Brock has made himself useful, setting up more air humidifiers and closing the automatic blinds on every window. They’re dark tinted, but it doesn’t hurt to be extra cautious.
No one was able to see inside before, and we had a glorious view of Los Angeles. But now, he draws the blinds for his own peace of mind.
I study a bottle of suppressants we stole, and I almost laugh at the label.
“Fucking expired,” I mumble, as Brock and Dylan pause and turn to me. “The suppressants we got were fucking expired.”
“Oh great, so you risked our lives for nothing,” Brock says, plugging in another fan. Then, he opens a box from a luxury department store.
“What’s that?” Dylan asks Brock as he sets up the items on different surfaces of the living room.
“Um, candles. You know, to help with the scents.”
I raise my eyebrow as he lights each one. “Candles.” I deadpan.
He scowls at me. “Yes,candles.”
I put my head in my hands. “Fuck me,” I mutter.
We really don’t know what we’re doing.
* * *
The waiting game continues.
As usual, my anxiety turns to obsession.
I study her. I stand in the doorway and watch her sleep, the even rise and fall of her chest comforting me.
Eventually, I enter the loft near her room and switch on the news.
And suddenly, I’m very glad she’s asleep.
More footage fromEdenwas leaked.
This time, an Omega attacked a guard as she tried to push past a celebrity. Security shocked her with a stun gun.
“What the fuck?” I mutter, my anger building.
I knew aboutEdenbefore they even built it.
It’s one reason I left the military—besides my emotional outbursts.
I even warned Brock and Dylan, but Brock thought it was a good idea.
The bastard thought it was a good idea.
Economically, it makes sense; he had said.
It benefits everyone.
And then, after everything that happened…
That’s the day I lost respect for him.
And he’s done very little to earn it back, except to notturn Olive over to the authorities.
As if on cue, they replay the grainy footage from the other day, and my stomach churns.