The Great Below

The Prison

They returned to the gym to check on Nick: Alex hesitated outside the swinging doors and Octavia followed his cue, coming close, anticipating another small moment of intimacy. His face had turned a shade darker. "Nick will take you to eat after your lesson," Alex told her. "He was probably waiting until the men cleared out, which is for the best."

"Will you be there?"

He sighed, scanning the empty hallway. "It would be best if we weren't seen together for a while. We're both under a good deal of scrutiny."

He was right, of course, but it didn't soften the blow. "Oh," she said, and before she could push open the doors, Alex touched her arm.

"I didn't say it was going to happen that way. I just said it would be best."

Octavia nodded.

Nick was hunched against one of the mirrored walls. Alex tossed him the glove filled with ice from the doorway. "She had a change of heart," he told Nick. "We discussed the ramifications of leaving."

Nick pressed the severed-looking hand to his crotch and his face transitioned from pain to relief to weird enjoyment, then back to pain. "You mean she heard you over the sound of her rampant death wish," he replied.

Octavia hovered near the swinging doors. "I'm sorry. That was a lot of information and I spooked. I couldn't handle it."

"You almost neutered me with your razor-sharp elbow." The sarcasm had crept back into his voice, making her smile. "But I suppose, if you're good, that I could find it in my cold, black heart to forgive you."

"That's the spirit," Alex said. He nudged Octavia farther inside, leaving her and Nick on their own. Nick, meanwhile, had slid down the mirror with his back until he sat on the floor with his knees bent. He shifted the lifeless ice-hand around on his crotch, seeking comfort like it was a hard-to-pinpoint radio station. She took a seat beside him.

"I could offer to take it easy on you," he said, "but it would draw Dominic's suspicion. Training has a short schedule and I don't think having Alex on your side will make it any easier. Never in my life have I seen so much nepotism blow up in a guy's face."

"Nepotism?"

"Yeah. It's when someone gets special treatment—"

"No, I know what it is," Octavia said. "Why would Alex be getting it?"

Nick cast a skeptical glance. "Oh, no. I'm not falling for this again. The last time I sprung new information on you, you put an elbow-shaped dent in my dick."

"Nick—"

"No, seriously. You can't tell, but I'm peeing internally. It's dangerous."

Octavia laughed, despite the looming problem that Dominic and Alex were related. Father and son? There was a hint of a resemblance, when she thought about it. The lean build, the same dark brown hair. Her stomach rolled over like a crashing wave and then breakfast was no longer an option. "Please just tell me," she said.

"He's Dominic's nephew. He's on the short list to run this place when Dominic retires early." Nick gave up on the ice and tossed it to the floor with a crunch.

So that was it. Slightly better than her first guess. Her brain replayed the encounter in Dominic's private quarters, with the museum-style wall of photos and the proud stag's head mounted over the bed, only this time she imagined Alex holding a drink from the bar cart. Then, Alex telling her to give the alarm clock back. Alex asking her to take a shower. How different would this place be if he ran it?

Nick said more after that, but Octavia wasn't listening. She thought of Alex telling her how the rooms on the lowest floor seemed like prison, but they weren't. Maybe he was right. In real prison, there were guards and an administration full of civilians to pad her from the criminals. She came back to reality when a familiar manila folder tapped her on the shoulder.