Sutton exhales in frustration. “He’s a good man and an outstanding guard, probably the best one here. But he’s got some difficult decisions ahead. So do you. But he can’t afford to have anything clouding his mind. If you risk it, you’re going to kill him.”
“Nothing’s going on.” I swallow the dryness in my throat and clench my teeth. What am I thinking, allowing myself these feelings when they can’t go anywhere? Sutton brings me back to Earth like my father used to, and just like in the past, I weigh each of his words individually, fighting a battle between heart and mind.
“Good. Keep it that way. I have to go now,” Sutton says, breaking into my inner monologue.
“Thanks for everything. See you in a few days.” I speak loud so Cole hears.
Sutton stands, wraps his coat around his shoulders, and grabs his bag as he turns to leave. His eyes lock onto mine with intensity. “Remember what I said. He’ll be forced to choose a side.”
I nod. It requires some effort since a million thoughts run rampant through my brain.
Suddenly, the bathroom door bangs open, and Cole stumbles out while pulling on his tall boots. He clunks to the door and puts his arm out for Sutton. “Thank you. We’re indebted to you. Forever.” Cole smiles and squeezes his arm as Sutton frowns.
What was that? “We” are indebted? He makes it sound like we are together. That’s not good. Not good at all. Why doesn’t he just ask for Wilson to come and lop off our heads now? But we’re not together. Nothing has happened and nothing can happen. I won’t be the reason Cole gets killed.
“Be safe,” Sutton says.
“See ya,” I squeak out.
He shakes Cole’s hand, eyes me with warning again, and closes the door.
“Man, he was in and out fast,” Cole says. “I even brought him a bagel.”
“He’s got lots of patients to tend to. You know, all the shooting victims.” I push for a response.
He looks at me like I shouldn’t know what’s going on out there. His mouth moves like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. He slowly walks over to his safe, pulls out his pistols, and shoves them into his holsters one at a time. A knock interrupts the awkwardness.
Cole answers, opening the door slowly to find Bruno standing outside, looking droopy from the wet weather. He lifts the hood over his head and smiles.
“Morning, buddy.”
“Yeah, yeah, come in,” Cole says.
Bruno pushes past him and removes his wet poncho, placing it over a chair at the table. “What’s for breakfast? Or more importantly, how’s it taste?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t had time to eat,” Cole says. He pulls on an overcoat and double-checks the room to make sure he doesn’t forget anything. In the meantime, Bruno nods his head my direction.
“Hey, I hope you’re ready for another titillating day standing outside my door,” I say with sarcasm.
He smiles his big, contagious smile. “As always, I’m ready for hours of excitement.”
Cole looks at him, at me, and then back at him. He puts his hand on Bruno’s shoulder. “I hope your day isn’t too exciting. I don’t want to have to beat your ass when I get back.” He claps his hand jovially on Bruno’s shoulder as he speaks, but I sense the threat behind it.
“No fun, I promise. Just complete boredom.” Bruno grins and steals a glance at me.
Cole calls Zeus and they’re out the door. He doesn’t even bother saying good-bye. A feeling of emptiness comes over me and I can’t take another day in my room, staring at the walls. I’ve got to do something purposeful.
Before Bruno steps out into the hallway, I stop him. “Hey, I have an idea.”
Bruno turns his head toward me, squinting his eyes with suspicion.
“I don’t want to cause any trouble, but I have a favor to ask.”
“Great, this should be good. What is it?” He tilts his head, his arms folding across his massive chest. “And as long as it won’t piss off Cole.” His tone indicates I’m Cole’s property. That aggravates me, so I take a deep, cleansing breath.
“It’s nothing like that. It’s just—I’ve been in so many bad situations. Wrong place, wrong time type things, and wondered if you’d show me the basics of self-defense. I hate not knowing how to protect myself… especially if something happens to one of you.” The words fall out, pleading and hopeful as I try to read his expression. “Leaving me helpless is cruel, don’t you think?”
He hesitates and, noting my bruises, seems resigned to do it. “I guess you’ve got a point. All right, I’ll help you.”
“It’s always so loud in here. No one will notice the noise… Plus, there’s no harm in teaching a weak, recovering female a few things, is there?” I do my best to look as downtrodden as possible.
His eyes rest on the dark bruises that pattern my upper arms. The handprints are obvious from where the guard held me down—they’re taking the longest to fade. Looking at them infuriates me, but watching his expression change to one of solemn anger helps assure me he’s one of the “good” guards. He takes off his Glocks and lays them on the counter after removing the clips.
I stand and face opposite him, hands hanging at my sides.