Awake (Book 3)

Eleven

When August, Blake, and several other people returned to the house a couple days later, they didn’t return alone.

            A prisoner was with them.

            I knew this because Jessica brought me to the interrogation room, refusing to tell me who the guy inside was, but insisting I could be of monumental assistance. I assumed she figured this because of my awfully persuading abilities. Lucille viewed them the same way. I hated it, but was forced to recognize the practicality.

            That was why I couldn’t blame Jessica for her thoughts, because in terms of completing the fastest and most effective interrogation possible, I would be the rational choice.

            Like Lucille would say, my personal opinions on the matter were irrelevant.

            “Why do I have to do this?” I asked Jessica, as she leaned against the wall and watched the guy through the one-way glass. His hands were bound and a large black sack was tied around his head, so I didn’t know who he was.

            “Because you have a way of hitting people where it hurts,” she replied, jaw tightening. “And not just the bad guys, either.”

            I frowned. “Excuse me?”

            Her eyes burned. “You know perfectly well what I’m talking about, Ellie Armstrong.”

            But I didn’t.

            I didn’t know.

            And because I didn’t want her to realize this, I turned away and stared at the ground, fidgeting with my tank-top. Silence wedged between us, thick and impenetrable, until footsteps preceded the presence of August and Blake.

            “Oh, for the love of God,” August muttered. “Jessica, what the hell is she doing here?”

            Jessica pushed off the wall, defending her decision, but in no real hurry to defend me. “You know she’s a useful asset,” she remarked. “Face it, August. You have a tendency to kill all our potential informants. Ellie can provide a service you can’t.”

            “You mean torture.”

            “Well, yeah. Useful torture. Torture that won’t kill them. I mean, that’s what you’ve been going through the last six months, right Ellie?”

            Her words pinged right through, and they stung horribly. She was angry. Angry at me. What did I keep doing? Couldn’t they see I was just thinking of them? Just trying to protect them? Just trying to keep them alive?

            Blake scratched at his hair, seemingly at a loss. August’s shadowed blue eyes penetrated into my soul.

            “Fine,” he eventually ground out. “Let’s go.”

            So I followed him into the room, the door closing behind us, and when August ripped the sack off the guy’s head, I nearly lost it.

            “Well, well, well,” Rex leered, smiling maliciously. “What a surprise.”

            “Shut up,” August snapped, and I winced, even though I shouldn’t have, because this was a side of August he’d possessed long before I even met him at Yale all that time ago. He wasn’t always the smiley, humorous, gentle guy I knew. I hadn’t seen that side of him in six months.