“I know we’ve killed people to protect ourselves. I killed a lot of people down in the Underground when I caused that explosion. But look at the cost,” Ava stated firmly. “I paid the price for what I did, and if you keep going down this path you’re on, you’re going to have your own consequences to face.”
“You aren’t in that chair because you killed Jaymin and all the bastards who were trying to kill us. You’re there because I failed to protect you. That situation never should’ve happened.”
“But you’re trying to change the past by resorting to violence now. No matter how many lives you take, it’s not going to make me walk again.”
I brought my legs to my chest and draped my arms over my knees as I said, “I can’t change the past, but I can stop things from getting worse. No one’s gonna touch you, pidge. Not ever again.”
She didn’t say anything more, but I let my thoughts flow freely to her across our bond so she’d understand. If we were in danger, we had to do everything we could to teach the people around us we wouldn’t be threatened without delivering the ultimate price. What had happened in the Underground couldn’t happen again. We wouldn’t survive it next time. So if other people had to die in order to prevent that fate, so be it.
At least Ava would be safe.
CHAPTEREIGHT
AVA-MARIE
“Charlie, this isn’t right.”
I dug through my bag before we left for class. A pill bottle sat on the dresser, nearly empty. My throat got tighter and tighter as I rummaged through the backpack, yet didn’t find what I needed.
“What’s wrong?” Charlie asked as he tugged his sweater over his head.
“Some of my pills are missing,” I said. “I had three yesterday, but there’s only one left.”
“That’s not enough to get you through today,” Charlie said. “We need to get a refill.”
“We can’t tell Doctor Marsh I lost them,” I moaned. “I’ll get into trouble.”
Inmates were required to obtain pills from the nursing station every morning, and weren’t allowed access to them otherwise. The infirmary had made a once-in-a-lifetime exception for me, because there were so many different pain medications I had to take now, on such a frequent basis, that it was easier for both the medical staff and for me to keep them on hand at all times, instead of making multiple trips to the nursing station every day.
Except I’d been told that if I got caught selling or otherwise distributing the pills, it’d be an instant trip to Cellblock 9. They wouldn’t believe me if I said I lost them.
“I’ll have to suck it up until they give me another refill tomorrow,” I said tiredly. “There’s no other way. I’ll take half instead of the full dose.”
Charlie frowned, and I rubbed my eyes. “I must’ve misplaced them. I hate that I’m so careless.”
“You’ve been through a lot. It’s okay to forget things,” Charlie said. “We’ll just have to keep better track of them next time.”
“Okay.” It helped that he was so understanding. Charlie was always patient with me.
Oberi lay on the bed as a husky. His voice was flat as he said,Perhaps you didn’t misplace them. Someone might’ve taken a few out of your bag.
“I wouldn’t put it past the assholes at this place,” Charlie grumbled.
I shook my head. “No. It’s probably just me being brainless again, like always.”
I’d been in a weird place mentally. I wasn’t exactly depressed, or sad, but it was hard for me to focus like I could before. I was in a fog all the time.
Oberi let out a huff.Charlie, I need to speak with you—
“We’re already running late. There’s no time,” I said. “You guys can talk later.”
The compass sat on the bedside table following another failed attempt to get it to work last night. After a long struggle with my intuition, I received the feeling I wasn’t supposed to use the compass until I was spirituallypromptedby the device. Trying to force it to work wouldn’t lead anywhere. Until I had a sense of inspiration driving me to the compass, I wasn’t meant to use it to help us.
It went against all logic and my determination to get out of here. But I’d found that my intuition had grown even stronger since my return from the afterlife, and it wasn’t like the Ancestral Lands made any sense, anyhow. I’d have to go against logic and follow my heart if I wanted this compass to work right, and for the moment, Lindsey and Miranda didn’t have any messages for me.
We passed Kyle in the hallway. He saw us coming and quickly hurried out of the way, having no desire to provoke Charlie further. He’d seen what Charlie could do in the heat of anger, and Deuce had paid the price for it by ending up in Cellblock 9.
I should’ve been concerned about Charlie’s lack of empathy… how casually he’d lied and said it was Deuce who had ended the warlock’s life, and not him. I should’ve been more bothered that I hadn’t flinched as I’d watched my husband take the life of another inmate.
