Chapter 7
Texas didn't dropmy hand when we entered the bedroom. Instead, he held it and led me to the double bed pushed up against the wall under the only window the room boasted. The comforter covering it was smoothly laid over the mattress. Clean and pressed and smelling like vanilla, the dark blue was a contrast against the bare white walls of theroom.
"Alright." Texas sat on the bed, tugging me along until I did the same. "Let's get to it, shall we? What do you want toknow?"
I paused for a moment, glancing around the room at the plain, gray walls and lack of decor. His fingers tapped a staccato rhythm against his leg as he waited. A lingering scent of heated vanilla reached my nose as his coffee brown eyes watchedme.
"I guess I'd like to start with Iris," I finallydecided.
"Okay," Texas released my hand, using his own to rub at his pants' legs before standing up and striding across the room to a computer desk. "Well, to start, Iris is a not-for-profit organization that builds connections for members of thecommunity."
"What community?" I asked as he flicked on one of the computers set across the desk and begantyping.
"That's confidential," he replied as the printer hummed tolife.
"That's not even a major question." I frowned, crossing my arms over mychest.
He shrugged. "I'm sorry. I can't answerthat."
"Fine," I huffed. "Goon."
"If you decide to join us, you'll need to sign a non-disclosureagreement–"
"Principal Wiggins said something about that, is he a part of yourorganization?"
He hummed for a moment, tilting his head to one side and cracking his neck. "In a way, I suppose," hereplied.
Great, I thought.Information as clear as mud. Instead of snapping at him, which had proved to have little to no effect, I took the opportunity to check out the rest of the room while I debated anotherquestion.
The computer desk was actually two tables pushed together in the diagonal corner of the room with wooden drawers that appeared hand-made underneath. The top of the desk was loaded with cords, wires, screens, hard drives, and a bunch of other techy-whatnots. The walls were bare, but not unclean. There were no marks, no scratches. Not even where the bed might have been moved infrom.
"Harlow, are you listening?" I had taken so much time in quietly dissecting his room that I didn't notice Texas was stilltalking
I shook my head. "Sorry," Imumbled.
Instead of huffing in frustration or annoyance, he merely smirked at me, the lip near his beauty marks curving slightlyupwards.
"I said that we would come back to the non-disclosure agreement later. Right now, you're more of a temporary, trainee recruit. We're feeling you out. You're feeling us out. We're finding out if we click together." The way he said that had blood rushing to my face and his smirk bloomed into a fullgrin.
The printer began to spit out leaves of paper while he turned back to his desk and rummaged through a couple of the drawers, looking for something. When he found what he was looking for – a dark colored phone model – he popped open the back and checked something inside, then went back to searching through hisdrawers.
"So, I'm temporary..." I said. "Does that mean that I won't actually get anyinformation?"
He shook his head as he opened another drawer, leaving the first open with papers and cords poking out of it. "No, you'll eventually decide whether or not you want to join Iris. When you get to that point – like we all do – we'll tell youeverything."
"So, when I’m officially a member of Iris, you'll tell me what I want to know?" I clarified, my browfurrowing.
"Precisely," hesaid.
The printerstopped.
"Because that makes perfect sense." I huffed.“How am I supposed to know if I want to join if I don’t know what itis?”
Texas shut the drawer and turned back to me. "That’s why I’m telling you what Irisis.”
“A nonprofit organization,” Istated.
He nodded. “Yes. There are plenty of opportunities that will become available to you if you take this job with us." His stare was intense, eyes heavy anddeep.