False Gods | The Prime Archives #3 ✓

twenty-one

"It's not funny," he grumbled while wetting his thumb. "Why won't it come off?!"

"I told you not to use so much toothpaste," Isra chastised.

"Yeah, yeah." The boy's eyes perked up as he passed by Chase. "Oh, hey, fearless leader. How'd you sleep?"

He shrugged. "Better than I've slept in a while."

"You can say that again," Isra said. She stretched her arms before twirling around on one foot. "I haven't had this much energy in forever. Those beds were real comfy."

Chase smiled and nodded. "Yeah, they were." He glanced over his shoulder and to the kitchen at the end of the hall. He saw Emily, Andre, and Victor making themselves plates of food from the immaculate spread being presented on the massive marble island. Platters of eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes, toast, and fruit were arranged in an orderly fashion. Pitchers of juice adorned the entire setup, along with stacks of plates and rows of clear glasses.

Chase's stomach growled again.

"Go get your breakfast, guys," he told Isra and Archie. "I'll be right behind you."

"You better hurry up," Archie warned him.

"Yeah," Isra added. "Andre's gonna eat all the bacon if you don't join us soon."

He turned his head to see Andre stuffing his face with strips of greasy bacon. He didn't look ashamed. Not one bit. The guy could eat an entire farm if someone dared him to.

While Isra pushed Archie down the hall, Chase entered the bathroom and grabbed a toothbrush wrapped in plastic film. He opened it, applied a dab of paste to the bristles, and stuck it in his mouth. As he brushed his teeth and stared at himself in the mirror, he noted how Pearce Shaw had really thought of everything.

He was truly taking care of them.

It was almost as if they had never left The Acropolis. In a way, they were all his surrogate children. Chase rinsed his mouth and left the bathroom. As he entered the kitchen, he realized he hadn't seen anyone else in the mansion apart from his group.

No wife, no small children roaming about. Not even a butler.

Pearce Shaw was alone. Utterly and hopelessly alone.

His daughter, Victoria, didn't leave with him when he was removed from Atlas. She opted to stay behind to help usher in the new recruits. Though, it wasn't like she and her old man had the strongest of relationships in the first place. Pearce and Victor had been estranged for nearly a decade. There practically was no relationship between them anymore.

And his wife... She had been dead for a long time.

Pearce Shaw truly had no one.

Chase couldn't begin to think about how lonely he must have felt since leaving The Acropolis. A pang of sorrow burrowed into his heart.

He started to think showing up at the man's lake house might have been a blessing in disguise. But not for them. For Pearce. Isolation wasn't good for anyone. Loneliness could drive even the sanest men to the brink of insanity. Everyone needed company sometimes.

Chase's eyes flickered over to Victor for a split moment.

Even if they didn't want to admit it.

That was why Chase valued his group so much. They were more than just a band of refugees fleeing Atlas. They were more than just Primes that the world desperately wanted to control. They were a collective. A tight-knit community. A family brought together by hardship, shared experiences, and—most of all—love for each other.