“I never thought I’d be so excited over eating on the floor like this,” she called back.
I sat crossed legged on the ground in front of my door and took the cover off the tray. I didn’t know what I’d been expecting, oatmeal or toast. A boiled egg even. But it wasn’t the delicious omelet and thick cut, buttery toast that was under the silver dome.
It was incredibly tasty, like something you’d order at the Oakville country club or one of their high end restaurants. You could just tell it was made of better ingredients and done with better skill than I was used to.
I didn’t want to like it so much. I wanted to turn it away or go on a hunger strike in protest of people captured, but I was starving, so I ate every last speck of it and even licked the plate like I was a little kid making a cake with my grandma again.
“Are you done?” Penny asked.
“Yeah, sadly,” I replied. “I guess I was too hungry to turn them down. It’s hard to be uppity when the food is this good.”
“Yeah, it was good, but I’d kill for a burger right now,” she said.
“Oh god, me too,” I laughed. “Or an ice cream twisty from the Snack Shack.”
“Oh god,” she moaned. “Yes, with toasted coconut sprinkles.”
“Yes,” I groaned. “And whipped cream.”
I heard Penny exclaim in ecstasy and smiled towards her door.
She went quiet after that, and then asked me, “What happened? How did we get here?”
And my bubble of denial popped, leaving my head flooded once again with images of Kingston, a red bloom of blood on his Covington hoodie just before he fell to his knees. Then all the guards, kicking and beating him, tearing him apart.
It was as if my head couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t give voice to what I’d seen or else I’d make it real. As long as I didn’t vocalize my memories, Kingston would be alive somewhere, playing football and hanging out with Archer and Valen.
I’d even rather envision him with Sofia than the way he was locked in my mind. Broken, bleeding, confused, and filled with anguish, as I was torn away from him.
“Everly?” she prodded gently. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just that. Well, it was really horrible.”
“Is Mark okay?” she asked in a sudden panic. “Was he hurt?”
“He might have been roughed up,” I said. “But when I saw him last he was walking.”
“Oh thank god,” she said breathlessly, and I could almost see her crossing herself reflexively. I smiled at the thought. “Were the other guys okay? The Kings?”
She added the second part quickly and caught me off guard. My voice choked in my mouth as my throat squeezed tightly and I struggled to inhale. I finally caught my breath and said, “Archer and Valen seemed okay, I think.”
“What about Kingston?” she asked with hesitation, slowing her words.
“He—”
I couldn’t finish. His face flashed into my head, pained and terrified, but also regret at letting me get taken away from him.
I took another breath, gathered my courage, and said, “He was shot. And then they attacked him.”
“Oh my god, Everly,” Penny exclaimed. “Shot? How bad was it?”
“They got him from behind,” I said. “Almost right where I shot Reg. Can you believe that? Fucking karma, coming for me hard and fast.”
“That’s not karma,” she said. “Fuck karma. After everything we’ve been through, even in just being here, we deserve some good fucking karma. Kingston being shot isn’t on you, it isn’tyourkarma.”
Her words were fiercely protective, but I still felt guilt burning at the edges of my mind. That was the real reason I’d kept the images away from my conscious mind. Because he’d been shot right where I’d shot Reg, but from behind, not from the front. And it wasn’t as close as I’d been to Reg, so I eased my worry by thinking about that. It wouldn’t have been as brutal. If Reg survived, so could Kingston. But still.
“I can’t help it. I feel like he paid for my sins,” I told her. “I feel like I’m the reason he got shot and the reason he’s dead.”