“No. Daniel and I have been taking shifts to make sure you remained stable. Unofficial rule here is since we captured you, we’re responsible for you. At least until Charlie decides otherwise.”
“And I suppose you want me to thank you?”
Standing, his beautiful eyes look me up and down. “No, but do ask yourself this; if a prisoner in ROC had been shot, would they have used valuable time and resources to keep that person alive?”
Without so much as another glace, he strolls out the door and I’m left dumbfounded. But he’s right. In ROC, if you’re sick or injured and don’t have the money to pay, or if you’re a criminal, you’re left to die. Medicine is too valuable to waste and besides, each natural death is one less number to be drawn at the next Gamble. It’s in everyone’s best interest to not save lives.
CHAPTER TWELVE
A few minutes later, while I’m trying to adjust the uncomfortable sling and about to just give up, the cabin door opens again and in steps Charlie. With the sun backlighting her auburn hair, there almost appears to be a golden halo circling her head. “Kelsey, how are you feeling?”
“Your people shot me,” I say for the third time while casting an icy, angry frown and tugging on the sling’s knot.
“Yes, I can understand how you might be upset. I’m sorry. Randolf was following orders. We can’t have you running off into the woods.”
“Jax told me you guys have gotten over that whole idea of me being a spy.”
“Yes. Though whether or not we can trust you remains to be decided.”
“Let’s pretend,” I begin, “hypothetically of course, we come to an agreement that I’m not a threat and I decide I like you people, then what?”
She shrugs. “You can live here if you like as long as you carry your own weight. Everyone in the compound works hard to provide for themselves and the others around them. Except unlike in ROC where it’s every man for themselves, we are a family here. We take care of each other because that is the only way anyone survives.”
I consider the unofficial proposal. What do I want? My options are limited. Clearly, I’m too incompetent to escape, not that I have anywhere to go anyway. I certainly can’t, nor do I want to return to ROC, and I think it’s time I acknowledge that I’ll never manage on the surface alone, not without help. These people could have killed me a dozen times and while they did shoot me, they healed me too instead of letting the bullet finish me off. As Jax pointed out, it’s more than anyone in the O.Z, possibly my father included, would have done.
“If I did want to stay here, how can I prove I’m on your side?”
“You would need to accept that ROC is not the place you think it is. I would need to know that you believe us, and you aren’t going to turn against us.”
“ROC was my home,” I argue, because even though I’ve seen enough in a week to question everything I’ve been told, I’m not ready to turn my back on the place and people who raised me.
“Right,” Charlie says, “was. It’s not any longer. So where will you call home now?”
I don’t know how to respond because I don’t know what to think, but I’m saved by a knock on the door and a moment later a boy no older than thirteen enters. His eyes flit over me and I see a mixture of curiosity and apprehension before he addresses Charlie.
“There’s a situation that needs your attention.”
Suddenly she looks very tired, her shoulders falling forward as she sighs and runs a delicate hand through her long hair. “It’s the League again isn’t it?”
The question makes no sense, but the boy nods and Charlie turns back to me, tension wrapped into her elegant features. “Excuse me, Kelsey. I need to handle this.”
She marches away before I can ask for an explanation and Jax quickly strides back in.
A groan passes my lips. “Ugh, my God, what do you want now?”
“Figured you’d want lunch,” he says handing me a sandwich and some water. “You haven’t had real food in a few days and Daniel was only able to pour so much soup down your throat between unconscious episodes.”
I take the food and begin to eat. “Is Charlie serious?” I ask around a mouthful of bread and chicken. “About letting me stay here.”
“If you prove we can trust you and that you trust us.”
“What exactly do I need to do for you all to trust me?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Jax says, hands jammed in his pockets. He’s wearing another dark colored t-shirt which shows off his muscular arms and makes his eyes look even brighter, though I don’t know why I’m paying attention to any of that. He’s a jerk so who cares if he looks good.
Trying to stop myself from staring at Jax’s physique, I take a long swig of water and then set the cup on the floor and stand. “I didn’t hold you at gun point, lock you up in a crude prison and shoot you in the shoulder.”
“You’re really hung up on this shooting thing, aren’t you?”
I don’t respond, choosing instead to stare at him with a look of challenge, my jaw set tight and my eyes unblinking.
“Fine,” he says. “We would need you to accept that your world is a lie and that, whether you like it or not, ROC is a threat to everyone on the surface, yourself included now that you know the truth.”
My teeth grind together. “You’re asking me to stand against everything I’ve known for the last eighteen years. To accept it’s all lies without much proof.”
His eyebrows arch. “The fact you’re sitting up here having this conversation with me isn’t proof enough?”
“It’s possible no one in ROC knows there are people on the surface. I only have your word and Charlie’s word that they do. For all I know, whoever stuck us in ROC in the first place could have lied to everyone down there and we’d be none the wiser.”
Chewing on his lower lip for a moment, he eventually sighs. “Fine. I can’t prove that they have knowledge of life on the surface, but I’ll make a deal with you. What if I can prove that your leaders have kept a different secret? Would that help convince you?”
I snort. “And how do you plan to do that?”
“There’s a tracker in your wrist, right under the barcode. It’s put in there when you’re born to monitor your whereabouts inside ROC at all times, keep tabs on every citizen; where they are, who they’re with, everything. Your barcode tattoo doesn’t actually do anything other than cover up the incision scar. They don’t tell anyone about it so they always maintain one more layer of control over their citizens. Over you.”
“There’s no tracker in my arm,” I say defiantly, jutting my chin in the air. The barcodes are one thing. Everyone knows what it is and what it does and can, in theory, travel around ROC without using them if doors are already open. There’s always a way around the barcode and it doesn’t transmit a position, only updates what doors we may have walked through. But a tracker that monitors our every move, who we’re with, our exact location every second of the day? My father would never allow such an invasion of privacy.
“Will you let me at least try?” Jax asks. “I’ll be much more interested in trusting you if you show me you are at least willing to believe we aren’t lying. Charlie will too.”
“So you want me to prove I’m trustworthy by letting you cut up my wrist?”
“Basically.”
“And if I let you do this, can I finally be let out of my jail cell?”
He shrugs. “Sure.”
“Ok, whatever,” I say, using my teeth to pull up my right shirt sleeve and display the barcode. I might as well humor him for the chance at being released from my prison. “You won’t find anything though.”
Drawing the knife from his belt, he approaches me. “And if I do?”
“Then I guess I’ll have to reconsider a few things.”
“Not good enough.”
“Then what do you want?” I ask, exasperated because this is becoming more of a production than I envisioned.
With a strange look and slight ti
lt of his head, a sly smile crosses his mouth. “A kiss.”
I balk, stepping away. “A what? You must be joking!”
He shrugs again. “I’m not really much of a comedian. We can, however, revisit my request after I prove you wrong though.”
Pursing my lips, I flop my right arm forward. He holds it with an unexpected gentleness I didn’t think Jax could possess. Then he glances up and our eyes lock for a moment and my stomach flip-flops over itself.
“This is going to hurt,” he says.
“I’ve been shot, remember?”
The corners of his lips twitch. “You did mention that once or twice.”
“I’m a big girl. I can handle a little cut.”
With a nod, he touches the point of the knife to my skin. It’s cool and sharp, leaving behind a clean slice and a thin red line of fresh blood as he creates a small slit running vertically down the center of the barcode. It stings and I inhale a tight breath, resisting the urge to snatch my arm away.
He turns his gaze to me again and for a second my heart flutters, which is stupid because this is Jax and I’m pretty sure I don’t even like him a little bit so there’s no reason for my heart to be doing anything other than beating as normal. And why does it feel like I have a million butterflies competing for space in my stomach?
“You alright?” he asks.
“Yes,” I reply a little too confidently. The blood twists down to my elbow in long ribbons, dripping over the side of my arm and free-falling to the floor to splatter into tiny droplets.
Setting the knife aside, Jax adjusts his hold on my wrist and then, with his thumb and index finger, reaches inside the wound. I cry out as my tender skin rips apart, burrowing deeper than the initial incision, but the pain ends a second later. I jerk my arm back, cradling it against my chest and I can feel the blood soak into my shirt, warm and sticky.
“Told you so,” Jax announces holding out a tiny metallic chip no larger than my little fingernail. “It doesn’t work above ground, only inside ROC or we’d have cut it out sooner. With or without your consent.”
He drops it into my palm, and I can only gawk in astonishment. He plucked that thing from my skin, out of my body. It had been inside me… a fact I can’t deny no matter how badly I might want to.
“That… that was in my wrist… my entire life? All this time?”
“Yeah. Now do you believe me? Like I said, we aren’t the bad guys up here. We’re just trying to survive.”
I want to respond, but the room is swirling and Jax’s face has tripled so I don’t know which face to talk to.
“Kelsey?” they all say in unison, features widening in concern. My knees have turned to jelly and then I’m falling.
But I don’t hit the floor because Jax is there, his arms supporting me as he lowers us down together until I’m sitting in his lap, held upright against his shoulder. He is strong and solid, like a brick wall, and smells like the grass and fresh air and a little bit of dirt. Wonderful smells I never thought I’d experience.
“Are you ok?” he asks, his lips so close the breath of his words brush softly against my cheek. I’m dizzy and lightheaded and not sure it’s entirely from the shock. I touch my forehead, taking a moment to close my eyes, willing my racing mind to find a sense of calm. When I open them again, I am staring into Jax’s and I can see myself reflected in his dark pupils.
“Yeah,” I say softly. “I think I just lost too much blood too quickly.”
“You’ve had a rough few days. Here.” Yanking a piece of cloth from his back pocket he winds it around my wrist, all while continuing to hold me upright against his body. He presses lightly, but firmly to stop the flow of blood. “I’m sorry. I should have been more careful, or at least had you sit down.”
“No, no. It’s fine. I’m fine, it’s just… I can’t believe this. I think I just need some time to process it.”
“Well, there’s an upside. You don’t have to stay in here anymore.”
“Awesome,” I say with a half-smile because while I’m happy to be free of my jail, I’m not happy with the undeniable realizations. Did my father know about the chips, or was it something the Gendarme oversaw? Why go through so much trouble? And if they concealed this, what else did they lie about?
I look up to see Jax flashing a playful, boyish grin, his blue-green eyes sparkling. At this proximity, I can see they are ringed with a tint of grey, like storm clouds hovering over an ocean.
“What?” I ask a little too breathless for my own comfort. Why is my heart beating so fast anyway? I hope I don’t have to add heart palpitations to my list of medical issues.
A mischievous expression creeps over his features. “There is that small matter of my end of the bargain.”
I think for a moment, then shove him away and jump to my feet. “I am not kissing you!” I bang open the prison door and storm into freedom.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Where are you going?” Jax calls, his footfalls trailing behind me, crunching on the grass and gravel. Like a silver shadow, Tisis trots beside him, her paws silent.
I don’t even bother to glance over my shoulder, too heated from his stupid bargain on which I have absolutely no intention of following through. “Preferably as far from you as I can get.”
“Well, that’s gonna be a little difficult.”
I halt and flip around so quickly we almost collide. “And why is that?”
“Because prisoner or not, I’m still responsible for you, which means you’re going to be bunking in my house.”
I release a growl of aggravation, massaging the space between my eyes because I swear he makes my head hurt. “Seriously? Why can’t I go stay with Daniel? I’m his responsibility too.”
“You’d be happier with Daniel?” he asks as though such an insane possibility never occurred to him.
“Since I don’t generally have a burning desire to punch him in the nose, yes.”
“Ok. Daniel’s house it is.”
Without another word, Jax wanders off toward a dilapidated yellow house marked by a faded green door and dotted with splintered windowsills and dirty panes of glass. I have no choice but to follow and as we climb the ancient porch stairs, they creak under our weight. The roof sags, the trim is in desperate need of replacement and one second floor window is broken and boarded up. The wolf curls up on an old blanket bunched up in a far corner and lays her head down, ears pricked forward as she watches us with intelligent inquisitiveness.
Jax doesn’t knock, he just flings open the front door and marches in, me in tow. After passing through the cramped living room, we find Daniel sitting at the kitchen table eating lunch. Upon seeing me, he raises an eyebrow, a sandwich frozen in the air halfway to his mouth.
“Charlie know about this?”
“Not yet,” Jax replies. “But I got the tracker out. I heard Charlie is dealing with the League.”
“Yeah,” Daniel says glumly, setting down his meal.
“What did they demand this time?”
“Who knows?”
“How much more is Charlie going to let them take before doing anything about it?”
“That’s for Charlie to decide, not you.”
“What’s the League?” I ask. Both men look at me as if they’d forgotten I was there.
Daniel forces a smile, his eyes crinkling. “Not something you need to worry about right now, Miss Kelsey. Anyhow, guess if you’re staying here you can take the spare room next to Jax’s. It’s small, but at least it doesn’t have bars on the windows.”
It takes a minute for his words to register, but when they do, I slowly turn my head to find Jax unsuccessfully suppressing laughter.
“Next. To. Jax’s?” I repeat, my head inclined to one side as I realize what he’s done.
“Yup,” Jax says, puffing out his chest in pride. “Daniel and I happen to be roommates.”
“I bet you think you’re really clever.”
“I am. I am also incredibly handsome too,”
Jax says with a stupid wink and a ridiculous grin that I want to knock off his face. “It’s astounding I got so lucky in the genetics lottery. I’m gonna go give Charlie an update.”
He strolls from the room with a swagger, shoulders back and chin held high. I stick out my tongue and make an ugly face at his retreating form.
“This will be extremely entertaining,” chuckles Daniel, sitting back in his chair, legs spread wide and ebony eyes glittering with amusement. “You know, most of the young girls in this compound would kill to be in your shoes, living in the same house as Jaxon Cole.”
The Gamble (The Gamble Series Book 1) Page 10