The Rouges

n i n e

THE UNFORTUNATE PART of caring about a person other than yourself, is that you become tethered to that someone. Suddenly every action you make has double the consequences, which not only affect yourself, but that other person as well.

I hated that feeling.

I have never had to think about anyone else before. Since the day my parents died, I have only had to think about my own survival. But now there were two of us to think about. I couldn't even say what made me feel so protective of Mouse. Maybe it was that she reminded me of myself, a small child alone in the world. Not the me now, but the little girl who died that day in the alley with her parents. That little girl.

Maybe it was the way she exuded innocence, the way a child should. Maybe it was the way she looked at people with trusting eyes. The way she turned to me for protection, even though I was not the most trustworthy person. Still she looked to me for security, clung to my side when she was frightened. Mouse looked at me like I was a better person, and for her sake I wanted to be.

I just wasn't sure I could be.

Some things that are broken stay broken. There is no putting the pieces back together.

The dreams still haunted me every morning. Nothing could change that. Even with the tiny, fragile body sleeping beneath my cot, a fresh scream caught in my throat choking me awake every day. Those dreams reminded me why I didn't want to get close to others. Why I had chosen to be a recluse. After starting awake I would stare at the vent hidden behind Arden's bed. Plans would form and my legs would itch for freedom.

Then the tiny hand would creep over the edge of my bed and I would stay.

We had found an odd rhythm to our days in captivity. A small part of me felt comfort in the routine. Every day was new, but the expectancies were the same— eat, work, divulge my secrets, eat, work, sleep. Each day moved like the consistent tick of my father's pocket watch. That's why when I awoke this morning I knew something was different.

When I jolted from my bed I could feel the room was different, that something was off. Even in the dark, I could feel it. Searching the barren room, my eyes lit on Arden's bed.

It was empty.

I had heard him come in after lights out. I was sure of it.

Wasn't I?

After working long days with Triven, I had begun to sleep too hard. I didn't hear as much as I should have. A month ago I would have heard a moth's wings and now I couldn't remember whether or not a man had walked just three feet from me.

Matters only got worse when the lights came on. His bed was made. No, he did not sleep here last night.

As the footsteps came down the hall, the accusing words were out of my mouth before Triven could walk in.

"What have you done with Arden?"

No, not Triven.

Every nerve stood at attention as Maddox's black eyes leered at me. I moved between him and Mouse, shielding her from his view.

"What, not happy to see your old friend?" Maddox taunted.

"Where is Arden?" I asked again.

"You'll find out soon enough."

Moving with surprising speed he grabbed my upper arm and yanked me against his chest, lifting me painfully, until my face was inches from his.

"Reckoning time has come." His breath smelled foul.

I wanted to punch him. Break his nose and laugh as the blood poured down his chin. But Mouse was watching, her tiny feet shuffling behind us. I swallowed to keep from spitting in his smug face.