“Tell me what I can do to help, and I’ll do it.”
“I need you to be there for her. Be her friend.”
“Anything but that,” I say, shaking my head nervously. “I’m not the right person—”
“You’re exactly the right person.” He pats my arm.
“But she hates me. She told me to get out and leave her alone.”
“Because she’s scared. She came here without her family and she’s afraid to let anyone in.” His face softens. “Reminds me of someone else I know. Now, go say good-bye.”
Is he referring to me? He doesn’t know me.
I knock, but silence greets me as I nudge open her door. I stop behind the hanging sheet, unable to move any farther. “I’m leaving now, but I’ll be back in the morning. Would it be all right if I brought something for you?”
“Whatever,” she says.
I don’t respond as I leave. Sure, we’ll be great friends.
Cole sits on the nurse’s desk with his back toward me. Zeus trots over, licking my hand and bringing a subtle smile to my face.
“Nice to see you too. How was your day?” I wipe the slobber on my pants.
Just as I near the desk, Amber reaches around Cole and covers his eyes.
“Guess who,” she says.
“I don’t know,” he replies with annoyance. He extracts her fingers from his eyes and pulls her around to his front.
“Heard you had a good night… hot stuff.” Her haughty laugh is annoying.
How fake can she be?
He laughs. “Yeah, yeah. Who told you?”
“Your boys. Maybe next time you’ll remember to invite me.” She gives him a coy look while she plays with the large curl of her ponytail.
“Nah.” He punches her arm playfully, and she wraps her arms around his neck.
“You wouldn’t have to pay me,” she says. “For you, I’ll do anything.”
Cole shoves her away and looks angry. “I don’t mind kidding, but now you’re crossing the line. Back off.”
“Just messin’ with you. Lighten up already.” Her eyes meet mine and her air of innocence doesn’t fool me. “But seriously, if you want me to come over, let me know,” she says.
Can she scream “I want to die” any louder? Did she not see the execution?
Cole leads me to the stairway in silence since the elevators malfunctioned halfway through the day. Eight flights down and still nothing’s said between us. Zeus’s nails click on the concrete as we descend, and I’m grateful for the noise.
His hand touches the small of my back when he leads me to the door of the Jeep. I stiffen and he removes it.
“We’re taking the Jeep?” I ask.
“For now. Just get in.” His brusque voice reminds me of how mean he was last night, ordering me around like some lowly servant.
So I lift myself in, holding the door handle, then strap the seatbelt on tight while averting my eyes. All day, I pushed the thought of him, his buddies and the prostitutes out of my mind, but now the memory comes up fresh and sharp. Anger flows through me like a bursting dam.
Why does he act all nice and then treat me like crap? Why does he bother saving my life if he’s going to treat me like trash on the street? He doesn’t make any sense.
He puts the Jeep in drive and we traverse back to our quarters. The entire time I stare at the bleak, colorless monotony that’s become my life. The humid breeze plays with my hair, but it doesn’t bring much relief. I feel Cole’s eyes boring holes into the side of my face and try to ignore it, regardless of how many questions I want to ask.
I’m scared too. I saw the execution the same as he did, but there’s no excuse for being hostile now.
I’ve only been here a week and I’m already exhausted with trying to read his signals and dance around his moods. At times, I want to explode like a bomb or give in to my animalistic instincts like the others.
But my father raised me better. He’d be disappointed if I became what I’ve been labeled. And I won’t give the commander the satisfaction of ruining me.
After Cole retires to his room, I let my hair down, giving my scalp a rest from the ponytail. My long tendrils hang freely over my brand as I stand in front of the mirror.
“Sorry about last night. If I don’t treat you that way when they’re around… they’ll start asking questions. I can’t have them doubting my ability to follow through with my orders.”
His voice startles me and I spin around to face him. His tired eyes meet mine. His face is apologetic. “And when they’re not?” I ask. “What about the camera in my room? Aren’t you worried about them watching you talk to me right now?”
“I’m the one watching you on camera, not them. And from now on, in private, we’ll be civil.”
I nod my head and turn away still feeling uneasy.
“You should be thankful I’m apologizing at all,” he says.
My eyes snap to his in disgust. “I trusted you with my life.”
“And I did my job.”
“So that’s how it’s going to be?” I ask.
“That’s all it can be.”