“You should show him the drawing of Alyssa. It’s amazing, really. It looks just like her,” Cole interjects.
Sutton gives him an unhappy look and then returns his face to mine. “So, besides disobeying my orders, how are you?” He pulls a small light out of his bag and examines my eyes.
“Pretty good, actually. I’m able to move all my body parts without wanting to pass out, which makes me happy. This may sound funny, but I think I’m more flexible now.” Maybe that wasn’t the best choice of words. Lexi, you’re such a moron!
“Interesting, let me take a look at your wound.” He puts on a pair of rubber gloves after washing his hands. He touches the back of my head where the gash was. It’s still sore but not as tender. “It’s healed up nicely. Let’s get rid of those staples.” He digs through the bag and shows me a small piece of equipment that looks like a pair of scissors with claws on the end.
“Will this hurt?” I ask.
“It’s not a pleasant experience, but you’ve been through worse. Trust me.” He bends my head down, tilting it into the light.
A click of the contraption, followed by Sutton’s strong pull, leaves me with a sharp burning pain each time he pulls out a staple. I count as I hear each one clink into a metal pan. The pain only lasts a few seconds after the staple is pulled out, so I endure it without biting off my lip. Twenty-six staples? Are you kidding me?
“At least you took care of your head,” Sutton says.
I place my hand on the back of my head, running my finger down my scar. “Holy crap! You shaved the back of my head for that wimpy scar? That’s pathetic!”
He takes my hand, moving it over a little to the left.
“Ahh! It’s huge! How didn’t I notice before? It’s the size of a—”
“Five inches in length and one inch in width,” Cole says. “I measured it when I helped wash your—”
“When can I go back to work?” I blurt out to change the subject. I give Cole the drop-dead look that my mother perfected in her last few years, so he seals his mouth and decides to go get some food.
“Be right back,” he says.
Sutton watches Cole leave and answers me in a grim voice. “As soon as your bruises fade. We can’t have anyone questioning why you look like hell. This is never to be talked about again. Ever. Do you understand me?”
His change of manner alarms me and something doesn’t feel right. His posture radiates tension and the tightness in his voice seems out of character for him.
“Then tell me what’s going on,” I say.
He fixes his glasses and meets my eyes with a drawn-out sigh. “It’s horrific. I’ve never seen it this bad. Just when I think it can’t get any worse, the violence escalates. If you walk the wrong way, they blow off your head. Gang fights are constant, sending victims by the dozens to the hospital, and we have limited staff.” He avoids my eyes. “I’m not pushing what happened to you under the rug. Please try to understand. They’d murder you. And I know you’d agree we need to protect those who saved you.”
I nod. Of course, I’d never want anything to happen to them. Cole, Zeus, and Sutton are all I have.
“What’s causing it? I mean, it’s always been violent and ugly, so what’s going on?”
He puts his hands on his head and struggles for an explanation. “I shouldn’t tell you.”
“Yeah, I figured,” I say. “I swear, I won’t say a word about it—to anyone.”
“I know you wouldn’t—it’s not the sinners fighting each other. It’s the sinners fighting the guards. Talk of the uprising has surfaced. It’s scattered and unorganized, but it’s happening nonetheless.”
I don’t know how to respond, so he continues in a whisper. “The commander knows something’s up, and that brings me to my next point…”
I swing my head up to meet his eyes.
“If there’s anything, and I mean anything, going on between the two of you, it needs to stop. I will not allow either of you to be tortured and executed over a crush and raging hormones.”
His words hang in the air, making me uncomfortable. I want to deny my feelings outright, but I can’t, so I squeeze my lips together. The silence says it all, and he knows it.
Just then, the door beeps and Cole struts in whistling while holding a brown paper bag. “I grabbed some bagels. Want one?” As he focuses on our faces, he raises an eyebrow. “Uh, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. Go ahead and finish. I’ll just get cleaned up.” He goes into the bathroom and shuts the door. Next thing, I hear the shower running.