Page 83 of Anarchy Chained: Alpha Thomas

Uzi does not miss this little interaction. Neither does Cyan.

But I ignore them both. I don’t feel the same way about them since they got me back. I don’t know why. I can’t explain it. But things are just different.

I feel more connected to Molly and Sullivan right now than I do to Cyan and Uzi. The rational part of me understands that it’s because of the mind blast Thomas threw at me back at the asylum. God, that feels like lifetimes ago. It flipped something off. Or maybe it flipped something on. It doesn’t really matter. I know this is the reason I’m having a hard time connecting to my sister and friends.

But there’s another part of me that thinks it’s because they’re wrong about things. These Alphas, mostly. Thomas wasn’t a bad guy. Not to me. He helped me a lot. And that sex in the shower. Good God.

And I actually like Sullivan a lot. It’s weird to think that, considering I first met him when he had me naked and tied to a table. But damn, it was kinda hot. I almost wish he’d do it again.

Sullivan chuckles across the room. Oops. I think he just read my mind.

“Drink?” Lincoln calls out. He’s still got his back to us as he finishes pouring. I can see the cannon he’s got attached to his arm and I absently wonder how much that thing weighs. His arms are definitely big enough to carry it. He’s bigger than Uzi, and Uzi is built like a tank.

I let out a breath, feeling a little relieved at that thought. It occurs to me that I’m… afraid of Uzi. Just a little. But that’s more than enough. He’s powerful. And intimidating. I don’t like it. Iziah is built like Uzi, but he has none of the attitude. Iziah is calm and rational. Uzi is hot-tempered and angry.

Sullivan is built. His body is well-muscled and perfect. But he’s not a tank. He’s more like a sophisticated rifle, if I want to keep the weapon comparison.

All the men take drinks and stand there sipping for a few moments. Sizing each other up.

Cyan walks over to me and Molly. She takes my hand. “Come sit with me, Sade.”

I dutifully follow her over to a couch and we sit. Molly wanders over to Lincoln and he slips his non-weaponized arm around her waist.

They know each other, I realize. That move was well choreographed. She knew which side of him to stand on. He knew she wanted him to claim her with that display of affection.

It makes my heart hurt a little. Every time Uzi has tried to show me affection since I woke up, it was unwanted. But he didn’t care. He did it anyway.

Lincoln knows how to read Molly.

Uzi has no idea how to read me.

“So,” Lincoln says, looking at Sullivan. “Who’s the new crew, Thomas?”

Can’t he see he’s not Thomas? Because I can see so clearly. Sullivan and Thomas are almost nothing alike inside.

“They saved our asses down in the tunnel,” Sullivan replies. “We were on the train car, heading towards the west tower so we could make our way up here and sort some shit out. But then…”

Then I fucked things up with that little… whatever it was.

“Then someone took over the grid or something. We lost power and the gates—”

“Shit,” Lincoln says, obviously seeing where this is going.

“Yeah, we almost got split in half. Sadie and I were pretty fucked up after the crash. And we were on the wrong side of the gate. But then the cavalry came in the form of these two.” Sullivan motions to Uzi and Iziah with his drink. “And they…” He stops and I wonder what he’ll say about the fact that they starved him for weeks. “They saved us.” Skips right over that little nugget of unfortunate truth.

“Well,” Lincoln says. “We owe you then.”

“That’s how I see it too,” Uzi says. He and Iziah are standing shoulder to shoulder across from Lincoln, Molly and Sullivan.

“So what can I help you with?” Lincoln asks.

Uzi nods his head to Sullivan. “Tell him,” he says.

“Well,” Sullivan says, looking at Uzi. “It’s a long story. You see, my friends don’t even know half of what you know about me.”

Uzi narrows his eyes at Sullivan. “Do not play games with me, asshole.”

“I’m not,” Sullivan says, putting his hands up like he’s innocent. “They have no clue I’m a mentalist.”