m still feeling it.” Piecing the memories together my mind still holds after being knocked off the bench, I think even further back to the haunted fields with Rosie.
“Well, it’s settled. A harmless secret between us girls. If word gets out about this, glooms will be the least of our problems.” Seriousness gleams against her sparkling blue irises, reflecting the truth of her words.
“Deal. Now tell me, because this fight with sushi is a losing battle.”
“Okay–Okay. Focus on your stomach. Concentrate deeply on that absent feeling,” she insists.
“Easy, I’m pretty damn hungry.”
“Uh–huh, whatever that means,” Angie murmurs. Before I can address her input, she continues, “Now repeat after me. Vade Retro.”
“Vade what?” Because what the hell does that even mean?
“Retro.”
“Uh okay, Very Retro,” I project confidently, “ is something supposed to happen…because I’m still hungry. Or am I missing something?”
Angie sighs, “You misspoke, so no, you won’t feel anything. How about we attempt a lesser version. Something easier for you.” Annoyance rears up at her condescending tone, but I oblige, nonetheless. “Holding focus over your midsection, say Absentis,” she orders, sternly.
“Absentis? What is–” But before finishing my statement, the desire to eat vanishes.
I’m no longer hungry. Despite knowing I want this delicious sushi, the urge no longer exists.
Which scares the shit out of me. “What happened, and why am I no longer hungry?” Tingles flutter around my core, and I frown in utter shock.
She gleefully voices, “So, it worked then?”
“What worked? What is happening?”
“Shh. Keep it down.” Angie waves an objecting hand towards my tone. “Remember, our secret.” She sweeps the room as if preparing for a tactical team to breach the door and arrest her for…whatever the hell we’ve done.
The door quietly opens, and Elizabeth peeks her head inside. “Kyra, are you awake?” Neither of us noticed her approach, which is odd since she is wearing heels.
“Shit.” Angie places a discrete finger over her lips, and I nod. This little secret is ours, or at least until more light is shed upon what transpired.
“Hey, Elizabeth. You can come in.” The door pushes open, and my room brightens with the overhead lights as she flicks them on. I cower behind my eyelids, flinching, and groaning from the sudden bright invasion.
“Oh, Angie, you’re here too. What a pleasant surprise,” she offers, and it takes a second for me to pry my eyes open.
Her advancement echoes around the room, and I’m left baffled at each *click* *click* of her steps now when they were silent not long ago. That’s some freaky shit. Angie removes herself as an obstacle, and I place the dish back on its tray, disappointed my appetite no longer exists.
“Was it not to your liking, Kyra? The sushi,” she asks.
“No, it’s not that. It seems well prepared. Appealing even. I’m just not as hungry as before.” I scowl towards Angie.
“Is that so?” Elizabeth mimics my gaze, and Angie deflects with a childlike grin before looking away. “Well, we can leave it here in case your desire returns.” Not sure if she pieced together what we’ve done, an inkling tells me this secret is no longer ours .
“Thank you.”
“Anyway, it appears all your skin has healed, so that’s refreshing. Some minimal scarring, but that’ll fade over time. How’s everything internal?” she asks, pressing into my stomach. Despite feeling reassured and okay, I’m cautious because everything is definitely not okay .
“Minus my bones and organs feeling like they were somebody’s punching bag, I’m fine.” Elizabeth removes her hand, and I push back the blanket. It takes a second, but I finally notice I’m wearing something of a gym uniform, with a gray crest on my shirt and sweatpants.
Where the hell are my clothes? In fact, who changed me, and what is this symbol? I glide a finger over the printed crest.
“Elizabeth, how’s the female?” an older gentleman projects, walking in like he owns the place. I quickly pull the blanket up and scowl in his direction.
“Mr. Holland! You don’t get to stalk in here, unannounced, no matter who you are!” Elizabeth returns.
Disregarding her outburst, he acknowledges Angie. “They need you in the boardroom. Go there at once and prepare for the debrief.” His tone, a heavy cadence, matches the one who came in earlier. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to conclude they’re the same.
“Yes, sir.” She curtsies, then takes her leave.
Elizabeth repeats, “Did you hear me? She could be exposed.”
“While that may be true, the fact is, she’s not.
So, let’s skip the pleasantries, and give me an update,” he rebuttals.
She scoffs but drops the conversation with a head shake.
Implying, to ‘pay him no mind.’ Easier said than done.
He emits ‘asshole’ energy, which heats my core and relinquishes a scowl of disgust.
“Her vitals are fine. Kyra is back to normal but has some internal suffering.”
“Can we quicken the female’s progress? She is needed for debriefing…now.” Female? Who the fu…
“Her name is Kyra. And I can’t ensure the outcome if such methods are attempted. Especially since her being a fay is unknown.”
“What’s a fay?” I inquire softly. But instant regret presses onto my chest as Holland approaches, and I shimmy the blanket a little higher, using it as a protective shield.
“Speak up, girl, no need to be coy.”
“Mr. Holland,” Elizabeth roars. Her tone transitions from warm to ice as a dense pressure glazes over my bed. Either that or this room dropped a few degrees in temperature. Whoever this guy is, she is not a fan. Yep, he’s an asshole.
“It’s okay, Elizabeth, some people weren't born with manners.” Imitating the warm smile she’s been giving me before turning my attention upon him, I repeat, “I asked what’s a fay, but considering how demanding you are, I demand to know why the hell I’m here?
Furthermore, why you insist on being so fucking rude?
My name is Kyra, not girl.” I fold my arms in frustration.
He might be intimidating, but I refuse to be disrespected.
Holland surrenders a booming laugh, shaking my entire bed. His stomach jiggles with each, “ha” as the ceiling’s light reflects against his perfectly bald head.
“Elizabeth, this one has a set of balls.” *Ha* His chortles cease, and he leans into my space with a dominating presence.
“You’re new here and might be unaware of your place.
The next time you speak to me in ‘that’ tone, my demands will become more of a problem.
Learn your place and learn it fast.” His breath smells of warm tobacco and strong coffee.
“Mr. Holland, you should leave. Your presence is no longer welcome.”
I recline, masking the fear creeping through my pores.
“Ensure she is ready within an hour, standing outside the boardroom.” Turning his back, he walks out, slamming the door shut.
My lungs clench, waiting for his footsteps to disperse.
Then I meet Elizabeth’s threatening leer with an expression that begs for an answer.
“I know, he can be a bit much. But if you’re accepted here, avoid him. Whatever the cost. Mr. Holland has retained this grumpiness since the accident. A story for a different day. Let’s see what we can do about that soreness.” She gives her signature smile, lightening the mood.
“Do you think he’d kill me given the chance,” I question, hoping I’m overreacting a bit.
“Indeed, he would. Without so much of a second thought.” She eyes me grimly.
“Well shit.”