Iris~~
"Harder."
I punch Jae-yeon in the stomach, right where he wants me to. I do it again and again and again. If I stop . . .
And I do. I try raising my hand, but it won't move from my side. Jae-yeon and I are alone in the gym, and I can't move.
He steps toward me, placing his hand on my arm. "You really ought to try harder. After all the work I've put into you, it's the least you can do." His fingers dig into my skin. "You're going to have to do better than that. The Society isn't going to show you mercy if they find us."
"I wasn't expecting them to."
"Were you expecting it from me?" With a careful twist of my arm and a kick to my legs, he sends me to the ground. "It's concerningly easy to take you down."
I don't remember the room being on fire. I don't remember it starting to burn, but the gym around us is engulfed in flames.
"Jae-yeon," I plead. "Jae-yeon, we have to get out."
The room fills with smoke, and I cough.
Jae-yeon doesn't seem effected at all. He rolls me over and pins my arms to the mat. His brown eyes darken until his eyes are all black and no white. He leers down at me. "You're not going anywhere. Your time's up."
I scream, the flames running along the wood panels of the floor toward us. I thrash against his hold.
He smiles, his black hair falling across his forehead.
My begging does no good, and I scream louder as the fire reaches me.
I twist and kick, darkness all around me. I keep screaming—a mixture of nos and pleases coming out in hoarse breaths.
There's a bang and then a rattle, and a light flicks on, Erik and Brydan standing in the doorway. My sheet and comforter are twisted together and spread across the bed like a snake.
"What's wrong?" Erik comes to the side of the bed. Brydan stays in the doorway. His gaze flicks between us, and he scratches his arm.
I sit up, pulling my knees to my chin. I don't understand. Jae-yeon's been out of my dreams for so long. Why now?
Erik reaches a hand toward me, and I scoot away.
"Don't touch me."
He snatches his hand back.
My face is wet, my body sticky.
Erik nods at Brydan who without a word leaves, closing the door behind him. I can't believe I woke him up; I'm so far from being the perfect uninvited house guest right now.
Erik hesitates before taking a seat at the edge of the mattress. The weight of him on it causes me to lean toward him as the mattress shifts.
"What happened?"
"Just a bad dream."
"About?"
I tighten my grip on my legs. "It was a bad dream." Shouldn't he understand that means I don't want to talk about it?
"A lot of people have bad dreams. They don't usually cause a person to scream loud enough to wake the whole household."
I gnaw on my cheek, not looking at him. "It's private."
"I'm not letting this go. You didn't give me a real answer about how you took down those Veil."
I sniff, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "His name was Jae-yeon. They moved him to my orphanage when I was fifteen."
"Orphanage?"
"My parents died when I was born."
It's like I can see the pieces fall into place for him.
"You said your dad taught you how to shoot."
"One of the directors of the orphanage. He was the closest thing I had to a dad."
"That means—"
"I'm not a rebel. I didn't pursue that path." Even though I've been waiting for the chance to get revenge on the Society. He doesn't need to know that.
"Who was Jae-yeon though?"
"Someone who only ever knew the orphanages."
Erik looks down, his fingers picking at the sheet. "Was his name originally only a letter?" In Elleany, the orphanages assign names to children who don't have one when they arrive, but they aren't the most creative. They use a letter of the alphabet. It doesn't matter if the orphanage trains rebels or not. Jay-yeon was given the name J. Once he began learning of his Korean ancestry, he wanted to change his name. He knew it wasn't a perfect match to J, but he liked it too much not to use it.
At least I already had my name when I arrived. The only thing I had of my parents.
I pull my knees to my chest. "He loved tormenting me."
"Did he hurt you?"
I take up picking at the sheet too. "He trained me."
"And?"
I meet his eyes, letting him see the pain and many more emotions. Mainly pain though. And sadness. "He pushed me harder than anyone else. He constantly brought up my Expiration Date."
Erik slides his hand toward me but stops, like he thinks better of it, and draws it back to him. "That's what your nightmare was about?"
"Yeah." If I'm going to help him—change—the Society, he needs to know what it was his family did. "Well half of it."
He quirks an eyebrow.
I close my eyes and let the truth out; that his family burnt my orphanage down. That his family killed the directors. As I say the story out loud for the first time, I realize how much I needed to tell someone, even if it is the Society. The story brings back the tears, but explaining how it felt to watch the flames overtake the building and to hear Kirk's and Lilyana's screams is a release. He doesn't seem surprised by my story, and when he asks why I didn't go with the other orphans after the fire, I dodge the question.
"If they were here right now, they would see me as a hero because I lived." I run my hand over the bandage. "I don't feel like much of a hero. I just feel breakable now."
"You're a hero in distress."
I tilt my head. "What? I'm not pretty enough to be a damsel?" I'd wink but I know that I'll fail horribly if I try.
"I'm not saying that." He smiles, and it makes him look less grown up, like he isn't about to have the weight of a country thrust on him or that he didn't kill someone earlier. "I think that you might be too great to not be a hero. You just need help sometimes."
"So, you're my sidekick then?" I punch his arm lightly; it's the first time we've had contact tonight. He frowns, not the reaction I was going for.
"I'm a villain who wants to be good but knows he's going to fail."
I sit on my knees and face him. "Erik . . ." I want to tell him that's not the case, but a part of me believes he's right.
From downstairs, Brydan says something. I don't know what. I can't make it out. I'm not sure what he said really matters. What matters is that he says something. Brydan lives alone.
What matters even more is that someone answers back.
Immediately, I look for an escape. The room Brydan set me up in has no windows, the closet has shelves that keep someone from squeezing inside. There's not even a bathroom attached to the room. The only way in and out is the door that leads to the hall.
The alarm clock says 3:25 AM.
I keep my voice low, "Is Brydan in the habit of having late night visitors?"
Erik is like a statue perched on my bed.
"Erik?"
He gets off the bed and ducks down. "Damn it."
"What?"
"We can't fit under it."
"Do you know who it is?"
He straightens, staring down at me with a far-off look. "I think I've killed you."
Well, that's comforting.
I get off the bed, positioning myself on the other side of the room from him. "Who. Is. It?"
He runs his hand over his face and mutters about how he left all the weapons in his room.
"Erik."
"Did you have to have a nightmare?" he snaps. "You've trapped us."
I blink, my heart racing as I register how terrified he is. "Who the hell is downstairs?"
"My cousin."
"Which one?" I grimace. "You kind of have a lot."
"Jonas."