Within These Walls

Chapter 18

"Marcus," I begin, "I know what happened to Rudolph is hard for you to accept. But if you really didn't mean to kill him, that makes it an accident. It's not—"

"No," he cuts me off. "You don't get to stand there and patronize me. You think I would say this for no reason? That these Takers have messed with my body somehow and turned me into some kind of freak?"

"Then you must realize how crazy this sounds." How crazy you sound.

He makes a disgusted noise. "I should've known you'd be no help."

"This isn't my fault."

"Yeah. Whatever you say." He gestures behind me. "Just go back to bed."

"So why did you drag me out here?" I ask, irritated. I doubt it's because he needs reassurance or solace.

No. What he needs is confirmation, something I can't offer him.

Not without proof.

"It was a mistake," he replies. "For all your so-called smarts, you have a hard time understanding the simplest things."

Now I'm really pissed off, something Marcus is quite adept at making me feel. It makes what I'm about to attempt a whole lot easier.

"I'm not the one with delusions of grandeur," I say, matching his hostile tone. "I'm not the one trying to terrorize people and murder them, and most importantly, I'm not the one who thinks so highly of herself that I believe I'm beyond human capability."

Marcus seems surprised by my outburst. That lasts about two seconds before fury flickers in the depths of his black eyes. "Only because you're happy settling for being average."

"At least I'm honest with myself. I don't have to put on an act to get people to like me."

He leans in close to my face, jaw tight. "Walk away, Rose. Right now."

That only makes me dig my heels in deeper. "You're a jerk, you know that? Everyone is too scared to tell you this, but the truth is that you're so full of—"

I see the moment when he snaps. I go tense all over, expecting him to strike me. Instead he spins away from me and slams his fist into the wall next to the bathroom. The concrete surface caves around his fist in an explosion that creates a deep dent. When his hand moves away, little chunks of stone fall to the floor.

I'm stunned into silence.

He really did it. He broke concrete with his fist.

Marcus opens his hand and rubs the back of it. Other than some redness on his knuckles, he's fine. The blow didn't even break skin. A surprised laugh bursts from his mouth. "I don't believe this."

I lean against the wall behind me, weak now that the adrenaline is fading. I don't believe it either. No amount of logic will explain this one away.

"I was right," he says.

"I won't argue with you on that," I reply weakly.

"They did do something to me. How's this even possible?"

I shrug, still trying to process it.

"You were taunting me on purpose, weren't you?" he asks. "All those things you said. You were trying to get a reaction out of me. To see if I'd get angry and become strong again."

He's right, of course, but I'm surprised he figured it out. "What makes you say that?"

He smirks. "You're a runner, not a fighter."