The Deepest Red (31 page)

“When I throw you this time, I want you to roll out of it,” Connor suggests to me and then explains how I’m to try.

The technique is simple but the process takes several times before I’m able to avoid being slammed back onto the floor mat. Lunch time doesn’t come soon enough. By the time I’m sitting down in the cafeteria my muscles protest with every movement. I flinch as I lift a small piece of bread to my mouth.

“You’ll get better,” Connor reassures me from across the table.

My body is so tired that my heart doesn’t even race at the sound of his deep voice.

“Gee, thanks Mr. Freeman for the encouragement,” I counter, giving him a sarcastic glance. 

“If it makes you feel better. I feel like crap too,” Clover announces from beside me.

A grunt like laugh comes from Connor.

“Tomorrow, we start your favorite thing.” He pauses for effect. “Running.”

An insulting grin appears on his face causing his eyes to sparkle. Clover and I both let out a mournful moan. Tessa smiles along with Connor. Her being as young as she is, she doesn’t have to put forth as much effort as the rest of us. As long as she gets the concept, she gets a passing grade. Connor doesn’t realize I’ve been training with Tessa for a long time. She will surprise him when he gets past thinking of her as breakable glass.

With the slowness of a sloth, I make my way after lunch to the library. Dad waste no time giving me a cart and telling me to go collect books from those who haven’t returned what they borrowed. The pile of books on my cell floor comes to mind but if he remembers he doesn’t mention them. My steps are labored as I work through the soreness of my muscles. I would hate to know how Connor had trained growing up if this morning’s session was any indication. I perform a few stretches before beginning my task.

I collect several items from familiar faces of the community. Some apologize for not returning novels sooner while others just give me a dismissive gesture and toss the book into my cart. I’ve been at this mind-numbing task for an hour before I come across Evie.

“Millie,” she calls out to me as I walk across the cafeteria’s dirty floors.

I wonder who is set to sweep the floors today?

“I’m so glad I caught you,” she says.

She pulls out a small book from out of her apron pocket and with careful hands places it inside my full cart. Evie is a young woman, a couple years older than Jay and Lonnie. She is tall and awkward with her long brown hair braided down her back. Where I’m hard and toned from many training sessions, she is soft and curvy. She isn’t obese by any means. There is not enough food available for anyone to have that luxury. Evie, just has an easy charisma making her gentleness and shyness combination into a sweet charm that I could never pull off.

“I hear you’re training every morning with Connor,” she says, dusting flour off her apron.

“Yeah,” I reply, not liking where this conversation is going, “also with Clover and Tessa.”

She gives me a tender smile.

“Is Lonnie and Jay going to train as well? I doubt they would give up an opportunity to learn.” She pauses. “I heard Connor is a great fighter and could be an excellent teacher.”

I try to give her a smile in return but fail.

“I’ll let you know by the end of the week,” I say and begin to push my cart away, “ and thanks for letting Connor bring me my dinner.”

I wave goodbye. Her pale cheeks turn pink as she glances down to the floor.

“You’re welcome,” she replies. “He definitely has a way about him.”

She turns quickly, mumbling a goodbye. My hands grip the cart tightly. Another new emotion joins the ranks of all the others.
Jealousy.
I attempt to push the sentiment away.

When I arrive back at the library, I’m greeted by an empty room.

“Dad? I’m back.”

No one responds. Knowing I’m required to stay, I decide to empty out my recently filled book cart. I lean on the dented metal for support, my muscles still aching. I didn’t realize there were so many muscles I’ve never used while training on my own. After categorizing and shelving almost every book in the cart, I turn down the back aisle with the last one in hand. I jump about a mile high when I discover Connor.

“What the hell! Did you not hear me earlier?”

He glances up from his book, eyeing me with amusement. He sits sprawled out on the floor. His long legs stretched out as he leans back on the heavy bookshelf.

“You weren’t calling for me.”

I stare at him in bewilderment. 

“Not the point.” I say, recognizing the cover of his book. “I’ve read that book.”

I force my muscles to bend and sit down beside him. He watches me.

“You should stretch out some or you’ll continue to stay sore.” he says, earning my glare.

“I’m good,” I say as I settle in beside him.

He purses his lips.

“How far have you gotten?” I motion toward the book.

His amusement at my interest grows.

“Not too far. Just started. I’m at the part where a dragon bites the crappy king’s head off.”

He looks at the cover of the book then turns back to his page with a snicker. I release a slight laugh and glance away, attempting to stop myself from noticing how beautiful his face appears in this soft light. He’s clean and shaven, wearing new clothes that have probably been given to him by the scouts. The silky grey of his shirt makes his eyes stand out even more. I’m suddenly made aware I haven't even washed my hair since I’ve been back. Insecurities fill me. If Connor notices my body stiffen, he doesn’t react visually.

“What do you got?” he asks.

Connor points to the book I’d forgotten in my hand- Evie’s book. A picture of a beautifully decorated cupcake graces the cover.

“Its nothing, just the last book I needed to shelve. Evie still requests cookbooks every time we savage in the red zone.”

I make a face at the cover and resent the fact I’ve never eaten a cupcake before.

“She’s a sweet girl. I like her a lot,” Connor says, giving me another amused glance.

I realize beyond my jealousy is a lingering fact, I’m no longer the only fish in the sea. He has options now and Evie is the better choice. I deflate a little where I’m sitting. I’ve got to bury this crush I can’t admit to.

“Yeah, she is. If you like sweet,” I respond knowingly.

Embarrassed, I quickly stand with my muscles protesting and place the book back onto the shelf.

“She’ll make a good fit for you,” I say and hurry away.

He follows.

“You know it wouldn’t kill you to be sweet every once in awhile,” Connor says.

I glance behind to find him tucking his book away in his back pocket. The bottom of his shirt rides up displaying a slither of skin. I force myself to quicken my pace.

“I can be sweet,” I remark, retreating.

Connor is too fast. I come to a stop and swirl around. He almost bumps into me but with his fluid manner, he’s able to stop in time.

“I’m just saying. You get a lot more bees with honey,” he replies.

We’re inches apart.

“What did you tell me before about bats, something about not wanting them around.”

His eyes narrow on me. I step closer to him ignoring the sudden nervous energy I feel.

“Why don’t you follow your own advice,” I finish and involuntarily wet my lips, the action drawing his attention.

“I try but I can’t help it when it comes to you,” he says in a serious tone.

I’m left speechless with the declaration. His eyes soften as they take in my flushed skin. I step away from him and find myself surprised when he continues to pursue.

“We can’t continue to act this way,” I say as I rally to regain my composure. Confusion laced with annoyance appears on Connor’s face.

“What do you mean?”

I take a big breath in an attempt to gather my courage.

“You’re hot. You’re cold. Sometimes you act as if you can’t stand me and then you do something that makes me think you’re actually interested. I can’t be around your mood swings.”

His mouth drops open in surprise, so I take the rare occurrence to continue.

“Look, I know you think what happened at Tom’s house was a mistake. That much is obvious since you ran out like someone lit a fire under your ass.”

He begins to say something but I cut him off.

“I get it.” I gesture with my hand. “I was the only girl for miles around and you couldn’t help yourself. I don’t need to hear your excuses. I want to start over- a fresh start, everything else is water under the bridge.”

I stand a little timid waiting for his response. He stares at me baffled without an ounce of his usual cockiness.

“Friends?” he says the word like a bad taste in his mouth.

I continue to wait in anticipation of his response. A crease appears between his brows as he consider my words.

“I can do that,” he says and gives a tired sigh, “but before I do I think it’s important to point out one thing.” His voice deepens. “You kissed me back.”

The doors to the library swing open and I jump away from my new trainer. Dad, wearing an easy grin, strolls into the room.

“Hey Connor. Did you find the book you wanted?”

Connor straightens.

“Not one of the ones we were talking about.”

He pulls out the aged book from his pocket.

“But I did find this one.”

My dad studies the cover.

“Oh yea, you found one of Millie’s favorite,” he says and reaches for the worn pages. “Remember this one Nix? I used to read it to you once a month when you were little.”

I smile at the use of Dad’s nickname for me. It’d been awhile since he was happy enough to call me by it.

“Um, but you sucked at doing the voices.”

He chuckles and says, “True.”

Connor retrieves the book from my father’s hand using it in a brief salute.

“Thanks. Well, I got to go. Chevy won’t train himself. See you later.”

He nods at us then leaves through the library's wooden doors.

“How many conversations have you had with him, Dad?” I asked mystified by their familiarity and the certainty Connor is actually training Chevy.

“Oh please.” He waves me off nonchalantly.

“No Dad, how many?” I ask, aiming for a sweeter tone.

“He came in yesterday and today. Not a big deal.”

Oh wow, maybe you could catch more bees with honey.

Dad continues, “The boy likes to read and wanted to know if we had some kind of book about wars and stars. I can’t remember exactly.”

With my muscles stinging, I plop down onto one of the wooden tables.

“Never heard of it,” I say.

“Me either but we might find a copy one day.” He pauses. “Anyway, who’s ready to work?”

The question earns a groan. I spend the rest of the afternoon with my dad. We make sure not to hit on certain topics like me being a scout or some of the questions I’ve been burning to ask him. Through all the cleaning and categorizing, I realize the degree of how much I’ve missed him. I just want to enjoy this peace between us for as long as it will last.

In the evening, we walk together to a memorial that is being held for Old Tom and the other two scouts lost from our community. No one else besides Lonnie, Jay and I, who left that same day has returned but we still have hope they will come home safely. The time of day is beautiful with a light breeze darting through the changing leaves. The sun warms my face as I stand motionless on the dried grass. Mr. Herdon says a few words about Tom but I’m not able to listen. Comprehension of anything he says will only make the rip in my chest grow wider. Instead, I allow my mind to drift to distant memories; ones that don’t involve the horrors of the past few days. I cling to my father recognizing his fragile strength. His arm tightens around me. A new voice starts to speak. It’s Lonnie.

“Timothy and Sandra were people of compassion. They both wanted to make a positive impact on our home and in the lives of those who live here. When I first started with the scouts, Timothy was my mentor.”

He continues to talk but I faze his voice out as well. I notice different voices begin to speak one by one but I don’t look up to recognize them. I refuse to say anything or process the meaning of their words. What can I utter to all those people that they don’t already know- details of Tom’s death?
No. I need to be stronger than this.
“Soft can get you killed.” Tom’s words haunt me.

“Millie, honey, it’s my turn.”

My dad releases me to speak to the crowd. Everyone has showed up to honor Tom, Sandra and Timothy. I feel bad I didn’t recall the other scouts’ names before their memorial began. Suddenly, I’m in another's embrace.

“I got her,” the velvet voice says lightly.

An image of summer nights lying in the tall grass breathing in the cool air enters my head. Connor’s warm breath tickles the tiny hairs on my neck. My heart flutters. He lays a hand over my hair.