“That was strange,” I say.
“I thought so too. Something’s not right.” Cole pulls me to him and hugs me. “But at least you’re safe—that’s all I care about.”
“I hope our rooms are close.” I kiss his lips once, then twice. My hormones race and all I want to do is be with him.
“Yeah, um, I’m still here—standing right next to you,” Bruno says.
I laugh as Cole loosens his hands around my waist and then I see seriousness in his eyes. “I don’t know if we can trust Keegan yet… I think we should hold off on telling him.”
“It’s not hard to guess. I’d be willing to bet he already knows,” Bruno says with sarcasm.
I step away from Cole, feeling hesitant. Just in time too, because the door opens and Steven beckons us to follow him to the showers and our rooms.
My room is small and plain like Keegan’s. A lamp hangs on a hook in the wall and a cot protrudes from the right side of the room with a large wool blanket folded on the end. On the left side, I notice a tall chest where I can put my clothes, which I don’t have.
The showers are at the end of the hall. One entrance is for the men and one for the women. We’re limited to five minutes, but it’s the best five minutes I’ve had in days. The warm water running down my skin melts away the goose bumps.
Someone sets rugged clothes for me to wear on the sink for afterward. I pull on olive-colored cargo pants, thick wool socks, and a tight cotton T-shirt. I fluff my curls and put my ring back on. I peek out the door.
“Wow. You look incredible,” Cole says.
I jump back, hitting the back of my head on the tiles.
“You all right?” He laughs as he leans against the wall in the dimly lit hallway. His plain T-shirt matches mine, but he has black cargo pants. It doesn’t take much for him to drive me insane.
“Yes.” I rub the back of my head furiously. “And thanks. You’re not too shabby yourself.”
He pinches my cheek and gives me a smile that melts my insides. I love how he looks dressed, but I wish I had time to undress him too.
“A pair of shoes would be nice, although I’ve been wearing those worthless slippers for so long I think my feet are permanently flat,” I say while showing him my stocking feet.
“I’m pretty sure these might help,” Keegan interrupts, giving Cole a dirty look. “Here, these are the best I could do.” He hands me a sturdy pair of black leather lace-up boots. “Hand me your scrubs. We can rip them and use them as rags.”
“Oh, by all means! Please take them.” I slide my feet into the boots and lace them up. “They’re perfect! My feet thank you.”
“You’re still weird, you know that?” He grins while shaking his head.
“Yup,” I say.
“They’re pretty durable and they have steel toes, which you’ll find useful.”
I look at my new boots with pride and then glance up at him. His face fluctuates between anger and fear.
“Really—how?” I ask.
He turns away from me with agitation. “Just go lie down and get some sleep. We’ve got a strict schedule to keep and you’ll start training in the morning.”
“Training?”
“If you’re living here, then you adhere to the rules. Make yourself useful. Train with us, eat with us, and so on.”
“Should we train while we’re here?” Cole asks.
“No need. I’d expect you’ve had enough.” Keegan’s stiff posture and authoritative voice give me the impression that he doesn’t want us to ask any more questions. “Why don’t you get some rest? You’ll need it.” Keegan steers me toward my door, signaling the end of the conversation. And truthfully, I am tired. I haven’t slept in almost forty-eight hours. I just wish I could have Cole’s arms wrapped around me while I sleep. But the Sandman comes and my eyelids drop with ease.
*
I search for Cole and see him in the corner with a knife pressed against his throat. A man dressed in all black emerges from the shadows.
“Don’t move an inch or I’ll slice him to shreds right now,” he shouts at me.
My fingers flex around the trigger, ready to pull.
“Drop the gun!” The tip of his knife jabs into Cole’s throat as he clenches his jaw. “Don’t move!” he commands.
Cole’s jaw shakes and a growl escapes his lips. He swallows hard as blood trickles onto his chest.
I freeze in place, lower my gun to the floor, and slowly raise both hands in the air for him to see without breaking eye contact.
“What do you want?” I ask.
“His life,” he says in a detached, icy voice. He starts to press the knife deeper into Cole’s skin, cutting into the muscle. Panic chokes me.
“NO! NO! NO! Kill me! Not him. I’m begging you. Take me instead,” I plead.