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No matter how fast PJ ran, she couldn’t get away from Judge or the feelings welling up in her the more she got to know him. Feelings she shouldn’t be having for a recruit. Feelings she shouldn’t—couldn’t—act on without risking both of their lives.
Her gut told her to get him out of TCW now. Before he became too embroiled in whatever Augustus was planning. The gospel TCW preached instilled distrust and hatred for all things government. They urged a call to action to save the country from corruption perpetrated by politicians, billionaires and big businesses with deep pockets.
The younger recruits were quickly assimilated into the fold. The older ones took longer to come around but were then manipulated by threatening the people they cared most about.
PJ had seen through their propaganda from day one, pretending to buy into their bullshit to stay alive.
Her heart ached for the young people who’d been stolen from their families and cried in the night, eventually losing all hope of ever going home.
She despaired of the damage being done to the foster kids abducted and brought into the fold who had no relatives and welcomed becoming a part of the TCW family, where they were accepted as equals and treated the same as everyone else. What would happen to them when TCW imploded after losing their revered leader? How would they be reprogrammed to assimilate into a society they’d been led to mistrust?
These worries had plagued her since she’d been abducted and forced to join TCW. The only time she’d broken the rules had been when she’d helped Fly and her daughter escape. But there were so many more who deserved a chance to leave.
The man who’d kissed her so passionately on that ridge needed to go. Deep down, PJ knew he wasn’t a bad person. He didn’t belong in TCW.
Twice, he’d saved her from harm. First when the hatchet had bounced back at her and once when she’d nearly fallen backward off the ridge.
He’d helped the kid when he’d cut his hand on his throwing knife, making sure he got treatment for his wound.
Why was he really there?
PJ couldn’t see him as one of Augustus or Tiberius’s minions, doing what they wanted him to do without questioning their motives.
As she lay in her bunk that night, listening to the sound of Judge breathing steadily above her, she ached so badly for what could never be.
She would never have the luxury of making love with him into the night and falling asleep in his arms. They would never walk hand in hand and stop to steal a kiss on a beach in the moonlight. Why were her feelings for this virtual stranger so strong that they manifested into physical pain?
She’d left a bad situation, vowing never to give her heart to another man. Now, she was well on her way to falling for the first man who’d been nice to her since coming to TCW.
It was useless to dream about him. Even if TCW dissolved tomorrow and Augustus died in a car accident, that didn’t change who PJ had become.
Gone was the innocent woman who’d only wanted to be loved and cherished, not beaten and belittled. Her time with TCW had taught her that she could do more than she’d been led to believe by her ex-boyfriend. She’d increased her strength and ability to protect herself. But her exploits as an assassin meant she could never marry a nice man or have children of her own. She’d always live in fear of being charged with murder and spending the rest of her life in jail.
She’d have to keep her secrets, withholding crucial information from someone she loved. No man would understand the omission of such a heinous act. And having children she might never see as she rotted behind bars would break her heart.
She finally fell into a fitful sleep in the small hours of the morning, waking with a start when reveille played on the loudspeaker.
PJ rolled out of her bunk at the same time as Judge dropped to the ground. PJ slammed into Judge and would have fallen, but for his hand reaching out to steady her.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine.” For someone who’ll likely rot in jail if I live past assassinating Augustus.
She pulled on her boots and headed out of the barracks to perform her morning ablutions over the outdoor sink.
Judge appeared beside her, bent to splash water on his face and brushed his teeth.
Recruits, trainers and leaders converged on the mess hall for breakfast.
As Judge entered, he glanced around the room, his brow furrowing.
PJ looked out at the sea of faces. “Are you looking for someone?”
His lips twisted, his frown deepening. “I didn’t see Mud yesterday, and I don’t see him now. He must be in the other barracks. I’m worried about him. His cut was pretty deep. It could be infected.”
Wiley cleared his throat loudly to get the attention of everyone in the room. “Remember, today is indoctrination day. All training will be held on the bleachers after breakfast. It’s mandatory, with no exceptions.”
PJ ate, though she wasn’t really hungry. Her stomach churned. She hated indoctrination day. Tiberius spent hours listening to himself expound the virtues of The Chosen Way and why they should all be proud of being chosen to represent and further their cause. It was worse than any long-winded sermon she’d had to endure as a child in grownup church when she’d rather have been playing in the sunshine.
