Chapter 21
Falling Into Routine
JESSICA
EIGHT YEARS AGO:
Emerald Pack Clinic
The guards and I adopt a comfortable routine.
Ean visits in the morning and takes me for a walk around the training facility.
Then, I meet Anders in his office, where I sit with him for a couple of hours.
If a situation happens and needs his attention, I curl up in one of his chairs and read the journals of the original head guard.
I take his other books to the clinic and pore over them every night.
Charlie picks me up at Anders’s office to walk me to my room.
The first time he stays with me, he brings his guitar and sings.
I become mesmerized by how he moves his fingers over the strings and simultaneously fingers the keys, intrigued by the coordination required to strum, change notes, and sing simultaneously.
The music causes the pain in my body to subside.
My heart doesn’t ache. My nerve endings don’t jump.
I feel safe. When I close my eyes, I feel whole again, alive—not broken, scarred, and stuck in a clinic room.
After a few songs, I ask Charlie to teach me how to play.
Giving me his flirty smile, he obliges, and now, he teaches me every day.
Sodie visits in the evenings. He teaches me how to play poker, trumps, and blackjack. He promises that once I improve, he will show me how to gamble. I think about playing cards with the twins and test my ability to beat them at some of these games.
Liam takes the night shift. He enters with that same pinched expression.
He sits in the corner of the room at an angle, where he can see both my bed and the door, all night reading, never once checking on or speaking to me.
He never uses the bathroom, takes a walk, or moves just for a break.
Sometimes, when I’m sure he isn’t watching, I study him over the pages of my book.
When contemplating his own reading, he rubs his lower lip or plays with the diamond stud in his left ear.
He sighs and runs his long fingers through his hair when he seems frustrated.
Occasionally, his mouth twitches, trying to prevent a smile.
I can’t help but wonder if he silently studies me, too.
The heat of a blush rises from my chest to my cheeks so I bury my face in the page. If he even notices me at all.
Maybe because of silence at night, I can’t help longing for the twins. Usually, by now, they fall asleep over their textbooks or recline nearby, snoring. Although I appreciate the quiet, especially whenever they’re around, I miss the chaos. I miss them.
A dull ache throbs in the middle of my back as I sit in my clinic bed.
I set my book down to stretch and twist, but the twinge remains.
It doesn’t move. I assess whether I have pain anywhere else.
It’s so hard to tell. My body hurts all the time.
This ache is new… and persistent. Ignoring it for now—it’s tolerable—I return to reading.
Leaning back against my pillow, I stare out the window. The sky lightened, indicating early morning, but a dreary grayness looms. A light drizzle starts, reflecting my mood.
“Hey. You feeling okay?” Liam asks.
I forgot he still sat in the corner. I perform a quick internal check. Yep, all the everyday aches and pains are present and accounted for, especially in my back. I contemplate that dull ache—it’s not worse, just still there. I shrug it off, pushing myself to the edge of the bed, and nod.
Liam looks at me, running his index finger below his lower lip.
Heat creeps into my cheeks. I turn my head and continue to stare out the window.
Right on schedule, Ean arrives, breaking me out of my reflection. I welcome the distraction. “You ready to start your day with all this awesomeness?”
I glance first at Liam, who frowns while still studying me, and then watch Ean walk into the room with his usual smile.
“Alright. You know the routine. Breakfast first, and then we can get you out of here.” Ean places a cup of my meal replacement shake in front of me.
The sight of it makes me want to puke. In fact, I don’t think I finished the one from last night.
The cup sits on my nightstand… empty. Huh?
I don’t remember finishing it. I turn toward Liam, but he already left. Did he drink it?
Shifting back to eat my “breakfast,” a sharp pain rips through me, forcing me to lean forward. I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment and open them slowly as the pain fades to a dull ache.
“Everything okay?” Ean asks with concern.
I nod, lift my shake, and drink it as fast as possible. A change of scenery will help with my mood and my pain.
We don’t take our usual path this time. Ean speaks, but I don’t listen today. My stomach hurts, and nausea threatens to take hold. I probably drank my shake too fast, so I just breathe and ignore it.
Using my surroundings as a distraction, I glimpse Liam leaving a building. With a book in one hand, he casually strides onto the grassy area, likely heading toward the dorms. A group of three guys exit the building after him, walking faster.
One of them shouts, “Hey, Fitzpatrick. I’m not done talking to you!” Liam maintains his casual pace, not even glancing back to acknowledge the guy.
The other two increase their pace. The one with curly, dirty-blond hair knocks the book out of his hand and sneers, “You think you’re better than the rest of us just because you got the VIP assignment.”
Liam stops walking, only to pick up his book from the ground.
I grip Ean by the shirt and point at Liam. He shakes his head. “This is the way things are. If he’s going to be a guard, he needs to learn to stand up for himself.” Facing the group, Ean crosses his arms over his chest and watches. I mimic Ean’s stance and fold my arms over my middle.
All three guys now surround Liam. The one who shouted first runs a hand through his dark brown hair. He is slightly bigger than Liam, but I can’t see his face. “You know what I think? I think you have a thing for her. I hear she looks like a boy,” the guy with the dark brown hair taunts.
Liam doesn’t respond. He pushes past the guys. The third guy, the silent one, wears a hat. His build is similar to Ean’s, but he isn’t anywhere as tall. He grabs Liam by the shoulder and forces him to face his friend.
“I bet it must bring back some great memories. Doesn’t it?” The dark-brown-haired guy steps closer to Liam. The curly-haired one whacks the book out of Liam’s hand again. “Maybe I should pay her a visit and show her what a real man can do.”
Liam yanks his shoulder away from Hat Guy and walks away.
“Come on. Fight me! I know you want to.”
Liam retrieves his book for a second time. They won’t leave him alone. Two of them snatch him from behind and hold his arms down.
The ringleader cocks his arm back to hit Liam, and I tug on Ean’s shirt.
Stop them. Stop them please! Thunderclaps and dark clouds roll in overhead.
Ean, stop them!! It’s three against one.
This isn’t right! I motion with my hands, but my efforts are futile.
If he won’t do anything, I will. Pushing away from him, I take three steps before Ean drags me back by my hoodie.
“It’s okay, Little One. Watch.” Thunder claps again. My heartbeat races. When I turn back to the fight, Liam somehow manages to release himself from their hold. I watch in frustration as all three guys punch, hit, and seize Liam.
He blocks each kick, each punch, and strikes back.
Liam puts one of the attackers on the ground and lands two punches to his face when another jumps him from behind.
Liam rolls out of the way just in time, jumps up and kicks him in the face.
He clutches the one who started this whole ordeal by the throat and mercilessly hits him again and again.
Blood spews everywhere, and an image flashes in my mind. I no longer watch Liam hit his opponent but rather see myself receiving blows to the face. In slow motion, a fist punches me, and someone—a teenager with brown hair, not much younger than these guys—yells, “I fucking hate you!”
Stop! I scream in my head as lightning streaks through the sky. Liam halts mid-hit and turns toward me. I stare back. Please, stop!
He looks down at the guy in his grips, leans forward, and, with a snarled expression, grounds out, “If you go near her, I will rip your fucking head off!” He releases his grip, and the guy flops to the ground.
Liam strides over to his book lying open in the dirt, picks it up, and walks away for a final time.
All three attackers lie in a bloody heap. My stomach curls, and nausea upheaves my insides. I scurry to the nearest bush and lose all of my stomach contents.
Ean pats my back. “Whoa, there, Little One. I think I should get you back to the clinic. Too much excitement for the morning.”
Still dry heaving, I shake my head. Another streak of lightning flashes in the sky, followed by a crack of thunder.
Anders isn’t happy with me. His pinched expression stares straight ahead. Even though he is busy and needs to follow up with Liam, he insists on escorting me to the clinic. He finally glances over and asks, “What was it about the fight that made you sick?”
I replay the whole fight in my head, the flashback I saw, and the look on Liam’s face as he hit the other recruit.
Anders abruptly stops and meets my eye directly. “Do that again.” Confused by his request, I shrug. He claims, “It was like watching a movie. Replay that whole incident in your mind again, especially that flashback of the person hitting you. I want you to hold that memory.”
It’s no use. I never see faces. Even if in my line of vision, it’s too blurry or distorted by shadows.