“Hey.”
Matthew’s soft voice made me twist around on the stump.
“Oh, go away. I was actually starting to feel better.”
Matthew stopped walking a few feet behind me. He was carrying a small bowl, steam curling up from its contents. My stomach growled.
He held out the bowl to me. “I brought you dinner.”
“Why? What’s in it for you?”
His shoulders slumped. “I want to start over.”
“Did it ever occur to you that it’s a little past way too late for that?”
Matthew settled next to me on the ground. “I know you hate me. I know I deserve it. I just…I guess I got in the habit of being a turd to you, you know? That’s the game we played for so long that when you came back today, I didn’t even think about it.”
“When did you grow up?” I snapped. I was staring at the bowl. My mouth watered at the smell of beef and vegetables.
“Around the time I heard that my sister Justine and Mason were betrothed.” His words too flat to be anything but true. “I realized that I was jealous, and that I’d messed it up between us.”
So Mason was engaged to Justine Dumont. That explained his twine bracelet.
I supposed I shouldn’t have been surprised; my parents had always gotten along with the Dumont family, who were as traditional as they were. It was pure coincidence that the Dumont children were all close in age and the opposite sex of the Johnson children, but it made courting easy. Allison had married Samuel Dumont last year. I hadn’t seen her since coming to camp; she was probably at her new campsite.
“Yeah, you did mess it up,” I said. “You said nasty things to me and you touched me even though I said you couldn’t.”
Matthew appeared to be thinking. “That was wrong of me,” he said finally. “And I understand why you broke my hand. You were right when you said that we weren’t engaged, and that I had no right to touch you.”
I studied him, searching for the hidden intent in his little speech. Matthew wasn’t bad-looking, per se; dark hair and eyes, full lips, and a strong jaw all added up to a pleasant face. Some of his muscles had filled out since we’d had our weird courtship years before. He wasn’t Benjamin, but he wasn’t repugnant, either.
“I’ll take that soup.”
He handed it to me and I sipped from the bowl. I missed Reid’s cooking. “So what did you come here to say? That you’re sorry for everything? Or just today?”
“How about both?”
A thousand replies rushed through my head. Half of them were pure invective, an instinctual response to his presence. The other half were borne of gratitude that he’d finally admitted to wrongdoing. Matthew’s smooth lies—that I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met, that I was special, that I was smart and funny, that only I could make him happy—had eaten at my self-esteem for years. After all, if he’d had to lie to me, how could I believe that anyone would ever mean them?
But then again, unbelievable as it was, Matthew was apologizing and admitting that he’d been a jackass to me. The least I could do was forgive him and let the both of us move on. The twenty-seventh principle, virtue, demanded moral excellence.
I took a deep breath. “I accept your apology. And your friendship, if you’re offering it. But I won’t be courted by you.”
Matthew pursed his lips, thoughtful. “Are you courting someone else?”
I pointed to Benjamin in the distance, who was now explaining how to clean wounds. “Benjamin Corsaro. His codename is Mercury.” Affection spread through me, warm and comforting as bath water. I pulled out my necklace, which sparkled despite the firelight. “See? He gave me this.”
Maybe Matthew and I weren’t enemies anymore, but I wasn’t above showing off gifts from another man.
Matthew stared at the necklace. “That’s… fancy,” he said, a little stiff. “That was very generous of him. He must really like you.”
“He does.”
“He’s a healer and a runner, right?” Matthew ran his thumb over the J. “Can he fight?”
I shrugged. “Yeah, some. He doesn’t have the training that normal camp boys have, but that’s not really his job. He’s on the rear line with Ember.”
Matthew tucked my necklace back under my collar, and his hand brushed the tops of my breasts.
I glared at him.
“Sorry,” he murmured. “I really didn’t mean to do that.” Matthew stood up, still staring at my chest. “I have to go. I’m on watch tonight.” He left as quickly as he’d come.
I sat on my stump, trying to work out what had just happened. A slow smile spread across my face as I realized the truth: Matthew was jealous.
I ate my soup, laughing quietly every now and then. At least one good thing had happened today.
8
At twenty-two hundred, Ember, Marco, Reid, and I sat around the crackling campfire. Benjamin had been called away by Mr. Dufresne to hear the basics of watch duty and had promised to return soon.
Reid and Ember huddled together under a thick blanket, no doubt speaking telepathically. Every once in a while, the corners of Reid’s mouth would quirk, and Ember would nuzzle against his cheek. He’d steal a quick kiss and she’d giggle.
If they kept that up, Ember was going to have to take a year off from crime fighting to have a baby. I’d miss Ember on the battlefield, but I liked the idea of them starting a family.
Ember and Reid had been in love as long as I’d known them; it was only a matter of time before they got married. Leaders were allowed to perform the ceremony. I pictured binding their hands with ribbon and saying the brief, simple vows that would unite them.
I stopped watching their little game and nudged Marco, who didn’t need a blanket.
He was staring into the fire without blinking, the flames reflecting yellow and red in his eyes. He hadn’t spoken for a while.
“Hey,” I said, my voice low. “What are you thinking about?”
“Tim Spivak is courting Isabel.” His lips barely moved. “Mom and Dad really like him.”
I couldn’t remember ever meeting Tim, but I knew a few Spivaks. They were a cordial, industrious family from the far side of Chattahoochee, where the Dumont family also lived. Lark Spivak served in Baltimore alongside Reid’s brother Reuben and Berenice.
Perhaps Tim had been one of the many little boys running around when I’d visited the other end of the camp, usually to deliver a message or, for a brief time, visit Matthew.
“If your parents like him, he can’t be bad,” I said gently. “I know she’s only fifteen, but Isabel is a sensible girl. She’ll want to wait until she’s older to get married.”
“That’s not it.” He was still staring hard at the fire. “I’m… I’m just…” His large eyes filled with a bottomless sadness.
Marco looked up at Ember and Reid, who were now sitting with their eyes closed, their heads bowed together.
Serenity poured from them like the fragrance of a rose bush in bloom, filling the whole area with their happiness. There had been a time when their happiness had sickened me—what had changed?
The answer, of course, was Benjamin. He lavished me with affection. I wore a sign of his feelings around my neck.
I put my arm around him. “Do you want a girlfriend? Is that it?” I mentally tabulated all the girls around his age that I could think of.
“No, I don’t want a girlfriend. I’m just… I’m tired of being alone.” He dropped his head. “Greg died, then you found Benjamin, and even Isabel is paired up. I’m sick of this.” He hurled a twig into the fire. “I just want everything to go back to the way it was.”
Ember opened her eyes and looked at Marco, then stood up. “Reid and I are going for a late-night walk.” Reid grinned and followed her as she led him by the hand into the darkness.
“Aren’t they subtle,” I muttered.
Marco’s mouth twisted. “Whatever. I’m going to bed.” Before I could say anything he stood up and stormed into the s
helter, leaving me alone by the fire.
The chilling breeze whipped my hair around. I pulled a blanket around my shoulders and stared at the flames as Marco had.
In twelve hours I’d be at the tribunal, pleading my case in front of the three elders of the people involved. Would they have compassion on me and say I was innocent? Would they find me guilty of something abominable, and order my hair to be shorn off before I was flogged?
Possibility after possibility pricked at me, and I hugged my knees. Ember wanted a braver Jill, but I couldn’t summon the confidence I felt when I’d faced Patrick. He’d been wrong, and I’d been convinced of that.
But the elders weren’t Patrick. They weren’t beating me, abusing me, or misusing their power to oppress and torment me. They hadn’t done anything to me.
Now that I thought about it, Elder St. James had actually helped me in the past. He’d intervened when my father had caned me, yelling at him that stripping and publicly beating his grown daughter was an inappropriate punishment for what Marco and I had tried to do. He’d been kind enough to honor the friendship between Marco and me by allowing Marco to serve when he was underage.
He was a stern, remote figure in my life, but overall, I had to say he was a positive force. I couldn’t speak for Elder Campbell or Elder Lloyd, but I felt better about Elder St. James. He was a good man.
The sound of crunching twigs and leaves distracted me from my thoughts. Benjamin traipsed up the trail, shadows visible under his eyes. He sat down next to me, shivering lightly.
I inched closer to him and tossed the blanket around his shoulders. “Here.” I tugged the blanket close around us. “I’ll help you warm up.” I remembered Marco’s teasing from earlier and bit my lip, trying not to giggle. Now that Benjamin was here, it didn’t seem so absurd anymore.
He kissed my cheek. “Thanks. How are you feeling?”
“Worried. But I think Elder St. James will take my side tomorrow. I don’t want to talk about it, though. How was watch training?”
“It’s not hard, but I’m so beat right now, and I’ve got watch in two hours. I’ve been up since four, which means I’ll have been up for twenty-six hours by the time I get off watch. And then the tribunal starts.”
“You should get some sleep while you can.” I gestured to the shelter. “I’ll stay up and wake you up for watch.”
“Nah, I’ll just stay awake. I’m so tired that waking up for watch would be torture.”
I nudged him. “If you’re ever kidnapped by supervillains, I think you’ll find that they’d disagree with your definition of ‘torture.’”
Benjamin stared off into the dark. “I’m so glad I met you, Jillian,” he said finally, his quiet voice edged with sadness. “You freed me from that life.”
I rested my head on his shoulder. “Did you ever torture anyone?”
The thought of Benjamin ever deliberately harming someone in that way was so ludicrous that it didn’t bother me. His brother Beau, on the other hand, was cut from different cloth.
“No. But there were times when I ran with a crowd that did. If I never saw them again, it would be too soon.”
“You’re part of a better crowd now. You’ll never have to worry about watching one of us doing something as heinous as that.” Guilt pricked at me; I’d essentially tortured Patrick before he’d died. “Anymore,” I added. A shooting star streaked across the sky. “Make a wish.”
“I wish I won’t be tired tomorrow for the tribunal.”
I sat up. “If you’re so worried, just go get some sleep. Seriously, your bed is right over there.”
Benjamin pondered that for a moment. “Or I could stay up with you.” His hand found me under the blanket and he entwined his fingers with my own. “Sleep or alone time with Jillian? Decisions, decisions.” He moved his face closer to mine. “We never get to be alone at home.”
“I don’t want to sway your decision-making,” I whispered, enjoying this turn of events. “But…”
I cupped his cheek and kissed him, my hand leaving his and resting on his firm waist.
Benjamin inhaled and tangled his fingers in my hair, kissing me with such passion that when our blanket fell, I couldn’t feel the cold. Instead, I felt quite a bit hotter under my uniform.
I found myself half-sitting, half-kneeling in his lap. His hands moved up and down my back, sometimes tugging lightly on my hair and other times resting on my hips.
I gripped his muscular arms, imagining them unclothed, holding me tight. The thought made me ache.
For the first time in many weeks, I wasn’t afraid of tomorrow. I was dedicated to this moment, to this happiness, and I didn’t care one bit about what the elders were going to do to me. I was pressed up against Benjamin, the man I… I…
“Benjamin,” I whispered into his lips.
He groaned in pleasure. “I love it when you say my name.”
I leaned back a little and, without breaking eye contact, took my shirt off, revealing the lacy blue bra underneath. Benjamin’s eyes widened and he froze, his eyes locked onto my chest, which was just inches in front of his face. I slipped a strap down my shoulder.
His face was shocked, but I knew for a fact that he was pleased by what he saw.
“I—J… Jillian…” He was still staring at my chest. “We… We sh—”
I pressed a finger to his lips. “I want to show you how I feel about you. I want to show you how you make me feel. Please let me.” I slipped the other strap down.
Benjamin grabbed my shoulders and pushed me off him into the dirt. He scrambled to his feet and hurried a few feet away, then leaned against a tree, facing away from me.
I pulled my bra straps up and tugged my shirt over my head, blushing furiously. “What?” I demanded, my eyes itching. “What is it?”
Benjamin didn’t face me right away. When he’d finally calmed his ragged breathing, he turned, his face scarlet. “I can’t sleep with you. I just can’t. I’m sorry.” He hung his head. “What happened was my fault. This is all my fault. Please don’t feel bad. Please.”
I wrapped my arms around myself. “Oh, I’m not supposed to feel bad because I was turned down flat by my boyfriend for the second time? That I feel like a slut because I keep trying to get you to sleep with me?”
“That’s it. That right there.” His voice was hard. “That’s why I can’t sleep with you.”
I gasped. “Because I’m a slut?”
The tears spilled over. I’d tried so hard not to call myself that after he’d turned me down in the sick bay. I’d never imagined he’d actually feel that way about me. But now that he’d said it, I chastised myself for my naiveté. Of course he felt that way—I’d practically thrown myself at him.
But Benjamin slapped a hand to his forehead. “No! It’s because you equate wanting to have sex with being a slut! And all the other stupid crap you guys believe about sex and relationships and hair and education and everything!” He pounded his fist into his forehead. “God, I’m saying ‘slut’ now. I hate that word. This place is so backwards, can’t you see that, Jillian? Can’t you see how messed up this cult is?”
“Stop calling us a cult! We are not a cult!”
“Yes, you are! You guys can’t even go to a freaking doctor when you get hurt because your stupid elders want to control every single damn thing in your lives. I wanted to leave this place ten seconds after I got here. I’m playing nice to keep everyone happy. But I’m tired of it. I’m so damn tired of watching you cower when… when your father or whatever walks by. It’s like I’m looking at the girl in the café again. I’m sick of watching what you put up with because of what your oh-so-holy elders tell you.”
“I… I do not cower,” I growled, balling my fists.
He narrowed his eyes. “Earlier today, when Matthew was here, what was your big objection to him groping you?”
I reeled from the subject change. “What?”
“Matthew! The skinny freak who showed up today to harass you! Why were y
ou so angry when he groped you?”
“Because I hadn’t given him permission! What does this have to do with anything?”
Benjamin slammed his fist into the tree. “No! You were pissed off because he groped you without permission when you weren’t engaged! That’s what bothered you! Not that he’d molested you, but that he’d molested you when he supposedly wasn’t allowed to! My God! Did it ever occur to you that Matthew is never allowed to touch you without your permission? That if we ever got married, I wouldn’t have sex with you without your permission?”
Once again, I was knocked off course.
“But…” I rubbed my forehead. “That’s… That’s not… What?” Marriage implied consent. That’s what my parents had always taught me.
Benjamin made a noise of disgust, his face an unattractive grimace. “I cannot ethically have sex with someone who thinks that there’s ever a time when she can’t say no to me. That goes against my principles.”
I unclenched my fists. “I…I do not cower.”
“Your father literally knocked you down as a greeting and you just stayed there. What are you going to do when the elders do the same thing? Are you going to be the meek little mouse they want, or are you going to stand up and fight them?”
“I can’t fight the elders!”
“You can fight anyone you want to!” he roared. “You’re a superhero! The only thing stopping you is you!”
I burst into tears. “You have no idea what you’re saying! If I fight the elders and somehow manage to get away from camp with my life, I’ll be a rogue. Don’t you get it? I’ll have no contact with my family or friends, I’ll be cut off from the allies and their resources, and any other superhero can kill me.” I clenched my fists. “Without this ‘cult’ you hate so much, I’d be nothing. Yes, it sucks, but this is my life, Benjamin!”
He gave me a look of deepest disgust. “No, this is cowardice.”
“Go away,” I said through my tears. “Just go away.”
He let out a long sigh and rubbed his eyelids. When he was done, he opened his eyes, and his face had softened. “Oh, Jillian. I’m sorry. Please don’t cry. Look, we’re both tired. I shouldn’t have yelled.” He held out his arms. “Come here, sweetheart. Let’s start again.”
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