Volumes of the Vemreaux Complete Collection: A Dystopian Adventure Trilogy, page 46
Brody reached forward and brushed Blue’s hair away from her face, not noticing her aversion to his touch. “What happened?”
“I’m fine, Brody. Really. It’s Sam.”
Brody continued to check her arms, then her neck, and fingered her face, which was staring up at him with so much confusion, he had a hard time recalling all the ways he despised her. She looked so delicate, so dainty…so much like Julia. “You’re okay?”
“Of course.”
“Alright. Come on, then.” Brody led the way to the bedroom, throwing open the door with confidence. He took one look at the thrashing Sam, and deflated at the lack of threat. “Oh, that’s all? I heard shouting, but I thought you two were fighting or something.” He tried to hide his disappointment.
“Is it his…he told me he sometimes has night terrors? Is that what this is? I swear, Brody, I didn’t hurt him!”
“Sometimes?” Brody scoffed. “Come here, Yellow.” He waved her over, ignoring Sam’s howling. “If you’re going to be sleeping with him,” he spoke with disdain, “then you need to know how to wake him up.” He yanked hard on the edge of the comforter, ripping it out from Sam’s tangled limbs. Sam spun off the bed and fell to the floor, the carpet muffling the sound of the harsh landing. “Easy as that.”
Sam sat up shakily, rubbing his head as he blinked the room into focus. “W-what? What happened?”
“You’re welcome,” Brody said by way of an answer. Then he tipped his imaginary hat to them before exiting.
Sam assessed the room warily before deciding it was safe. Tension gripped his shoulders, refusing to let him relax. He reached for the edge of the bed, but his fingers slipped on his way to standing, so he remained on the floor a little longer.
Blue gaped, unable to conceal her horror. It wasn’t until he shamefully met her gaze that she closed her mouth. Snapping to attention, she dashed into the bathroom and filled up a glass of water, bringing it out to him at once. By the time she knelt in front of him, he’d already located a cigarette and was lighting it guiltily. “Sorry,” he offered.
“Don’t apologize, Sam. Are you okay?”
He took a long drag and made sure to blow the smoke out the side of his mouth, so as not to make her too uncomfortable. He nodded robotically, but his eyes stared off, unfocused as he took a second puff. An entire minute of silence passed as Sam calmed himself and came more fully out of his dream. “Could you open the window?” he requested, his voice barely above a whisper.
Blue jumped to her feet and unlatched the window, permitting the pane to pop out and open the full seven centimeters. Josephine explained that particular security feature was on all the windows above the first floor to keep intruders at bay.
Blue turned and saw Sam placing an unsteady hand on the floor as he attempted to push himself up. She was immediately at his side, offering her arm as leverage.
“I’m fine,” Sam insisted as she supported his weight.
“Okay.”
Blue led him to the box window seat in a half-hug, lowering him down gently as she released him. She watched him as he stared out the window into the wide expanse of land owned by the royals.
“I thought…I thought it wouldn’t happen if you were here. At the hotel in the Americas…” Sam reasoned, trying to excuse himself for being caught in the weak moment. “I’m sorry.”
Thinking back on the night she’d stayed in their hotel room, she recalled how taken aback he’d been that he’d fallen asleep and woken without having a night terror. “I was in your arms that time,” she observed.
“Yes, you were.” He blew more smoke out into the fresh air, hoping his demons would vacate with every exhale. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want you to have to see it…see me like that. Embarrassing.” Before she could protest, he straightened. “I didn’t…I didn’t hit you, did I? Oh, man. Please tell me I didn’t attack you.”
Blue shook her head vehemently, unwilling to permit him any more grief. “No! You just shouted and rolled around.” She knew it would be a mistake to admit he’d pushed her.
He breathed with relief and took another long sip from his cigarette. “Thank God.” He flicked the ash out the window, refusing to look at the girl he could never get enough of. “Just let me grab a change of clothes, and I’ll be out of your hair.”
When he turned to stand, Blue rested her hand on his forearm, anchoring him back down. “No, Sam. This is your room, and you shouldn’t leave. Do you want me to go?”
“No, but I…”
“Then I’ll stay. Now that I know what to do, I can wake you up sooner next time. No big deal.”
He turned to look at her, sizing up her determination. “What are you talking about? You saw me, didn’t you? Sometimes it can get…pretty violent.”
Blue shot him a withering look, daring him to push her away. “Wow. Violence? Never been exposed to that. I don’t know how I’d handle it. I’m just this poor little Wayward, and you’re such a big, strong Vemreaux. Whatever shall I do to fight back against a sleeping Vemreaux?”
“Alright, little Wayward.” Sam’s eyes narrowed, and the familiar garment of sarcasm draped around his shoulders, easing the tension there. “I know you’re joking, but I kinda like you calling me a big, strong Vemreaux.” Given that it was the middle of the night, he reasoned that he could not be held responsible for his actions at this hour. Sam reached out and lifted her hand, twining his fingers in hers. “You really want to stay? I mean, you’re safe tonight. I usually only have them once a night.”
Looking down at their hands, Blue offered the most reassuring thing her brother had ever told her. She recalled coming to from yet another blackout with a casualty total of four when she was only nine years old. After Baird had slapped her back into focus, he helped her dispose of the bodies, never leaving her side, even when she begged him to with her pleas of self-loathing.
Blue looked into Sam’s troubled eyes and repeated Baird’s lullaby. “I’m not afraid of you, Sam. And I’m not going anywhere.”
4
Baird’s Mistake
The week since Blue left the hut was a slow coming down off the emotional roller coaster from saying such a terrible goodbye. Grettel, Elle and Baird tried to get back to their normal way of life as quickly as possible, and for once, they were each grateful that there was more than enough work to bury themselves in. Though it was nothing compared to Peace Week, the diner still attracted all sorts, leaving the staff constantly busy.
Elle and Grettel slept fitfully at night, while Baird lay awake on the old couch, obsessing about different things he should have taught his sister that might prove useful in taking down the predator. His days were not only occupied with his usual duties, but they also now were absorbed with training the newest purchase to fill Blue’s position. Androo was nothing compared to the one he was expected to replace, but he was the best pick of all Baird had to choose from. Marxus was Baird’s first choice, but his right hand man had no interest in leaving The Way.
To say that Androo was obnoxious was pretty much always an accurate description. Thankfully, he did his best to mind his manners around the Vemreaux for the most part, waiting on tables fairly well. Baird wondered how long the feigned politeness would last before his true colors shown through.
Baird had known Androo in The Way for years. Androo did not appear insufferable at first glance, no doubt only Baird made that harsh assessment of him. Every now and then, Androo had made the leap to include the sullen loner in table conversation back in The Way. Baird suspected it was to get a lead on pursuing Elle or Blue. It made his life so much easier that at least one of the two did not think enough of herself to take notice when boys looked at her. Elle was a different story. Though she toned down her flirting since their first passionate kiss, there were times that her loose smile made him cringe.
Looking back on his decision to purchase Androo on Joe’s behalf, Baird realized his inner masochist. It was one of the reasons he had not confided in Blue who was to replace her. She would have called him out on his poor choice. As it was, he was stuck in the situation he’d created. Blue always told him that he’d never be happy unless he was miserable, and he was beginning to see her point. Baird had good reasons at the time of the purchase. Androo was one of the bigger Wayward guys, and would make Baird’s job of watching out for the girls a little easier. Plus, Androo had never raped anyone and was not prone to outbursts of violence, which were both important qualities. Blue had made her opinion clear several times in The Way that she found Androo annoying, which was a fair assessment.
At the thought of his sister, Baird winced. He was trying so hard to put her out of his mind. All he did when he thought about her situation was worry, and that did no one any good. Occasionally, Grettel would give him one of her knowing looks and nudge him to call Liam to check on Blue. That was not how things worked. When you said goodbye to someone, you were supposed to let them go. Painful as it was thinking that, at that moment, his sister could be dying alone on the island, he would not drag out the separation by pretending to still be there for her. In truth, she was every bit as alone as he was. It was no surprise. He’d turned her into a miniature version of himself, hopefully minus the masochism.
Androo slapped an order onto the nail in the kitchen that now held little intrigue for Baird. There used to be this great purpose to his life. Through all of the struggles turning Blue into someone who could save an entire race of people while being able to walk away from her own, Baird failed to develop a life outside of that goal. Now that she was on her own, he was unsure what motivation there was to continue on as the person he’d become.
Grettel filled Androo’s order. It was the third one in a row that she’d taken. Grettel did not complain, but Baird knew that she noticed his increasing distance and lack of focus. He moved slower. At night when he was tending bar, he no longer twirled the bottles to entertain the Femreaux. Instead, he was dragging his feet to get things done in a timely fashion. Now that Blue was not around to bicker with, he argued with gravity to keep himself upright. He’d thrown up twice that day, yet he was always starving. The past couple days he vacillated between hungry and sick, hungry and sick.
Things with Elle had not progressed the way he’d envisioned. He had not kissed her since Peace Day, but he did not want anyone else to have her, either. Truth be told, Baird did not know what he wanted. So little of his life was spent pursuing his desires; it was difficult for him to recognize them.
The bathrooms were in need of a good scrubbing, but he did not tend to them. The non-perishable stock needed to be put away, but he left it on the kitchen floor where the delivery truck dropped it off. If he needed something, he opened the box and picked out whatever it was. Grettel, in her usual mousy way, would put things away over the course of several days so that he hopefully would not notice that she was picking up after him. She and Elle started cleaning the bathrooms without any request from him. Androo did not know any different, so he did whatever Elle told him to, which ended up being the things that Baird used to do. If there was a Vemreaux who was being a problem, it was now Androo who asked them to leave, putting his solid build to good use. It had not been a week since Peace Day, but Baird was falling over the edge.
“Baird, when are you going to the bar?” Androo asked. “People keep asking for shots.” The tension between the two men had been painful ever since Androo’s first day. Each time they interacted, it somehow managed to escalate.
“In a minute!” Baird shouted, causing Grettel to yelp. Not even having the good grace to apologize or look abashed, Baird washed the slime from the aged beef off of his hands and removed his apron, throwing it on the floor.
As soon as he left, Grettel scurried over and picked up the apron, placing it in the bin designated for dirty linens. Baird had never in his life been so careless. His obsession with doing things the right way was where the girls had learned to be so detail-oriented themselves. Baird stormed back into the kitchen and grabbed several racks of clean shot glasses, glaring at Grettel as he did so. “I need these at the bar. Do I have to do everything myself around here?” he scowled at her back.
When he turned around, he came face to face with a determined Elle. “Baird, don’t talk to her like that.”
Baird glared at Elle, running through many nasty retorts and trying to pick the best one. Androo entered the kitchen behind her. “I’ll talk to all of you however I want!” He punched his fist to his chest. “This is my kitchen! I’m the one in charge of all of you. Joe trusts me to run his business. Do you have any idea how stressful that is? Or do you spend all your time thinking how you can shake your hips in those drunk Vemreaux’s faces to up your tips?”
It was just the opening Androo was looking for to impress Elle. For some age-old reason that women will most likely never understand even after World War Four, Androo thought his best way to get in her good graces was to pull back his fist and launch it into Baird’s face. Baird’s head snapped to the side and everyone froze.
Elle threw herself in front of Androo, who had no idea who he’d just punched, and begged Baird with her eyes to calm down. At his first step toward them, Elle shrieked, “Run, Androo!”
Of course, Androo did no such thing. What sort of a message would it send to Elle if he ran out on a fight he’d started? With Elle stuck using her body as a shield, she shouted to Grettel, who was cowering in the corner, crying. “Grettel, run out there and grab Stand! Go, honey! Hurry!”
It took the small girl all of her courage and about four seconds too long to run out the back of the diner and around the outside of the building to the entrance. She was too terrified to go through the dividing door between the bar and the kitchen, for the fight was too near it. Though Lawrence was their usual enforcer, he was not there, so Stand would have to do. His sandy blond hair was easy to spot, and she ran past the tables and dancers who gave her curious looks. She did not stop until she was directly in front of him. “Stand?” Her voice was barely audible.
“Hello, Grettel,” he greeted her politely. “Is something wrong?” It was not a difficult assessment. Tears were streaming down her face and she was approaching hysterical as she stood in front of his table, twisting the fabric of her apron. She nodded and motioned for him to follow her. Stand was with two colleagues, and he excused himself to go with the tiny cook.
The sight they walked in on drew a scream from the girl and loud shouts of protest from Stand. Both boys were on the floor, Baird atop Androo, who was face-down in the middle of the kitchen. Baird was kneeling on Androo’s arms, digging his knuckles vindictively into a spot on the man’s back. Androo was howling in pain and kicking his legs up as Elle pulled on Baird’s bicep to make him stop. “Stand, help me!” she screamed through her furious tears.
Though the man was not known for his bodybuilding skills or his intimidating physique, he was still a changed Vemreaux. As soon as he collected himself from the shock of seeing the reserved Baird lose all control, he leapt past Grettel and pulled at Baird. A deranged Baird fought against Stand’s hold, sinking his fist hard into the man’s stomach before he realized what he had done.
“Baird, no!” Grettel cried. Baird whirled on her, hand raised, and Grettel screamed.
He had no intention of hitting the girl who often brought him the only peace he could hold onto. He would never dream of it, especially given the abuse Grettel had suffered at the hand of Nurse Kalista when he’d first met the shy pixie all those years ago.
Seeing the fear in Grettel’s eyes alerted him to the fact that she was afraid of him. His hand was the one she flinched away from. The hand she gripped to anchor herself was no longer her safe place. It was raised in fury and confusion in her direction. Baird froze with dread at the man he was becoming.
Grettel’s tears had taken on an uncontrolled frenzy, and Elle looked at the man as if he was a complete stranger.
Baird glanced down at Androo on the floor, Stand doubled over clutching his stomach and the girls backing away from him, and choked. With nothing else to do, Baird turned and ran out of the kitchen into the open air for as long as his strong legs would carry him.
It was Elle who came to her senses first. She moved over to Androo and rubbed the area above where Baird had dug his fingers in, knowing this to be the only way to alleviate the intense sting along the spine. Grettel’s tears abandoned their usual need for a quiet release as she sobbed loudly on the floor.
Elle stood and offered a hand to Stand, who straightened up slowly. “He’s pretty strong for an A-blood. I’ve never known a Wayward to be so sturdy.” He rubbed his stomach. “Are you okay?” He and Elle helped Androo to his feet, but the waiter did not stand straight for a few minutes, his back too sore to use the muscles for the task.
Elle sat next to Grettel on the floor and pulled her to her side like a little doll. Grettel wailed pathetically into her hands, not able to see the tissue Stand offered her. “I’m so sorry, Stand. I didn’t know what to do!” Elle begged him to forgive them all. “Please don’t report him,” she begged. “He’s not usually like this.” She took the tissue from him and dabbed at her face, leaving most of it as dry as she could for Grettel to use when she resurfaced. “Blue was sold last week, and he’s…he’s just not handling it very well. None of us are.”
“Sold?” Stand repeated, stunned at the potency of the word. He staggered back from the girls in shock. “When?”
“Last Thursday.” Elle combed her fingers through Grettel’s short brown hair. “I’m sure he’ll come around. Please, please don’t report him. We’ll comp your meals for a month, sir.”
Stand waved his hand to tell her how little his interests were in involving the police. “Look, I know how the law works. Vemreaux gets into a bar fight, nothing happens. A Wayward attacks a Vemreaux, they’re dragged away and usually don’t come back. I don’t want that. Don’t worry.” He tried to act as if the punch to the gut had not hurt at all, which was far from the truth. “I’m just concerned about you guys. Are you going to be okay with him? He seemed a little unstable. I’ve never known Baird to get violent like that.”
