“So you chose Lyncoln?” Samson asks, smiling.
I nod.
“Good. That guy is an animal,” he shakes his head. “I was trained my whole life, yet when we stood guns drawn in the hallway that night, I knew I was either going to die or be his prisoner. I knew better than to mess with a man like Lyncoln. He out alphaed me in a milli-second.”
I have to laugh at that. “Well, I knew you didn’t try anything funny or he would never allow me in the same room with you.”
He smiles. “That’s no joke.” He pauses a moment and his brow furrows in confusion. “But Henry doesn’t like Marisol though, right?”
“Right,” I nod. His intentions might not be completely pure and honorable like Lyncoln said, but he does not like her. I know that.
“So say that Hadenfelt made some sort of deal with us. Maybe this Henry thing wasn’t part of the plan? It couldn’t have been, at least if the choice between boys was up to you and you made it after Williams had already left. After the Isabella ordeal. Maybe that buys you more time?” he reasons. Like me, he is always trying to think of what makes the most sense.
“Maybe. Or maybe whatever deal he made with the devil can’t be delayed.” I know Hadenfelt could be listening in right now, but we haven’t said anything he doesn’t already know, and we haven’t said anything about the monitors. And I’m pretty sure Hadenfelt knows how I feel about him. There’s no love lost between us.
Samson thinks for a while then shakes his head and adds, “Whatever deal he made, if he did, is big. Our commanding officers don’t just make deals. Especially with the guy who oversees the torturing of those of us caught. They wouldn’t just do it for nothing.”
“So what would they want? What would they do it for?”
“The only two things we have ever wanted.” He shrugs then after a pause adds, “Either power or revenge.”
****
A couple days later, Lyncoln and I are leaving the sim room. I had my big eight-hour sim while Lyncoln stayed and watched the entire time. I had some pent-up anger, and the sim was an excellent place to take out my aggression. Knowing Lyncoln was sitting there watching motivated me even more. I did pretty well and he knows it but still gives me crap about the few shots I did miss.
We are smiling and laughing as we leave, when Marisol and Henry round the corner on their way there. Though they walk hand in hand, Henry’s neck and shoulders look tight and rigid, his tell that he’s stressed out.
“Oh hey,” Marisol says sweetly.
“Hey,” I reply flatly. We have a plan in place for Friday evening after our interviews and social with the cabinet to get Henry to talk. I’m having a hard time keeping my mouth shut, but I have to keep my head down and leave Henry alone until then.
Just a few more days.
“Tell me you guys weren’t being inappropriate in the sim room,” Marisol says with an evil giggle.
I see a flash of hurt in Henry’s eyes. She is heartless. She said that on purpose to hurt Henry.
“Actually, we weren’t. Reagan had the eight-hour solo sim,” Lyncoln shrugs and sets a hand on my lower waist, almost my butt, which is not at all where he normally rests his hands. I see a flash of jealousy across Henry’s eyes before he looks away, and then I know why Lyncoln did it. He was just checking to make sure Henry still cares.
“Oh good, you left it open for us then.” Marisol gives us an exaggerated wink and cozies up to Henry.
She looks directly at me and then leans in and grabs Henry for a kiss.
I think he is just going to stand there and not kiss her back, but then he does, and I see red. Fortunately, I have been on the receiving end of Henry’s kiss. I don’t think he is kissing her like he kissed me, but the fact remains that he did kiss her back. Was it out of jealousy? Or because he has to so they look and act like a real couple? How pure are his intentions really?
“We will leave you to it then,” I try not to sound as sad and defeated as I feel as we leave them to walk down the hallway.
****
Later in my room, Lyncoln wraps his arms around me worriedly. “You okay? I know what we saw earlier today must have sucked for you.”
I nod, the tears threatening to sting my eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, I knew he would move on eventually, but I just don’t want to see it with her. Anyone but her, please.”
“I don’t think he’s past you,” he says, moving my hair to rub my shoulders.
“What do you mean by that?”
“I’ve been constantly watching his every move trying to figure him out. He may say the words they want and do the things they want, but he cannot keep his eyes off you, even when he knows they are watching. You saw him earlier. He’s still jealous. Even when he tries not to, his eyes linger on you,” he explains honestly and pauses a moment, “I know what to look for because I do it too.”
I look to his eyes and find the vulnerable Lyncoln back.
“I have to admit that makes me feel a little better,” I say, and he clenches his jaw before I reach up a hand to brush the stubble on his face. “But, I don’t want him to keep a candle burning for me for forever. It’s just strange that in just a few days we went from being best friends to watching him kiss one of our enemies.” What I don’t say out loud is that in less than a week he went from kissing me to kissing her. Lyncoln, of course, knows that, but I don’t need to voice it and rub his face in it.
“I’m ready for us to get this figured out,” he sighs frustrated. “I’m the happiest man on the planet right now because you chose me. We were so happy before the interviews. But now every time I feel happy or want to smile about it, I remember the situation with Henry. I guess I just feel guilty. And then I want to deck him for letting the Hadenfelts manipulate him. Then I feel even guiltier.”
“I hear ya,” I say wholeheartedly, leaning my head on his chest with a sigh.
****
Tuesday, we have the last meeting before our plan for Friday evening. Taggert and Jaden have been working non-stop and are making some headway. Friday cannot come soon enough. It sucks that it’s taking us so long just to be able to corner Henry and figure out Hadenfelt and the monitoring.
Jamie’s eccentric brother is talking fast as he points to a screen and explains to us what he has been doing. Though they have the same hair and eye color, their similarities seem to stop there. Jamie is a people person and a bit carefree. Jaden is an introvert and the epitome of a computer nerd right down to his dorky, but cool, looking glasses.
“So, I mean, yeah. I can see what they see, but I don’t know for how long before they catch on. Once I can see them, they can see me. There isn’t a more discreet way to do it, so I have to get in and out pretty quickly. I have my suspicions on who is in on it though.” He stops to push up his glasses. “For now, the best way to go about this is to not cut their feed, but instead change what they are seeing and replace real time with a time in which nothing was going on. That way they think nothing is going on in real time. I’ve already tried this once or twice this week and I don’t think they’ve noticed.”
The President offers, “This is way more information than we had a few days ago. Nice work. Just make sure to continue to use this room for all your hacking so that they don’t have eyes on you while you do it.”
Jaden nods in agreement. “As for Friday night, I will change all camera angles and the times down here too, so no one knows anyone else was down here. It will look like Henry came down to get something and left shortly thereafter. They shouldn’t know.” As an afterthought, he adds, “What are you going to do with them once you know who is working with that sadist anyway?”
Although Jaden Cane might be a bit of a troublemaker, he is ultimately on the right side and is hard not to like. I actually kind of adore his quirkiness. And his hatred for Hadenfelt that almost matches my own. Both Jamie and Jaden are cool in my book.
“For now, nothing,” the President says firmly. “And you have been sworn not to do anything either, you
ng man. Whatever they have on Henry is huge. We can’t do anything, not a single thing, until we know what it is.”
“Yes, sir,” he replies.
“However, the guard that is tailing my son, will be let go immediately,” the President says with a smile.
Late into the night, we fine-tune the plan and I remind myself that in just a few days we will finally get to figure out why Henry is doing this.
Three more days.
****
The next day drags on in anticipation for the upcoming master, super-secret plan, although I have sims and an interrogation with Samson to help me pass the time. I’m walking in the hallway to lunch alone because Lyncoln had to finish up something at DIA before coming back over to Mile High.
Normally, we spend most of our days together so I would wait for him, but we have an all-afternoon session with Dougall. She has been on my case lately, so I came back over early for her. I’m sure all of tomorrow I will be with her as well. Friday is not only huge because of the plan with Henry, but we have another round of interviews that have a lot riding on them. They will be broadcast before the entire nation before the movie showing. Fridays and Mondays until the elections are our interview times, but the last two have mostly been personal questions to let the country get to know us. Lyncoln and I did well on the first few interviews, but with this one being more about politics and if and how we are capable to lead our country, we can’t afford to be distracted by Marisol and Henry and do poorly.
“Hey. How you holding up?” Attie catches up to me in the hall, snapping me out of my thoughts. Knox is walking behind us too but a couple steps away giving us room to talk.
I smile a greeting to Knox before responding to her. “Something is definitely not right,” I say honestly, shaking my head.
“I know,” Attie agrees. “Nothing yet on the Marisol and Henry front? You want to talk about it?”
“Not really.” I shrug defeated. Yes, I would really love to talk to her about it since she’s my best friend, but no, because Hadenfelt is everywhere. Now I am missing out on all my friends. In the cafeteria, I don’t talk much because I don’t know what I can and can’t say. Lyncoln and I barely even hold full conversations without stopping and watching our words. This last week has been stressful, to say the least.
“You should hear Elizabeth’s thoughts. Ha. And hey, how are interrogations with Samson going? Sorry we aren’t able to make it as much anymore.” She smiles supportively, tucking her light brown hair behind her ears.
After I came to them for help that day in the observation room when everything went down with Isabella, they made it a point to not miss any of those first interrogations with Samson. Their support for me did not go unnoticed. Attie checking in here and there about how I feel about the Isabella situation has meant the world to me too. The Culling is crazy and I have a lot going on, but she has been a good friend through all of it. Even if we are all busier now that the final four is established.
“They are going. Slow but sure. There is just so much hatred between them and us. I don’t even know why. Half of the stuff he is telling me wasn’t even us. And then I get to wondering, if it wasn’t us, then who was it?” I ask bewildered.
“Interesting,” Attie nods.
We then talk about her and Knox’s prep with Dougall and they both get me laughing. It feels good to laugh for a change. As the three of us enter the cafeteria, Marisol and Henry are already there. I watch him, hoping to see whatever it is that Lyncoln says is still there.
All I see is a worn out and pissed off looking Henry. I feel that ball of guilt from deep in my stomach. This is partially my fault. Maybe more than partially. I didn’t choose him.
Marisol is already sitting down and Henry is about to join her. He looks up before he does, and our eyes meet. Before he can stop himself, he smiles at me. It’s brief, and then he’s back to being pissed off Henry.
But there it was. He’s still in there after all. I can’t have imagined it. Lyncoln is right.
I want to run up to him, give him a hug, and tell him everything will be fine, but instead I just smile sadly and get in line for food.
Two days.
****
Much to my dismay, Lyncoln ditches me and our afternoon session with Dougall. He is allowed since he is Taggert’s chosen child and all. Ugh.
“You have to sound more convincing than that,” Dougall chastises me.
“Dougall, I just have a lot going on. I’ll be better and nail it on Friday, promise.” I release a frustrated sigh. We have already been at this for an hour. Although I don’t mind her now that she doesn’t seem to totally hate me, she is still much more bearable when Lyncoln is here to charm her.
“Henry?” she asks.
I don’t answer.
“So what did Marisol do?” she asks again.
“That seems to be the golden question. It seems she has more power than the President himself sometimes.” I shrug, feeling defeated again. I can’t fight off this feeling that with Marisol and Henry together, my days in the Culling are numbered.
At least I still get to stay with Lyncoln if we get the boot though. Knowing I made the right decision in choosing who I want to be with, leading the country or otherwise, has been the ray of sunshine within this crap. I have Lyncoln. Even if freaking Marisol wins, I still have Lyncoln.
“That’s old news. The Hadenfelts and Maxwells have been duking out a power struggle for years. Decades even. The cabinet is split at this point. The Hadenfelts have made too many promises and blackmailed too many people over the years.” She shakes her head as she finishes.
I can’t help but ask bluntly, “So which side are you on? Hadenfelt or Maxwell?” I don’t know if we should be talking like this with Hadenfelt possibly listening in. Dougall was the first person to know that I chose Lyncoln. Did she run and tell Marisol so that she could get her claws in him? The President said he had influence with the Board, and it could very well be with her. Or it could just be his eyes and ears everywhere.
“What do you think, dear? Why have I been so hard on you?” she asks like it’s obvious.
“Because I’m a bad dancer?”
“That, too, though you’re improving.” She gives me a quick smile. “I’ve been wanting you to see your potential so you can help once and for all rid us of the Hadenfelts. As the next Presidential Couple, you must keep twenty percent of the previous cabinet members for at least the transition. There are no guidelines as to who. You best choose wisely.”
“Well hell will freeze over before Lyncoln and I would keep Hadenfelt,” I say with hatred running in my veins, not even caring if he can hear my every word.
“I was counting on that.” She smiles knowingly. “Now. It is about time I fill you in on who’s who and who you might try to sway.”
“Why? Why would you do that? You’ll put yourself on his list if you aren’t already,” I ask but am impressed at her willingness to help. I am also again unsure if we should be talking about all this right now if Hadenfelt can listen in. Surely, he has more important things to listen in on than our etiquette lesson?
“Because we are in a war and the last thing we need is a leader that doesn’t deserve to be there. I’ve made the mistake of doing his bidding before but won’t again. I’ve watched him poison our country for far too long,” she says determined. “He’s nothing but a power-hungry fool. I will do everything within my own power to make sure you other three couples have all the information you need to make sure that man stays as far away from the presidency as possible. I’ve already started speaking with the other two couples on cabinet members to woo, so don’t worry about this being special treatment.”
“Tell me what I need to know,” I say honestly and feel a glimmer of hope. I kind of half hope Hadenfelt is listening in. As many people as he has doing his bidding, he has an equal amount that hate his stinking guts.
Marisol and Henry are one of the final four couples. The other three of us are all on the same
page, determined they not win. It doesn’t matter which one of us does win, as long as it isn’t them.
We can’t let the Hadenfelts win this thing. We just can’t.
****
The next evening, after an extremely long interview prep with Dougall, Lyncoln is at my door looking frustrated having skipped out on etiquette and being missing in action for the second day in a row.
“Hey, gorgeous.” He smiles and gives me a kiss on the cheek as I let him in.
“How was your day?” I ask.
“Revealing,” he says with a shrug. I notice his knuckles are red and starting to bruise over. The last time I saw them all bruised like that, he had been pounding on Grady. Rightly so.
As he sits on the couch, I grab his hand and look at it questioningly. He looks me straight in the eyes and shakes his head no. What he is saying is “not here”. I’m so sick and tired of not being able to talk in confidence with one another. Last night we barely knew what to say to each other without mentioning something we shouldn’t.
And why does he get to throw punches when I don’t?
I look at him angered and annoyed and he feels it. He gets back off the couch and grabs my hands with both of his. I’m pretty sure he’s about to kiss the annoyance right off my face.
The Fracturing: Book 2 (The Culling Series) Page 3