He pulls my opposite hand closer to his face, turning it around and watching the light reflect off the gold. “Why the hell are you wearing it on your left hand? I swear to God, if you’re married I’m going to kick your ass. I’m not joking.”
I pull my hand away, take off the ring, and place it on my right hand. “No, I’m not married. I was rushing around this morning and I must’ve put it on the wrong hand. It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve done it.”
I hate lying. It reminds me of my stepfather, but I don’t know if he’s ready to hear the full truth about Cole and me.
“They would’ve taken it from you. How’d you manage to get it back?” He glares at me.
“They didn’t take it. They never found it. Just don’t ask me where I hid it, all right?”
He winces in disgust. “Oh, no you didn’t. Wow, that’s—” He shakes his head with disgust.
“Eww, enough. Please, can we talk about something else—anything,” I say. I hear him laugh under his breath before he speaks.
“I must say, you have great critical thinking skills.”
“Keegan!”
“All right. I’m sorry.”
“Here… I’ll change the subject. Life in the Hole, it’s glamorous, isn’t it? I especially love the food.” I roll my eyes with sarcasm and he laughs again.
“Crap, that reminds me. You’re probably starving, right?” A mischievous glint sparks in his eyes.
I sigh, relieved I don’t have to explain that Cole gave me the ring back. That Cole’s amazing, loyal, and I’m in love with him.
“Hey, did you hear me?” Keegan asks again.
“Uh, yeah sure, food sounds great.”
“Okay, and while we’re at it, I’m going to see if I can find you a pair of boots. No offense, but your feet reek!” He stands and pulls me up after him.
Keegan leads me down one dank hallway after another. The maze that makes up his hideout must’ve taken years to build. Each passage looks and feels the same with metal bars climbing up the walls, the musty smell, and the constant dripping of water from pipes above.
My feet sting with cold, but knowing I’m safe brings comfort I haven’t experienced in years. Keegan stops and slides open a black gate and continues down the hall. Then he swings a left and opens a large, heavy door. I wonder what Bruno, Cole, and Zeus are doing while we traipse around?
Just then, the door creaks open and I’m blinded by lights and noise. He holds it and motions for me to go in first.
The room opens up into a large area where people sit, eating from trays at their tables. Dirt doesn’t cover these walls. They’re all cement with white paint slapped over top. The fluorescent lights hang in rows over each table, making the room the lightest I’ve seen. Around the right side is an area where the people fill their trays with meat, potatoes, and vegetables. The smell wafts to my nose, making my stomach grumble with desire. I haven’t eaten a decent meal in ages. I have to restrain myself from sprinting to the line and filling my plate until it spills over in heaps, but then my eyes catch the black, bold words painted along the back wall of the cafeteria.
Humans will not be a form of entertainment. And remember, my brave friends, you can overcome anything short of death—so free them.
—C. Hamilton
My mouth drops open and my eyes begin to water. My heart wells with pride. The words are those of my father. I twist my ring around my finger, drawing strength from the inscription and feeling his presence with me.
“Sutton had someone paint it years ago. It’s our daily inspiration.”
“It’s incredible. I love it. Just wish Dad were here to see it.” I wipe a tear away, but although I’m crying, I feel hope spring up within me. Everything makes sense now—the personal guard attached to me from the beginning, Sutton’s hiring me at the hospital when I had no experience at all, and Wilson’s harassment. My family’s been involved with the revolt for much longer than I ever knew.
“I know. Me too. Come on. We’ll talk more later, but for now, you need to eat.” Keegan loops his arm through mine and gently pulls me in the direction of the line. He yells greetings to several people as he parades me through the room. People seem generally happy to see him and they even smile at me too.
Most of them have brands. They’re many colors, and sizes, but they eat together like family. They even joke around as if they have no cares. Children weave their way through the lines and dodge trays as they play tag.
I spot Cole and Bruno sitting at a table, gorging themselves. The sight of Zeus hovering over Cole’s plate makes me laugh out loud. His slobber drips onto Cole’s forearm, and I can see Cole’s face wrinkle with disgust.
“Come on, Zeus!” Cole complains. He pushes Zeus’s head away, but not before Zeus grabs a pork chop off his plate and drags it onto the floor.
“Dude, the dog’s gotta eat too,” Bruno says with a huge smile.