I decide now might be a good time to kiss him, so maybe he’ll forget that I still haven’t told him why I was at the SGF. My lips find his, and I bite down gently on his lower lip. It seems to work at first, but then he pulls away.
“That’s not gonna work this time. Would you please tell me what the hell is going on?” His eyes are confused, distrusting.
I stare at him as I search for the words to say. His arms float away from my body, and he swims to the side before climbing out, pulling on his jeans, and dropping to the ground. Lying back, he rests his hands behind his head and stares at the sky.
I tread water for a few more minutes because I’m scared to get out and face him. What will he think when he realizes I went behind his back and asked the son of Harlow Ryder for help? Correction, I didn’t ask Zane—he offered. But I didn’t say no.
And why should I? This is my mother’s life we’re talking about. If I have to beg a dozen guys for help, it shouldn’t matter, right?
I take a deep breath and swim to the side, determined to tell him everything.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
As I climb out, I debate whether I should struggle back into my jeans, or let myself air dry. Deciding on the second option, I take a seat next to Trey and study my hands as I search for the words I need to say.
“The truth is,” I start, “I was with Zane Ryder at the government building today.”
Trey sits up on one elbow and stares at me. “You know that prick?”
I nod. “But he’s actually a really nice guy—” I stop myself when I see the look on Trey’s face. Murderous. “And he doesn’t know anything about what his father is doing to the inmates,” I quickly add.
“Why were you with him?” he snaps.
“He offered to help me get my mother back.” It sounds lame. This isn’t coming out right. I bite the inside of my cheek.
Trey looks like he’s about to say something, but he stops himself. He takes a deep breath. “That doesn’t explain the scar.”
“I know. But I think I have to go all the way back to the beginning in order for you to understand.”
“I’m listening.” His voice is so cool that it makes my stomach churn.
I exhale and prepare to take him back to the night that changed everything. The night I broke into the Match 360 facility.
But wait, it started way before that. I started selling my soul long before the break-in. So, instead, I go back to the night I found my father dead on the kitchen floor.
I tell Trey everything. How I found my father, my meeting with the Devil, my father’s connection to Penelope Ryder and his identity change, and Radcliffe’s revelation that Harlow murdered my father.
Trey leans back on his elbows, his shoulder muscles bulging. “Why would your father fake his death and change his name?”
“Exactly. Why would he do that? I’m almost wondering if there’s more to Penelope’s death than we realize.”
“I wish my father were around so I could ask him. Of anyone, he would know.”
Shaking my head, I offer a small smile. “That’s not entirely true. There’s one other person who probably knows more than anyone else.”
“Harlow,” Trey says. When I nod, he continues. “Maybe we need to pay him a visit tomorrow. I can think of some ways to get him to talk.”
My mind flits to Zane and what he’ll think if I storm his home with my Fringe companions and hold a gun to his father’s head. I’ll have to think about that one.
I tell Trey about Radcliffe’s hit on Harlow Ryder. And how I met Zane at the celebratory ball—purposefully leaving out that I’d met him twice before.
“So, he’s a friend,” I explain. “Or was,” I correct myself.
“But why would Radcliffe want Harlow dead if he’s working with him on these experiments?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. I haven’t been able to figure it out.”
Which leads to the explanation of why I was at the SGF, my mother’s strange behavior, and Zane walking out with the serum.
“So, you’re telling me this Zane guy has some type of serum that regenerates cells so quickly that you watched your skin heal?”
I nod. “It was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Trey reaches for my arm and runs his fingers over the smooth skin. “Incredible,” he says. “No wonder the government is dying to get their hands on it.”
“But that’s what doesn’t make sense. Why agree to an exchange if they claim my mother has been working for them the whole time? Why the charade?”
Trey bites his lower lip while he thinks. “Maybe they just wanted to see it? To confirm?”
Anger wells inside as I think of Radcliffe using the serum on the facial scars I gave him. Is it possible he tricked us into coming just so he could get his hands on the serum? Of course. With that man, anything is possible.
I tell Trey about Radcliffe “testing” the serum on my handiwork.
“Why does it feel like that man is always one step ahead?”
“Because he is,” I say. But his actions in the SGF confuse me. Why didn’t he take me down when he had the chance? And what did he do to my mother?
I have a feeling Radcliffe knows more about my father’s fake death than he’s letting on. Because there’s one thing I’ve realized about men like Radcliffe—the only thing that comes out of their mouths is lies.
Trey stares at me for a long moment. “I want to help you. I do. But you have to promise me something.”
“What?”
“Promise me you won’t go off by yourself again.” His face is serious. “You do realize that every time you leave the Compound alone, you not only put yourself in danger, but you also put the rest of us in danger as well?”
I bite my lip. “I know, and I’m sorry. I just—” I take a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”
His eyes soften. “I worry about you. Just promise me you won’t do it again.”
“I promise.”
Trey pulls me to him. “We’ll figure this out. We’ll get your mom back. I swear.”
It gives me great comfort to hear Trey say we. I don’t have to do this alone, and he’s making it clear I won’t. I rest my head against his chest, my wet shirt still clinging to my damp skin. I sigh as his arms tighten around me. For the moment, I am safe. For the moment, I am not alone.
Slowing my breathing to match his, I listen to the steady beat of his heart. I don’t know if it’s his strong arms around me, the beat of his heart against my ear, or maybe a combination of both, but I let my guard down. I relax my body, I breathe deeply, and I find a moment of peace. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow. I only know that right now, this is where I want to be. And this is who I want to be with.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
The Compound is bustling when we get back. It’s Shipment Day, which means everyone has a job to do. I immediately feel guilty for keeping Trey from his and for shirking my responsibilities of putting food away in the kitchen.
The railroad tunnels are filled with two large semi-trucks, several pickup trucks, and at least a dozen men. After parking his truck in the underground lot, Trey kisses me quickly on the cheek and jogs away to help the others.
I make my way down the dimly lit tunnel to the hidden door in the stone wall. Climbing the stairs that lead to the Compound, I say hello to a boy no more than fifteen who’s guarding the entrance with his AK-47. He doesn’t know me, but he gives me a nod when I flash my internal Fringe tattoo at the digital entry scanner. The metal door slides open, allowing me access.
The hallway leading to the kitchen and cafeteria is lined with wooden crates overflowing with vegetables. Fruit in a variety of colors sit plump and ripe in wicker baskets. My stomach rumbles at the sight, and I’m tempted to swipe a banana, but it wouldn’t be fair. Everything is rationed, carefully planned for. Even one banana going missing might mess up the whole system Trey has created.
Thinking his name causes a smile to creep to my face. My
fingers wander to my lips as I think about our kisses next to the lagoon and how his hands felt on my body.
“What are you smiling about?” I glance up to see Trina coming down the hall.
“Nothing,” I say. I haven’t told Trina about kissing Trey. Partly because that’s a secret, and partly because for all her assurances that he’s like a brother, I’ve seen the way she looks at him sometimes.
Sliding her arm through mine, she steers me to the kitchen. “You’ve been gone most of the day.” She smiles, her eyes curious. “I find it hard to believe it’s nothing.” She pauses. “Did you see Zane?”
My heart drops. Of course she would think my giddiness is a result of Zane. But he probably never wants to see me again.
I shake my head. A little too quickly. She assumes the opposite of the truth.
“You did! You little sneak!” She leans in and whispers in my ear. “Did he kiss you again?”
“No. And I wasn’t with Zane.” She doesn’t need to know all the details, but I don’t want her to think for a minute that there’s anything between the genetically modified boy and me. I’d hate for that to get back to Trey.
Her eyes widen, and then they narrow. “Trey has been gone all morning also.” She lets the thought hang in the air like a poisonous snake ready to strike.
I shrug.
She gasps as she slips her arm out of mine. “You were with Trey?” Disappointment registers in her blue eyes, and I feel bad. How many people will I hurt today with the truth?
Tucking her short brown hair behind her ear, she forces a smile. “I didn’t realize you liked him.”
“No,” I say, “I didn’t realize you liked him.”
Trina starts to protest, but a small smile escapes. “He’s like a brother to me—”
“I know,” I interrupt, “you’ve said that before. But is it the truth?”
She hesitates before nodding. “Of course. And if you’re happy, I’m totally cool with it.”
We reach the kitchen and stand outside the door for a moment. I study her face, trying to discern if she’s lying and how much I’ve hurt her.
“Trina.” I speak in a low voice as Kaylee, the girl with the blonde ponytail that Trey extracted from Harlow’s lab, exits the kitchen, carrying a basket of apples. “If I had known how much you liked him, I would have never…”
“Kissed him?” she finishes for me with a wry smile.
“Exactly,” I say, and then want to bite my tongue. Now she knows I kissed him.
She grabs my hand and pats it. “I’m okay. Seriously. I’m happy for you.” She leans in with a wicked grin. “So, how was it?”
“Nope.” I smile. “That would be bad form to kiss and tell.” We turn into the kitchen, and I glance at her. “But, if I was being truthful… it was pretty amazing.”
She laughs. This time, the smile reaches her eyes. I exhale with relief.
“I never doubted that for a minute,” she says, grinning.
We spend the next two hours working side by side. We slice the tomatoes and she teaches me how to can them. How to sterilize the jars, remove the tomato skins, and how to boil the jars in a water bath canner.
I’m grateful for the opportunity to keep my hands and mind busy. I don’t want to think about my mother and what those military men did to brainwash her. I don’t want to feel hopeless, scared, or sad.
Instead, I immerse myself in Trina’s stories as she confides in me about her life as a GM and what it was like at her gender-segregated school. She talks about meeting a boy named Justin every afternoon by the fence that separated the two schools and how they would try to kiss through the metal crisscrosses.
“Weren’t you scared you’d get caught on camera?” I ask, screwing the lid on the last jar of tomatoes.
A group of teenage girls at another counter giggle loudly as they slice and can strawberries. They appear to be teasing Kaylee, whose face is beet red.
“No, by then, I was beyond the point of caring. What would they have done to us anyway? Flogged us? I don’t think so.”
It’s hot in the kitchen with the generator going and the heat rising up from the stove. For the first time since I cut my hair, I’m glad it’s short.
“I used to hate girls like you,” I admit.
Her eyes widen. “Why?”
“Because you’re too perfect. Too pretty. Too athletic. Too smart. As a normal girl with freckles and red hair, I resented all of you who had it easier in life.” My eyes lower. It’s the first time I’ve ever admitted it out loud. I always knew those feelings were there, right below the surface, but it’s one thing to think it, and something completely different to say it out loud, and to a GM no less.
“Sienna,” Trina snaps.
Her tone forces me to look up.
“I don’t ever want to hear you talk like that again. Look at you. You’re gorgeous. You resented my kind? Well, news flash, I resented you and all the normal people. People who have a choice. Who are born with a lifetime of possibilities, the power to love who they want, and the ability to live their life however they choose, whether it’s good or bad.” She takes a deep breath. “I never had that choice. I didn’t choose to be genetically modified. I can thank my dear old parents for that.”
For the first time, my eyes are open to her life, to the life of every genetically modified child. There is no choice. It’s a life they’re forced into. And a marriage arranged at their birth. There is no love, no romance… no freedom.
Now I know what my mom was referring to that day in my room when she said my dad wanted me to be free from the pressures of society. He wanted to protect me from that kind of life.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I guess I never tried to look at it from your perspective.” I wink at her. “But you’re still too pretty, too smart—”
She flings a wet rag she was using to wash her hands at me. I laugh, hurling it back at her as the girls at the opposite counter turn and watch with wide eyes. They are a couple of years younger, and when they see two older girls flinging wet rags at each other, they decide to join the fun. With the heat, the soaked washcloths are almost welcoming as they hit our bare skin.
I laugh and toss one at Kaylee, who hits her friend with the brown curls. The kitchen erupts in hysterical laughter, and for a brief moment, I understand what it means to be carefree. To be a teenage girl who has girlfriends who talk about boys and stealing kisses beside chain-link fences. For a few seconds, I am someone other than me.
“Whoa! What is going on in here?” a familiar, husky voice booms from the doorway.
All traces of laughter stop, and we all turn, wide-eyed, to see Trey standing in the doorway, a large crate on top of his broad shoulders. His eyes flit around the room until they rest on me. He smiles. “Is this your doing?”
I point a finger at Trina, who blushes. “She started it.”
Trey laughs and moves through the doorway, setting the box on the far end of the counter. “Here’s some green beans. Are you canning these also?”
“Probably not tonight,” Trina responds. “I think Lucille is ready to get her crew in here to start making dinner.” She smiles at him, and my stomach twists. “We can get to it first thing in the morning.”
He returns her smile. “Thanks, Trina.” Turning to me, he says, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
I follow him out into the hallway, but not before I glance over my shoulder to see Trina’s reaction. She looks like she swallowed something sour, and guilt overtakes me. If I had known… would it have mattered?
Trey leans his side against the wall, and I take the same stance opposite him.
He speaks in a low voice. “One of our trucks didn’t come back from picking up the shipment. Me and a couple other guys are going out to look for it.”
My eyes widen, and my heart begins to pound like a sledgehammer in my chest. Isn’t this how his father was killed? A routine supply run?
“I won’t be here for dinner.” He pauses and bites his li
p, and my eyes are drawn to his mouth. His smooth, full lips. The ones that light me up when they touch my skin.
“Anyway, just wanted you to know so you don’t wonder where I am.”
“Will you be okay?”
“I’ll be fine. But do me a favor? Don’t tell anyone. I don’t want people to worry. Yet.”
My throat closes. This sounds dangerous.
“Can I come?” I say on the off chance he’s feeling generous. “I think I’ve proven to be a fairly good shot.”
“Absolutely not,” he says, his mouth turning into a frown. A very kissable frown. “And hopefully, no one will be shooting anything.”
His hand touches my face, and his thumb traces my cheekbone, sending a chill up my spine despite the stifling heat seeping from the kitchen. He glances up and down the hallway before he leans in, his lips teasing mine. When he pulls away, he smiles and strokes my cheek. “See you soon,” he says before striding down the hall.
When I return to the kitchen, I go through the motions of cleaning up the tomato juice and washing the cutting boards. I ignore Trina’s curious gaze and the whispers from the younger girls, including Kaylee, who appears the most curious of all the girls about why Trey wanted to see me in the hall.
My stomach is in knots at the thought of this rescue mission. Something doesn’t feel right. As I wipe down the counters, I try not to think about all the things that could possibly go wrong.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Bedtime tonight is pushed up by two hours due to a downed generator and the inability to light the hallways until they replace the broken one. Trina reassures me this happens occasionally. The good news is we have several back-up generators to use while the first one is rebuilt. Apparently, they use an alternating rotation so one generator is never handling the burden on its own.
I stand at the sink with a flashlight and brush my teeth while Trina showers. Trey and his crew haven’t returned yet, and my heart races when I think about what could have happened. Earlier, I tried to send him a message, but so far, I’ve been met with silence on his end.
Catalyst Page 24
