The Fracturing: Book 2 (The Culling Series)

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The Fracturing: Book 2 (The Culling Series) Page 18

by Tricia Wentworth


  Next, she nods to Lyncoln.

  “This is hard,” he says with a smile as he begins. “But I guess if I had to choose one person, and not Henry since Reagan already stole that one, I would choose Attie. And not just because she befriended me and helped me win over Reagan.” He gives an embarrassed laugh. “She is truly an amazing person. She has been a great friend to both of us and is eloquent and graceful. She reminds me of what queens were supposed to have been like.” He shrugs. “So I am eternally grateful for her help with Reagan,” he pauses and kisses me on the cheek, “But I am also thankful for the high standard she sets for us all as we are in positions of leadership. May we all be as kind and humble as she is in a position of power.”

  I nod my approval and add, “I swear that girl is so graceful she sleeps in heels.”

  Dougall laughs out loud at this, and I can tell she thinks this is going well.

  “Well, as the only engaged couple thus far, we wish you luck. We look forward to your coming nuptials as well as the results of this first vote,” she says, ending the evening and hugging us both.

  Just like that, our probably last interview is done.

  ****

  In the elevator on the way upstairs, Lyncoln is holding my hand and kind of quiet. More so than usual.

  “You were very charming tonight,” I say softly.

  He nods, looking up at me and out of his reprieve. “So were you.”

  “And we only have a little over an hour until our broadcast to see how we did,” I offer.

  “Oh, Maverick said they wanted to join us and watch it together. I invited Attie and Knox too. I even invited Marisol and Henry, but they said no. Or Marisol did anyway.” He rolls his eyes before continuing, “I figure we can order up some popcorn and candy and pretend it is a real movie night.” He smiles shyly. “Sorry I didn’t tell you or check with you before. I figured you wouldn’t mind.”

  “I don’t at all mind.” We will probably be saying goodbye to everyone later this week. Even if we don’t, we will have to say goodbye to someone else. So of course I want to spend time with our friends.

  “It can be a good old-fashioned pajama party,” Lyncoln smiles at me.

  “That’s what I’m talking about!” I say with a giggle, snapping out of my somber mood, then giggle some more.

  He smirks. “What now?”

  “I’ve never seen you in pajamas.” I giggle some more. The thought of him in a set of plaid, flannel pajamas is just too funny. All I have ever seen him in is military gear or suits.

  “That’s because I don’t typically wear them,” he shrugs honestly, “Just a pair of pants or shorts and I’m good to go.”

  “Not even a pair of furry socks or slippers?”

  He smolder-scolds me. “The more naked the better.”

  I suck in a gulp of air. As funny as the thought of Lyncoln in flannel pajamas was, the thought of him sleeping mostly naked is not even a little funny. I cannot stop the image in my head. Curse him for putting it there. He’s grinning now, obviously having said that just to torture me.

  I blush and shake my head, then ask “But where do you put your gun?”

  This makes everyone in the elevator laugh, Sarge especially, while Lyncoln shakes his head at me, smiling shyly.

  Once the doors open, he heads to change into comfier clothes while I head to my own room to do the same. I can’t help but watch him walk away, those shoulders pulling the material of his suit tight. Dang that black suit. Dang those shoulders.

  Our dinner has already arrived at my room and is waiting for us under covers so it stays warm. Not knowing what to wear with people coming over, I slip into jeans, a t-shirt, and, of course, my slippers. When my feet aren’t jammed into heels, they are getting cozy in my slippers. It would feel weird to really be in pajamas with people here, but this is much closer to pajamas than our usual attire, so I won’t be complaining. And we can’t have Lyncoln in his pajamas since he would probably be supporting a loincloth and nothing else. Animal.

  He knocks and comes in wearing dark jeans and a tight black v-neck t-shirt, thank goodness. He looks at me amused, seeing what I’m wearing. “No pajamas?”

  “Well since we are having company, I figured my usual was probably not appropriate,” I tell him.

  “But I really like those pajama shorts you have,” he pouts.

  I roll my eyes. “Exactly why they aren’t appropriate for company. Do I need to do anything for our guests coming?”

  “Nothing. I have Rodgers on it. They should bring up the stuff here shortly,” he smiles as he takes a bite of our chicken parmesan.

  I also take a bite and can’t help but groan with how delicious it is. I will really miss this food and being taken care of like this if we leave next week.

  “That good?” Lyncoln smirks.

  “That good,” I nod.

  “I can make a mean chicken parmesan myself,” he winks, “Remind me to make it for you some time.”

  The thought of Lyncoln in the kitchen cooking me dinner as my husband makes me tingly with excitement. Do I really get to spend forever with this hunk? Sometimes I have to pinch myself to make sure it’s all real. He stole my first kiss and then stole my heart, all in one fell swoop.

  We barely finish our meal and get the popcorn, sodas, and candy ready before Maverick and Elizabeth arrive.

  “Hey!” Elizabeth hugs me.

  “Hey,” I greet her and give Maverick a side hug. I’ve always liked Maverick, but he really helped me out in Detroit. So now I like him even more. And the two of them make a good pair. I’ve officially forgiven him for not choosing Vanessa, but only because Elizabeth is so awesome.

  “Milk Duds!” Maverick exclaims, seeing the candy. “No way!”

  Then Attie and Knox arrive and we all greet each other again. Since my room is smaller, the boys congregate on the couch while Elizabeth, Attie, and I prop up some pillows and sit on my bed with our backs to the headboard. We turn on the television and wait for the interview to come on.

  “Are those Milk Duds?” Knox exclaims, snatching the box right out of Maverick’s hands.

  “What is it with you two and Milk Duds?” Lyncoln jokes. “It’s like Reagan and chocolate cheesecake.”

  “Well it is pretty good,” Attie defends me.

  “Along with the peanut butter cookies,” Elizabeth says and winks at Lyncoln, knowing they’re his favorite. He usually eats a stack of them whenever the cafeteria has them.

  “No Marisol and Henry?” Maverick asks, checking his watch.

  “No. I did ask though.” Lyncoln shrugs.

  Knox shakes his head. “I am so sick of those two and their whole act. I mean, I think Marisol is really starting to believe it. Does she know she won’t even really get to be Madam President even if she wins? Her dad will make all her decisions for her. She will just be his puppet. They both will. They’re stupid if they think otherwise.”

  Knox is normally not so vocal so we all look at one another surprised.

  “What?” he asks.

  I smile. “Well you don’t have to be such a chatty-Cathy about it.”

  We all have to laugh at that.

  Knox clearly cares for Attie and I couldn’t be happier for them both. They are in the same boat as we are though, not knowing which township they would go to if they don’t make it to the final two. There are so many things that are wrong about that. I think of Trent and Morgan. It could be worse! At least we have options.

  “Why do we have to do sims if the voting is next week?” Maverick asks Lyncoln.

  “Other than to keep us out of their hair? No idea,” Lyncoln shrugs.

  “We should do a girls’ one again!” Attie squeals.

  That was a lot of fun and is one of my fondest memories of the Culling. It’s sad to think that only four girls remain now. Well, three girls and one bitter, heartless wench.

  “Only if Marisol doesn’t come with,” Elizabeth says coolly, thinking something similar. I remember the conf
rontation they had in the lunch room where Marisol was trying to make Elizabeth hit her. There is no love lost between those two.

  While the boys talk sims, Attie turns to steal some popcorn and asks, “Are you going to see Samson tomorrow?”

  Since she and Knox were watching when I jumped into the interrogation room in an effort to save his life, and they were again there after the Isabella fiasco, they have always taken an interest in interrogations. They have both been working in other parts of interrogation, looking for better means of interrogating since Grady and Samson are really the only two needing it right now. They’ve done lots of research. I fully appreciate their efforts. I may be the one asking questions, but they are always giving me input and ideas.

  I nod. “I did today, too, actually. We are at an impasse.” I shrug. “And I’m afraid for him if we don’t make it.” I sadly look at the popcorn in my lap and avoid Lyncoln’s eyes in case he’s listening.

  Attie smiles confidently and gives my shoulder a nudge with hers. “You’ll make it.”

  I don’t have time to argue with her because the blue screen comes to life and Dougall’s smiling face appears.

  “Good evening, State of the Union,” she smiles pleasantly. “These are the last interviews before the first round of voting next week. Monday we will be playing a two-hour special highlighting each couple and what they have accomplished thus far.” She stops momentarily for dramatic effect. “These young leaders are the best of the best and do our country proud. We have outstanding final four couples. Without further ado, let’s get to the interviewing.”

  The screen moves to Marisol and Henry. It’s as if we are watching live, but we know better. They are asked the typical questions. I want to vomit when Henry puts his arm around Marisol. He looks happy, except his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes and his dimples are barely there.

  When we get to the part where they ask if they have engagement plans, Marisol again says they are, “Too focused on the country and task at hand and don’t want to be distracted by such trivial matters.”

  I take a deep breath and try to control my anger. Someday, that girl will get what is coming to her. Hopefully, I get to be the one to deliver it directly to her face.

  When asked which person they are thankful for, I see Henry hesitate. I know he doesn’t know what to say or who to pick without getting in trouble. He better not say me or Lyncoln. I start to panic, wondering what he’s going to do.

  Marisol goes first and says Knox. Funny that she picks the quiet one, whom she assumes is least threatening. Always calculated, that one. Henry is up next and stumbles through it but picks Maverick.

  “I am offended,” Knox says at the break between couples. He is gesturing and pretending to be mad before adding, “If only I thought she really believed even half of what she says.”

  I keep eating popcorn and see Attie on the screen next. She is wearing a beautiful, dark green dress.

  “Great dress, girl,” Elizabeth says with me nodding in agreement.

  They are asked a bunch of questions and surprisingly, Knox takes the lead. I have seen their other live interviews and he normally lets her take a bunch of the questions because, well, Attie is Attie. She is charming, poetic, and a natural born speaker. He nails this interview though. As the only couple with three options of townships to go to if they are out, Denver, Galveston, and Vegas, they say they are not sure of their plans yet. I know that means it will depend on who the Presidential Couple ends up being as to if they stay in Denver. Then they get to the part where they have to say who they are thankful for.

  Attie goes first, “Reagan. Definitely Reagan. She came into this thing and started pulling us together from the get-go. She didn’t care where we were from or what we looked like, she just got a bunch of us together and started forming friendships despite the fact that we were her competition. I was so nervous that first day, and she just sat down and started talking to me like she had known me my whole life.

  “And that’s just truly how she is. She gets people. She listens to people. And she is loyal as well. I know I could go to her with any problem and she would help. Even if she wasn’t paired with Lyncoln, even if we were just voting for one person, she would still be deserving of being in this thing. I’ve seen her on good days and bad ones too, yet she never waivers. She does what needs to be done. She’s that good. She has a very old and very beautiful soul. I love her dearly.” She finishes with a smile then adds, “Sorry. I could have gone on for days. She’s just my best friend, so I had a lot to say.” She laughs.

  I blush and nudge Attie as we watch, “Thanks, girl.”

  “I meant every word,” she smiles, “And there were a lot of them.”

  Back on the television, Knox nods at Attie as if agreeing with her. “I would have to say Lyncoln. His military knowledge is vast. He does more behind the scenes than most people would expect. Half of what he does he can’t even brag about because it’s classified. Other than military-wise, the guy is just out-of-this-world intelligent. We had a discussion about cars once and I was floored that a Denver boy knew anything about engineering or mechanics,” he stops as Dougall and Attie laugh. “You just can’t put Lyncoln in a box. So I’m thankful for a leader like him and even more thankful for all that he does behind the scenes.”

  Lyncoln stifles a laugh, so we all turn to look at him.

  “What?” I ask.

  “The only reason I know anything about cars is because I used to have to go to the shop and work on all of the military vehicles when I got in trouble in training. I either put in extra hours doing that or ran my butt off.” He smiles in the cocky way that only Lyncoln can. “Sometimes both.”

  “You hothead,” Maverick playfully slaps him on the shoulder.

  “Still, dude. You impressed me,” Knox says with a smile. “You’d have thought I was talking to someone from Detroit.”

  “Thanks, Knox. Coming from you that means something. My GPA was nothing to write home about,” Lyncoln smiles with a shrug.

  “It was good enough to get in the Culling,” Knox points out and then the screen switches to Elizabeth and Maverick.

  Attie and I both “oooh” and “ahhh” over Elizabeth in a beautiful deep purple dress.

  Elizabeth laughs. “So you approve?”

  “Definitely,” I nod emphatically.

  I remember a time when I wasn’t as close to Elizabeth because I was intimidated by her good looks. I sure am glad I got over that. I would have missed out on a great friend if I had been that jealous or catty.

  When asked the question about what if they go home, Maverick says with confidence they will stay in Denver. This doesn’t surprise me. He’s practically a genius in biochemistry. It’s because of that very reason we need people like him to stay in Denver and enlighten us with what they know while working hand in hand with our military. He will be a great asset to Denver when he stays. I know Lyncoln has been urging him to stay for a while.

  In the interview, you can plainly see how much these two care about one another. They are a perfect couple. Good looks and brains throughout. If they weren’t such great people, I might have to hate them.

  When asked the question about who they are thankful for, I am surprised to hear my name again.

  “Reagan. She is just… where do I even begin?” Elizabeth takes a deep breath, almost fighting back tears. “Twice she came running when I needed help. The first time I didn’t even really know her, she just saw someone in need and came. She didn’t even hesitate.” She stops as tears fill her eyes, and I know she is thinking of Grady and what could have happened if I hadn’t found them in time. “The Culling can be harsh. Not everyone gets along, but there are people like Reagan who make it worth it. She is a true gem. She has handled the Culling and all it has thrown her with ease, just like she would run the country. I can’t say enough about her. I’m so thankful she’s here. I know without a doubt I wouldn’t still be in this thing without her,” she says honestly.

&
nbsp; I turn to Elizabeth surprised. “Thank you. I wasn’t expecting that, but thank you.”

  “No problem.” She smiles and gives my arm a squeeze. “I can never thank you enough for Grady. Or for the lunch room for that matter.”

  Maverick and Lyncoln exchange a weird look. I make a mental note to ask what happened with Grady. Have they started interrogating him or something?

  Back on the television screen, it’s Maverick’s turn to choose who he’s thankful for. “Lyncoln. Definitely Lyncoln. He is quickly becoming like a brother to me. The dude is smart and quick as a whip but also takes an interest to learn or ask something if he doesn’t know the answer. He does a lot he doesn’t ever get praise for and I think that really speaks to who he is as a person. When no one is looking, he is even more impressive than when someone is. And there are very few people I could say that about. I look forward to working with him in the military in Denver regardless of the results of the Culling,” he smiles with a nod as he finishes.

  What the heck?? Four out of six of them chose us? I didn’t expect this at all.

  “Thanks, guys,” Lyncoln says quietly.

  Our eyes find one another. I give him a look, eyebrows up and head slightly cocked, silently asking if he had a clue this was going to happen. He must know what I’m asking because he shakes his head no, obviously just as stumped as I am.

  “What is going on?” I ask the others as soon as our part has finished playing, which I hardly paid attention to because of what the others said in their portions. “I believe what you said and thank you from the bottom of my heart, but did you guys know about that question?”

  Elizabeth shakes her head no and at the same time Knox says, “No.”

  “I think what happened,” Maverick infers intelligently, “is that Dougall just painted a very large target on her back.”

  “What do you mean?” My brain starts churning a hundred miles a minute as I start to wonder why Dougall asked that particular question. And why she didn’t prep us for it like she normally does.

 

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