Three o'clock came around much quicker than I'd have liked. I'd tried my best to join in with the others, and keep my spirits high, but all I could think about was Four's story about Rita. The poor girl, all she'd wanted was to get rid of Eric, and she'd ended up dead.
At lunch I'd seen Calvin. He'd sat on the end of our table with Lu and all I could do was stare at him. He'd tried to warn me off with the alcohol thing, completely oblivious to the things that Four had also seen concerning Eric and I, I'm sure if he'd known he'd have been beside himself. I couldn't let myself be controlled by Eric, Calvin would eventually realise and I was certain that the pain of losing his close friend would resurface.
When the Leaders left the dining hall, I stared after them, my eyes boring a hole into Eric's back. Surely they would have been concerned about what had happened? Four made it sound as if they didn't care. What if they didn't? They were incredibly ruthless... But I was certain that they didn't condone violence unless it was necessary, and from the way Four had described her, Rita didn't seem like the type of person that would try to kill Eric, only for him to get her instead.
"Jac, it's three." A soft nudge in the ribs, and a whisper from Freddie reminded me that I needed to leave.. And my stomach started to flutter, but not for a good reason.
"Thanks." I got to my feet, and said my goodbyes before heading towards the Pit.
If what I had been told was true, and Eric did want to control me, how would I get out of it? Rebelling against him seemed like a terrible idea, and just doing what I was told would be playing right into his hands. I couldn't win. Not unless I died, or became Factionless, and even then I don't think that I would be winning.
I sighed, and looked up from the floor as I arrived at the entrance to the Pit. Eric was stood towards the back of the room, surrounded by targets, leaning against a table.
His muscular arms were folded firmly across his chest, and he was staring at me. "You're late."
I glanced up at the large clock on the wall. "By two minutes."
"Two minutes longer that I have to be here." He grumbled. "Hurry up."
We started with knife throwing, and I'd tried my hardest to remember the stance that he'd taught me on the first day, and the techniques that Four had taught us. However, as I did this, my mind travelled back to how Eric had grabbed my hips that day and how rough he had been. I shuddered as I realised that grabbing someone roughly wasn't even half of what he was capable of.
"You cold?"
I shook my head. "I'm fine."
He slowly nodded, and I could feel his eyes boring into the side of my face. "Throw again then. Put more power behind it."
I shook out my arms, then positioned myself properly again. I concentrated on the centre of the target, then threw the knife, using more strength. I watched as it hit fairly close to the centre, only off to the left by about an inch.
"That was better." Eric stated and handed me another knife. "Do it again, hit the same spot."
I did as he wanted, and the knife hit the spot a few inches up and to the right of the last one.
"Once more." He ordered, and I took the last knife from him, then threw it. This one bounced off of the target and loudly clattered to the floor. I frowned.
"You weren't trying that time." Eric stated. "Go and collect them."
I didn't argue, just silently walked over to the target and pulled the knives out. "Why are you so concerned with how I rank?" I questioned.
"What?" If I had been looking at him, I would have seen a frown furrow his brows.
"You heard. Why are you concerned with me? You tell me that Talulah won't help me succeed, you make me fight the strongest person in the group when I'm at my weakest, and now you're making me catch up on my knife throwing? I've not seen you pay so much attention to the other initiates."
"I'm not just focusing on you. But as a leader that is overseeing your training, it is my job to help those that aren't working at their full potential."
I frowned. That was bullshit. I was working as hard as I possibly could! "I thought that was Four's job. As you just said, you're a leader... so why not just get him to help me instead?"
"Do you have a problem with me?" Eric questioned, and I turned to look at him. He was staring at me, a knife held tightly in his right hand.
"Other than the fact that you enjoyed watching me getting beaten to a pulp yesterday? No, not at all." I grumbled, surprising myself with the confidence that had arisen in me - something which had happened often over the last few days.
He rolled his eyes. "It's tough love, Jacquetta. You won't get far in Dauntless without it."
I clenched my teeth together. "Do not call me Jacquetta."
"I can call you whatever I like."
I glared at him for a second, then scoffed and dropped the knives on the floor. "I'm done here. I can't even deal with this right now." I stepped over the pile of silver on the floor, and headed towards the exit, fuming at how he wouldn't give me a proper answer, and the way he used my full name.
Suddenly, I felt a whoosh of air and a sharp pain in my upper left arm, before hearing a clang behind me. I let out a loud gasp and paused on the spot, snapping my head down to look at my arm. There was a thin slash across the middle of it, blood slowly rising to the surface. I frowned again, and looked behind me in confusion.
It took a few seconds for me to process what had happened, then my breath caught in my throat, and I stared up at Eric breathlessly.
"Y-you just-"
"-Threw a knife at you." He cut me off and finished the sentence. "Yes I did."
"It cut me!!!" I cried, my right hand coming up to cover the wound.
"I know that. It was meant to." He said, his eyes flicking towards my arm, before meeting mine. He crossed his arms and stared at me. "We're not done, and you most definitely do not just walk out on me."
"So you throw a knife at me?!"
"What did you want me to do? Tackle you?" He muttered.
"You tell me to stop, like a normal person!!" I shouted, my voice a few octaves higher than it should have been, it echoing around the room.
It was silent once the Echo finished... And it remained that way for a few moments.
I stared at Eric, unsure of what to do, and he stared back at me, looking as if he was thinking.
"Come here." He ordered quietly, breaking the silence.
I shook my head. "I'm not going anywhere near you." I spoke through clenched teeth.
He sighed. "I want to look at your arm. Come here."
"No..." I moved my hand a little and looked down at my arm. The deep red blood was spread over my pale skin where I had tried to cover it. "I want you to stay away from me."
He took a few slow steps towards me, and I took one back.
"Jac, I won't hurt you again. Let me look at it." He used my name... And he didn't call me initiate or try to piss me off...
I stared at him again, searching his face to see if he was being sincere or not, and then I realised that I wouldn't be able to tell. I wonder if he did the same thing to Rita before he killed her.
"Jac.."
I frowned, then slowly approached him, my heart thumping.
He reached out, and when I was close enough, he firmly grasped my arm by my elbow and pulled my hand away from it.
I dropped my blood stained hand to my side and stared at him as he analysed the cut. He lifted his spare hand to touch it, and I winced as I felt his fingertip brush along the edge of it. He was being surprisingly gentle.
"I'd say that I'm sorry, but I'm not." He stated, looking up at me. "You have to realise that you can't give up when things get heated, or don't go the way you planned. And if you get cut, you turn around and fight back."
I frowned. "So what? You want me to punch you or something? Rip out a piercing?"
I watched as his jaw tensed. "No, but that's what you should do next time you're in this position."
"Right." I looked down at my arm that he was still holding, his finger tips softly placed a few centimetres away from the slice that he'd caused.
"The cut isn't too deep, but from the looks of it, you're a bleeder. You'll have to get it bandaged." He told me.
"Will it scar?" I questioned.
"Probably."
Great. A permanent reminder of Eric in the form of a scar on my upper arm, just what I wanted for the rest of my life.
"Let me clear up, then I'll walk you to the Infirmary."
"We're done here?"
He nodded. "Your knife skills are actually pretty good, and the firing range is being used right now, so I have nothing else for you to practise."
"So I wasted an afternoon..." I mumbled.
"No. You've definitely improved." He told me.
"Right. Well, at least I'll be able to have a nap before dinner."
"I said we were done here, not that you were free to go."
We left the Infirmary twenty minutes later. Eric had stood impatiently tapping his foot whilst the same middle aged Dauntless woman cleaned and bandaged my arm, then practically dragged me out of the place the second that she was done. If I wasn't so scared of speaking up around him now, I'd have pointed out how rude he was.
I followed him through the compound silently, and he didn't stop to ponder at all for a second. We walked straight past the dining hall, straight past the kitchens, and up into the Dauntless members' accommodation. I'd never been up there before, I'd never had a reason to until now.
I followed Eric up three flights of stairs, before he turned into a corridor and stopped at the fourth door down. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a key, then started to unlock the door.
My heart thumped. I had been scared of being alone with him in a public place, never mind now being alone in a room three flights up.
He pushed open the door, and held it for me, gesturing for me to walk in. I stepped through the door way, and explored the room with my eyes. It was fairly large, with a living area next to the large windows on the right, an arched doorway that looked like it led into a kitchen, and a door to what I assumed to be the bedroom. It was fairly clean, with the exception of the odd shirt slung on the back of a chair and a cup sat on the table, and it was nothing like I expected it to be.
He'd brought me to his apartment.
"Is this yours?" I questioned quietly.
"Yeah." He kicked the door shut with his foot. "I'm hardly here though."
I slowly nodded and looked over my shoulder at him.
"I thought it could do with a change though." He told me. "No one would've offered to help me paint, so you're going to."
I frowned. "So part of my punishment is painting your apartment?"
He nodded and walked into the kitchen, before returning with a pot of paint, and a paint brush. He handed them to me, then nodded at the wall where the door was. "Get started then."
I looked down at the items that he'd just handed me. "Are you not helping?"
"I've got a meeting." He told me, and it had almost escaped my mind that he was a leader. In fact, I'd forgotten everything the moment that I'd stepped into his apartment. I'd even forgotten about poor Rita and I shuddered. I didn't want to be his slave, and I didn't want to spend the next few hours painting his walls for him, but I also didn't want to speak out and have people find my body at the bottom of the Chasm tomorrow morning.
"You're leaving me here alone?"
He blinked at me. "Yeah..."
"How do you know I won't steal something?" There was that surprise confidence again..
He rolled his eyes. "You wouldn't dare."
I shrugged. "I guess I wouldn't..."
"Right. Well, no one should come up, so you won't have any surprise visitors, and help yourself to a drink, nothing more." He told me, then walked towards the door.
"How long will you be?" I asked quietly.
"As long as it takes." He answered, then gave me one last look before leaving and shutting the door behind him.
I put the painting equipment on the floor, then sighed. I almost felt as if I was being held against my will... I wanted to get out of here and be with the other initiates, but I knew I had to be here, or Eric might lose his temper again.
I stared at the wall I would be painting and frowned. The lazy ass should do it himself.. But that didn't seem likely to happen at all.
I sighed, and grabbed the equipment, placing it on the table. I yanked the lid off of the paint, the sore spot on my arm pounding as I did so, then picked the brush up and decided to get a move on. The quicker this got done, the quicker I'd be able to escape the wrath of Eric.
As I was painting, a few photographs sat on the table caught my eye. I wandered over and carefully used one finger to spread them out so I could take a look. The first one was of a young man and an older woman, and it took me a few seconds to realise that the man was Eric. He looked different in this picture, with no piercings and no visible tattoos. I looked closer at the woman beside him, and I almost gasped when I realised who she was. It was Professor Karen Mathewson, she worked with my Father in the labs in Erudite... She must be his Mother, they looked alike. I couldn't believe I'd never known that she had a son. The second photo was of a young redhead that looked about my age. She was laid on a bed on her stomach, in shorts and a vest, which had rolled up to reveal her lower back. She looked as if she was laughing at something behind the camera, a large open-teeth smile on her face. The next photograph was similar, of the redhead again in the same scene, just closer. She had her hand up, and it looked like she was trying to stop the photographer, still laughing. The photo beneath this one was clearly taken by her. She was smiling at the camera, stood with Eric, his arm around her shoulders, looking down at her with a smile on his face. His smile looked genuine, and even with all the piercings and tattoos, he looked less intimidating. The last photograph surprised me. The redhead was stood in the Pit with her arms slung around another Dauntless man. It was Calvin. He had a grin on his face, and his arms around the woman's waist, as she kissed his cheek. Why would Eric have this photo? It took me a moment to realise that I had never seen this woman around the compound. Where was she? Was it Rita?
He returned about an hour later, startling me, as well as saving my skin. I'd been stood on one of the stalls from his kitchen, trying to reach the top of the wall, when he entered the room. The sound of the door had made me jump, and I'd span to look at him, before losing my balance and letting out a loud screech as I fell backwards. Luckily for me, he'd been quick enough to grab me, and I'd landed safely (or not so safely..) in his arms.
"It's becoming ridiculous how often you're getting close to being injured." He stated, staring down at me.
I caught my breath as I looked up at him, before trying to wriggle away from him. "Yeah well, they've all been your fault." I answered bluntly.
He raised an eyebrow and clearly tried to suppress a smirk as he placed me on my feet. "Nothing like a bit of danger to keep someone awake."
I stared at him, fighting the urge to tell him how much of a psychopath he was.
He looked up at the wall. "Not a bad job."
I twisted my head to look at the chocolate-brown coloured wall that I had been painting. "I couldn't reach the top..."
"I can see that." He muttered, then picked up the brush from where I had dropped it when I fell. The wooden floor had a big blob of brown paint on it. "Go and find a cloth from the cupboard in the corner of the kitchen and wipe that up."
I nodded and did as I was told.
When I returned with a cloth, he was painting the top of the wall, where I had been unable to reach. I knelt beside him, and quickly wiped the floor, hoping that it wouldn't stain.
As I clambered to my feet again, the photos caught my eye once more. I put the cloth on the table, then picked up the photos and looked through them once more.
"Who's in these pictures?" I questioned casually.
I heard Eric hurriedly approach me, then the photos were snatched out of my hand. "Get out."
I looked at my now empty hands, then up at Eric, who was ferociously glaring at me. "I.. What?" My voice was barely a whisper.
"Get out!" He raised his voice, and my heart started to thump again, as it did every time he did something that scared me. I quickly nodded and walked towards the door in silence.
I looked back over my shoulder before pulling open the door, to see him hunched over the table, the photographs splayed out in front of him.
It was seconds after I shut the door, that I heard a loud crash on the other side of it, and jumped, my eyes widening.
How had I managed to upset him? All I wanted to know was who was in the photographs?
It wasn't until I'd gotten halfway down the stairs that it hit me. I'd actually managed to piss him off and get away with it. He hadn't tried to kill me or something ridiculous like I thought he would.
"What are you doing up here initiate?" A voice pulled me out of my thoughts, and I looked up to see Four stood a few steps down.
"I eh- Eric wanted me to do something as part of my punishment."
Four's eyes narrowed and he slowly nodded. "Get back to the other initiates now, I don't want to find you up here without an official Dauntless member again, okay?"
I nodded and continued walking down the stairs.
"Where is Eric anyway?" Four questioned.
"In his apartment.. he's in a bad mood." I said, then continued on my way before Four could question it anymore.