Bo and the Beast (Book #1) (Completed)

40. Like Mother, Like Daughter

Aston, whether he saw the error of his ways or whether he just wanted to get in her good books, began a long and, frankly, annoying attempt at regaining Bo's confidence. He didn't even wait for her split lip and bruised chin to heal more than a day before he loped up to their tent and acted as if nothing had happened. Bo kept her distance, making sure she could disappear whenever he showed his face.

But when she wouldn't talk to him in her tent, he tried out all the other places she went in the camp too. The water supply, the food supply, the walls when she was on watch, the hoppers when she was on repair duty. It got to the point where she dreaded going out in the morning, because she knew he'd be right there, pretending like he hadn't just completely destroyed their relationship.

She kept up her blank stare and tight lips, zoning into her own mind as soon as she saw him approaching. It only served to make him frustrated as well as angry— but he never raised his hand to her again. She was grateful that she still had at least that much influence over him. He knew when she threatened to blow his brains out, she meant it.

On one of these days, she spotted him while he was still walking across the camp to corner her. She was just coming off overnight duty on the wall, and didn't feel like standing there while he tried to get her to joke with him. So, she cut behind one of the tents and walked home, instead of going to have a wash up in the shower area. She felt gross and gritty from all night in the dust, but she'd rather have peace and quiet than be clean but have to listen to Aston for an hour.

Back at home, she found her dad resting in a chair just on the inside of the tent flap. Someone, Felicia probably, had gathered a bunch of their spare blankets and wrapped him tightly into a little co-coon. Bo was already dripping in sweat from her walk from the walls. She couldn't imagine being swaddled in layers of blankets. Dad had taken a chill, though, and always complained of his cold hands and feet.

Bo pulled up another chair from the table to her dad's side. She sat in it backward, her arms draped over the back, her legs on either side, staring at the shifting dust on the ground outside. Dad coughed softly into his hand and then smiled.

"How was it last night?"

Bo shrugged. "Boring." She didn't leave it at that, though, no matter how much she just wanted to sit in silence and think. Her dad never got to leave the tent, and after Aston's rise to power, no one really visited her family anymore. Dad was isolated, and since Felicia was a selfish brat, Bo was his only connection to anything outside of the canvas walls. So, she told him stories about everything that happened to her, no matter how small or mundane they might be.

Dad tilted his head back, eyes closed, listening to her tale of a rat scaring one of the men on watch last night. He laughed in all the right places, and nodded his head in approval when she told him how one of the younger girls, Ana, had caught the rat with one hand.

When the rat tale was over, Bo told him a story from the day before. It wasn't anything interesting, just little anecdotes from around the camp. She was in the middle of the story when she glanced up and saw Aston watching her from the opening in his tent across the path. Her blood chilled and she quickly looked away.

"I'm going on a walk," she said, pushing out of her chair and stalking off before Dad could call her back. She gathered her gear together and slipped out under the wall of the tent in the back so that Aston wouldn't see her. She walked through the camp and straight out the gates, covering her face with her bandana and picking a random course to clear her mind.

Her feet bent on a path that she barely even looked at. She just walked away from home, and away from Aston. Out here, she was free to be no one. Just a girl swaddled against the whipping dust and sand, trudging no place in particular.