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“Good. At least you feel something for me.” He grins, and I swear I could get whiplash from how fast his moods change sometimes.
“Where are you going?” I ask before I can stop the words from coming out.
He pauses, his hand on the doorknob. He doesn’t look back at me as he speaks. “Leaving. You don’t want to fuck, and you aren’t willing to share anything about Brittney, so I have no reason to be here.”
I feel slimy, used, and when he opens the door a moment later, I let him walk out. I guess, in a way, it’s better that he makes me feel like shit because if he didn’t, I’d have this false sense of hope that things might work out differently. They won’t; they never do. I’m a release to him, and he’s a protector for me. Nothing else but those things matter, and I need to remember that. Good thing he’s plenty good at reminding us both.
27
QUINTON
The cold Alaskan air whisks around us while we wait on the side of the helicopter pad for our families to arrive. Thank god, my busted lip healed up in time. I didn’t want Scarlet to see it and think something bad had happened. Not that she hadn’t seen a bruised lip or black and blue eye a time or two. I was more worried about explaining myself to her.
After being cooped up underground most of the time, I appreciate the sun on my skin even though the cold is seeping through my thick jacket and into my bones.
Ren is standing beside me, staring straight ahead into the vast forest surrounding us.
“You think someone could survive out there?” he asks, never taking his eyes off the forest.
I shrug. “Sure, with the right gear.”
“What about right now? What if we were to be dropped off dead in the center with nothing more than what’s on us at the moment. You think we would survive?”
I make a quick check of what I’m wearing and what’s in my pockets. A knife is tucked away in my boot, but besides that, I have nothing on me. My clothes are warm enough for now, but probably not to survive a night. I’d have to build a shelter, definitely a fire, plus hunt for food, but I think I could manage.
“We could make it, but I really hope that’s just theoretical because I hate the cold.”
“Same.” Ren chuckles. “And yes, theoretical. Not planning on going on a survival trip any time soon.”
We both look up simultaneously when the sound of an approaching helicopter fills the air. We hear them a few minutes before the helicopter breaks through the thick cloud, descending to where we are rapidly. The mirth that fills my chest cavity at the appearance of that helicopter is astounding. I’m more afraid now than I’ve ever been about losing Scarlet or my parents, and flying on a plane to Alaska would be the perfect opportunity for one of our enemies to swoop in.
Thankfully, my fears are just that, fears, and the helicopter lands smoothly at the center of the helipad. Not even a second later, the door opens. My father gets out first, his graying hair whipping around as he helps my mother out of the helicopter. As soon as her feet touch the ground, she looks up, her eyes darting around until they zero in on me.
Not many people are out here, waiting for their families to arrive, but there are enough for us to behave a certain way. We learned at a young age that we have to keep affection to a minimum in public, which is probably what my father is whispering into Scarlet’s ear right now after she basically jumped out of the helicopter and into his arms. He sets her down in front of him and straightens her jacket, then waves her off like she is a perpetual child.
For all the hate I harbor for my father, this is one thing I can’t hold against him. Even though he acts like this in public, he’s always treated my sisters with nothing but love when we are inside the comfort of our home. Ren’s family does the same, but I know for a fact, others are not that lucky.
Scarlet and my mother keep their heads bowed as they trail my father while walks toward us. Ren simply nods to them and makes his way toward the helicopter to greet his parents, Roman and Sophie, and his sister, Luna.
“Quinton,” my father greets me, but I don’t respond. All I want to do is hug the two women behind him, but I force myself not to and turn and start walking away from them.
“I’ll show you where you will be staying.”
I don’t look back, knowing they are following me, and I feel my father’s gaze at the back of my head. As we pass other students along the way, their eyes go wide. Some take a step back, cowering at my father’s presence, while others simply stand in place frozen with fear. No one says anything. There are no greetings or pleasantries, and I’m fucking glad for it.
