The image shifted, and I was at the baseball park, four rows behind the Mets’ dugout. I had a hot dog in one hand and a soda in the other, and I was cheering loudly as a homerun went sailing out of the park. Soda sloshed down my arm as I jumped up and down, and I heard the familiar boom of laughter next to me. I turned and saw my dad, a Mets cap on his head. He high fived me and whistled loudly as the stadium exploded in cheers.
In a moment, I was on the back of my pony, Pumpkin. I must have been about six or seven, and I was absolutely terrified of him. He was gentle and calm, but that didn’t stop me from having a near panic attack every time my mother tried to bring me near him. I could feel the power of his body beneath me when I sat on him, even at that age. I knew this was not something to mess with. I felt a strong hand at my back and looked down at my mother. She was smiling at me, speaking words of encouragement, and I felt a sense of relief that she was there.
My mother morphed into Ash, and I wondered if it was possible for your heart to stop beating while you were dreaming. He was smiling down at me, strong and beautiful. He looked like that Ash I had known from months before, free of the scars and the heartbreak. He leaned down toward me, his lips on mine, his hands at the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head. He pressed me up against the wall, trailing soft kisses along my collarbone, leaving me breathless.
I woke up with a start, aching, my fingers folded in a fist, clutching Liam’s shirt tightly. We were lying on the bed together, facing each other. There was a respectful amount of distance between the two of us, and I felt a gush of affection toward the boy that lay across from me. His eyes fluttered open, and I smiled at him. He smiled back and pried my fingers off his shirt.
“Are you okay?” he asked. I nodded and looked over his head to the clock that ticked incessantly above the door. I frowned. “What is it?”
“It’s way past dinner time.” I sat up and looked over at the desk, which was empty of its usual food tray. “Have they not come by with dinner?”
Liam shook his head slowly, his brow furrowed. “Maybe they were waiting…”
“Right,” I said, interrupting him before he could continue. “Well, it’s not happening tonight.” My voice was firm, and Liam raised his eyebrows at me. “Come here, and give me a kiss. That’ll have to be enough for them tonight.”
He laughed, a real laugh, and I felt myself smile back at him. “Okay,” he agreed, sitting up, his hair sticking up on one side. I leaned closer, using my fingers to flatten it down. He froze and looked down at me, and I swallowed hard.
“I’m going to have to give in soon, aren’t I?” I whispered to him. “If I want to survive. If I want Ash to survive.”
He didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. I sighed shakily and stood on my tiptoes for a kiss. Our lips met, and I waited for him to pull away. He always seemed to know how much time was necessary for each kiss, what would keep them happy. He hadn’t pulled away and I found myself responding to him, more so than I had before.
Liam’s arms came up and wrapped around my waist, pulling me against him. His lips pressed harder to me, and I gasped. He pulled back and stared at me for a long moment, his eyes wide. The look in his eyes was pleading, and I found myself falling into it. My hand reached up to his chest. I felt the contours of his body as my hand traveled up his chest, across his collarbone, and came to rest at the back of his neck, where the end of his hair curled. I ran my fingers through it, and he closed his eyes, sighing.
“You’re not helping, Zoey,” he admitted.
I didn’t answer, lifting my other hand to his arm, feeling the muscles underneath my fingertips. I traced the veins, raising the light blond hairs, and smiled slightly at the goose bumps that formed there.
“Zoey…” he warned.
I had no idea what I was doing, except that the dream was so fresh in my mind and his body was pressed right against mine, and I was responding to it. I wanted to touch him. I kissed him nearly every day, and he always kissed me softly, affectionately. He never forced me further. He saw me as a person, as Zoey the girl. Not as Zoey the Eve of Sekhmet, the girl being forced to restart the human race. I was lonely, and my entire body ached for this, ached for love and affection. My hand left his arm and came to the hem of his shirt. My fingers traveled under the hem, against the warm, hard skin of his back.
“Shit,” he said, and his mouth came back down on me again. I gasped and threw myself into the kiss, my hands pressed tight against his back and neck. He kissed me long and hard, pressing his tongue against my lips until my mouth opened and our tongues battled together. I whimpered, and a growl ripped through his body. He lifted me and placed me on the bed. I looked up at him, breathing heavily. “Zoey…”
“Come here,” I said, raising my arms to him. “It’s okay.”
His eyes closed for a moment, and then he came over to me, his body covering mine. I arched toward him, loving the feeling of his hard body against mine. His lips found mine again and we kissed again, over and over again, our soft sighs and moans the only sound in the world.
Liam’s hand came up to my shirt, tugging on the hem and I reached for his hands. He looked up at me, frozen, and I shook my head, pulling the shirt over my head myself. Our faces were both flushed, and my legs went around his waist before I could think about what I was doing.
“Oh, Zoey,” he breathed, his lips grazing the soft skin of my stomach. His lips left a hot searing trail of kisses from my stomach up to my neck and back onto my lips. He moved against me and I felt the pleasure crash through me.
“Liam,” I whispered, my hands reaching for his pants. His hands met mine and together, we pulled his pants off, revealing a plain pair of boxer briefs, tented up. He reached for my own pants, and they joined his on the floor. He came back on top of me, moving himself against me. We were both panting, and I yanked his face back to mine, my kisses desperate and hurried.
His fingers were at the clasp of my bra, and he easily twisted it off. It fell slightly, revealing the top moons of my breasts. He lowered his lips to them, leaving hot kisses on the skin. I felt a moan escape my lips, and my hands went to his hair, my fingers weaved in the strands, as I pulled his head tighter against me.
“Oh, Liam,” I breathed, arching myself closer to him. My eyes fluttered open and closed and fell on the black globe that was affixed to the ceiling above us. My eyes widened. It was like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on me. Liam’s lips were still on me, trailing down my stomach, lower and lower, toward my underwear. I felt a wave of panic shoot through me.
“Stop,” I said, pulling my fingers away from his hair and pushing his shoulders. “Stop.”
Liam looked surprised, and he stumbled back a bit. His face was flushed, his lips full from kissing. I looked down and saw that he was still definitely aroused. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his hand against my bare hip.
I felt tears threatening to spill again, and I hated that I was in this situation, that I was practically naked and that they could see this, all of this. I hated that I was feeling this way, and with the wrong boy. “Just, stop. I don’t want to do this,” I said, my voice coming out breathless and rushed.
He pulled back, his face clouded. He crawled off of me, reaching for his discarded pants, and pulled them up over his hips. I could see that he was still hard and there was a part of me that was turned on by it and wanted to pull him back on the bed with me. He turned away from me, his eyes on everything else in the room, everything but me.
I reached for the blanket, pulling it over me, embarrassed at how little I wore. Without the pressure of his body against mine, the coolness of the room was more apparent and goose bumps rippled across my skin. I shivered. “Liam, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” I said softly, my voice thick with tears.
He sighed, and I realized how exasperated and hurt he really was. “Zoey,” his voice coming out like a bark, a warning.
“You’re great, Liam, and I like you…I like you a lot,” I said, feeling like it was
not coming out right. It was coming out all wrong. “But, you’re not… you’re not him.” My body was still tingling but it wasn’t the same. What I had felt with Liam was the flame of a candle, warm and comforting. When I had kissed Ash on my kitchen counter, it had been a forest fire, threatening to burn down everything in its wake.
Liam’s eyes met mine and my bottom lip trembled. He sighed again, but it wasn’t angry anymore. It was more resigned. The door opened and Patrick reappeared, looking both amused and frustrated. I wondered who was behind the cameras and how much anyone had seen of what had just taken place between Liam and I. “Let’s go,” he snapped at Liam.
I pulled the covers up higher, trying to cover everything. “Liam…”
He was halfway out the door but he stopped and looked over at me. My words failed, getting stuck in my throat. I wasn’t even sure what to say to him anymore. How many times could one person apologize?
Instead he spoke up. “It’s going to be okay, Zoey. I promise.” The door shut heavily behind him, and I was left alone once more.
AS SOON AS THEY HAD left, I crawled out of my bed, refusing to look toward the ceiling. I took a long cold shower, shivering under the biting water, washing away the feel of his lips on my body. I stayed in there for at least an hour before climbing out and wrapping myself in a towel.
I lay on the floor, wrapped in my towel. I wasn’t sure how long I stayed there but long enough that my hair was starting to dry, the ends curling. I picked myself off the floor and slid into some clean clothes. I spared the camera one last loathing look before crawling into bed and falling asleep.
I woke with a start in the morning, with a hand pressed tightly against my mouth. My eyes flew open in panic, and I reached for the hand, trying to pry it off. My legs kicked, and I heard a low “oof” as I made contact. The hand on my mouth loosened, and I opened my mouth to scream.
“Jesus, Zoey, shut up for a second.” The voice was low, rough and full of pain. I was satisfied to know I had caused actual pain. “I’m trying to help you, okay?”
My body grew still, and I blinked in the relative darkness. I could just barely make out the features of the person perched on the bed, and for a moment, I couldn’t believe my eyes. “Tommy?” I whispered.
“Yeah,” he answered. His hand was pressed tightly against his stomach. “Did you have to kick so hard?”
“What the hell are you doing?” I answered, ignoring his question. I sat up, running a hand through my hair. I looked up at the camera and back down at him.
He shook his head. “It’s not on. None of them are. They malfunction sometimes; it’s normal, so no one will suspect I did it on purpose. It’ll give us at least fifteen minutes of privacy.”
Things were not making sense to me. “Why do you need…” I started, as a horrible thought occurred to me. “Oh god, please don’t touch me.”
He threw me a scathing look, and for some reason, I was comforted by it. It was a look I had grown used to with Tommy, and it was familiar. “Jesus, Zoey,” he repeated. “I’m not going to touch you. I’m here to help you.”
I stared at him warily. “Help me? Help me how?”
Tommy glanced upward at the camera and then at his watch. He sighed. “Your boy came to me, okay? He asked me to help you get out, and so that’s what I’m going to do.”
“You’re…you’re going to help me get out?” I stuttered. “But why?”
He seemed to think about it for a moment, taking time to ponder his answer. “Well, I guess…I guess because I like you.”
I leaned away from him, my wariness of him growing even more. “Oh,” was all I said.
I could barely see him roll his eyes in the darkness. I had just noticed that the light was on the bathroom, lending us enough light to see each other but not to cause any alarm to anyone who might pass through. “Not like that, Zoey. Not everyone is groveling at your feet.”
“Shut up,” was all I answered. I sat up straighter. “You’re going to help me. You’re going to help me get out of Sekhmet. How the hell are you going to do that?” my voice grew louder with each question, and I saw him flinch.
“Keep your voice down,” he hissed at me, his arms coming out to grab my wrists. “Do you want the whole compound to hear you?”
“Sorry,” I said, looking down at my wrists. His hands were huge, and wrapped around both wrists with no trouble. It was weird how I was noticing things about him now, in the darkness, that I had never known in the light, when he had escorted me everywhere, for days.
“Did anyone ever tell you that you’re ridiculously loud?” he asked. He didn’t make it sound like a compliment.
“You were saying about getting me out of here?” I reminded him.
His eyes flicked down to the watch at his wrist again. “Right. We’re going to get you out of here. It’s not going to be easy. They’re watching you like crazy. I can assist, get you a keycard, that sort of thing, but a lot of it is going to be on you.”
I nodded, immediately caught up in this. I hadn’t even heard the plan but the direction he was going in made it sound dangerous and impossible. Dangerous and impossible sounded so much better than staying here and waiting for them to force me to have children. “Tommy, I’m ready to do anything. I don’t want to be here.”
He nodded again, looking nervously at his watch. “We’ll talk about it when I come later to escort you to see Liam. There are cameras, but they don’t pick up sound. I’ll stand at the door, where the cameras won’t catch me, so they won’t be able to see me talking to you. We’ll figure it out, okay?” He stood up, smoothing out the invisible wrinkles of his pants. “I have to go.”
“Okay,” I said, pulling my legs up and resting my chin on his knees. “Wait, Tommy?” He paused, looking back at me. “Liam asked you to do this?”
He nodded and, saying nothing more, left the room.
I went through the motions on autopilot, my mind stuck on the possibility of finding a way out of here. Hopefully we could figure out a way to get a keycard into my hand, and then I could be free, free to make my way to Sanctuary or anywhere that wasn’t here.
A face came flashing into my brain and I stumbled, tripping on the conveyor belt of the treadmill. I fell and immediately felt it scrape my knee. The doctor surveying me immediately pressed the stop button on the treadmill, watching me carefully as I lifted myself up, shaking.
Ash. Ash was still here. I had to believe that he was still here and that this plan included him as well.
As soon as Tommy escorted me to the small room after lunch, I turned to Liam. He had beaten me to the room and I wondered if that had been done on purpose, in order to prevent Patrick from staying in the room as well. “Ash,” I said firmly. “Is Ash going to get out too?”
I saw Liam and Tommy exchange knowing looks, and I felt my heart sink. “No,” I said. “I won’t leave without him.”
Liam stood up, coming over to comfort me. I pushed his arms away, glaring up at him. “Zoey, we don’t even know if he’s alive.”
I looked at Tommy, who looked tired. There were bags under his eyes and I wondered if he had gotten any sleep the night before. “I don’t know, to be honest,” he admitted. “They say he is. Dr. Cylon says he is and that we’re to mention him any time you don’t feel like cooperating. But no one has actually seen him in weeks, Zoey.”
My head began to shake back and forth, repeatedly. “He’s here. I know he is. If you’re getting me out, you’re getting him out too.”
Leaning up against the door just out of sight of the camera, Tommy sighed, exasperated. “We’re risking so much just to get you out of here. We can’t risk it anymore to rescue someone we don’t even know is here.”
“What about Liam?” I shot back.
They exchanged another look, and Liam spoke up. “This plan is for you, Zoey. That’s it.”
They were both looking at me, with firm looks on their faces. I saw the pity in their eyes, and I turned away, unable to look at them. The
y were asking me to leave the one person that I had left in the world, who would probably be killed if I left. I suddenly felt unsure in the idea of escaping.
“Zoey,” Liam warned. I looked up at him shocked; surprised that with so little time spent together, he had already begun to recognize my facial expressions. “Don’t even think about it. We’re getting you out of here. Maybe, if we find out more information, we can get Ash out too. But for now, we’re focusing on you.”
I swallowed hard, pushing down the tears that were threatening to crawl up and take over. “Fine,” I agreed. I crossed the room and sat in the chair across from Liam. “What are we going to do?”
MY BREAKFAST CAME ON THE same tray that it normally did in the morning. Tommy walked into the room, setting it down on the desk. His moves were jerky and unsure, and I wanted to throw something at him. Everything about what he was doing just screamed that something was wrong. His eyes met mine, and I tried to tell him to calm down, in one look. His head dipped slightly, in a barely perspective nod.
I waited until he left the room before lifting myself off the bed and crossing to the desk. I slid into the chair and ate my breakfast slowly. Each bite felt like cardboard in my mouth, but I forced myself through it, trying to ignore the bubbling of anxiety in my stomach. I ran my fingers along the edge of the silver tray and stopped when I felt something sharp poke the tip of my finger. Just a tiny bit of hard, black plastic was poking out, and I knew immediately that the first part of the plan had been successful.
The Awakened Page 26
