SECOND DRAFT: Hard Bank Left

7

Graham stood in the cargo hold, arms crossed, leaning against a locker, staring blankly at the tiny prison-like cell opposite him. Preparations for Ve were made, she'd be bunking with Kry; she had plenty of beds in her room. And Krys would be able to keep a close eye on her. That was a relief, of course. After... the incident, well, Ve just wasn't the same. But that was in the past, and she would be alright with Krys looking after her. No, Ve wasn't the reason that for his brooding.

Cadence had once been an intimate part of Krys's life, one she couldn't bare to part from. He threw her away. There was no other way for Graham to rationalize it. Cadence no longer found her worth the effort. Sure, Krys could be short tempered and kept a tight ship, and maybe she expected to be taken into consideration once in awhile, but not worth the effort? What effort?

He had heard stories of her rages, that her wrath knew no bounds. He heard that she would scream and fight and throw things. He'd never seen such behavior from her. Sure she could get exacerbated or be irritable, but rage? Rage wasn't something he could see in her when she was with him.

Krys expressed once that her lashing out was based mostly on her inability to live her own life: like she wasn't allowed to make her own decisions. She wasn't allowed to have friends, leave the house. Of course she was upset!

About now, Krys would be exchanging pleasantries with him. She'd would put on a brave face. She'd smile and laugh and genuinely ask if he were okay, she never stopped caring, not with anyone. She would come back and be an emotional wreck. How dare he? How dare he hurt her like this? The arrogant prick: how dare he have the nerve to treat her as though she hasn't been effected by him? If Graham so much as saw his face...

He turned abruptly, punching the locker repeatedly until his wrist ached and his knuckles bled. Each impact sent a metallic resonance up his arm, reinforcing his need to continue causing damage. The door of the locker crumpled slightly, the thunk of the hinges giving way blended in to the groaning of the hatch door sliding open a sliver.

Broken moonlight poured over Graham's face, brighter than expected. Krys's silhouette seemed oddly lumpy and had entirely too many limbs. Behind her was someone else, large, imposing, carrying bags.

"Graham, can you get the door for me?"

"Yeah." He shoved the door the rest of the way open.

"What happened to your hand?"

Nothing you need concern yourself over. He grunted in reply.

"She fell asleep ages ago, apparently. Would you mind helping me get her to bed?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I think we can manage that." He guided her through the catwalk door, across the catwalk, clear to her room. He helped her pull out the trundle bed, it was no use getting Ve all the way into one of the loft beds.

"I've got it from here, I think. Would you... would you make sure Cadence gets Ve's bags in? Lock us up before we head out?"

The knuckles on his right hand stung as he popped them one at a time. "Yeah."

Graham found Cadence waiting patiently for someone to return. The man stood a full head and a half taller than himself, and a fair sight heaver set. The bulk of him was impressive, mostly muscle, though things were beginning to settle in the middle.

"Cadence."

"Uh. Graham. Good to see you again."

"Mm. I'll take the bags from here if you don't mind."

"Okay. Just, get them out of here safely. Shit's about to go down and I may or may not mean that literally."

"Well, I appreciate the insight, but we'd better get going."