Page 17 of Kill Me Sweetly

JJ, not showing an ounce of the shock that the question had hit me with, just smiled. “I like you, Four, and I want to be your friend. Friends don’t hurt or upset each other.”

“I don’t know what a friend is. What is that?”

What the fuck?I gazed at JJ, whose eyes widened briefly.

“A friend is someone you have a connection with. They’re someone you trust, love, and share things with. You’re safe with your friends.”

Four didn’t say anything. He took a bite, his brow furrowed, and JJ continued.

“Whose blood was all over you when we found you?”

“Man, tried to mug me.”

I guessed some random guy was dead somewhere but he seemed like a piece of shit, so I didn’t care to know more. The others either shrugged or nodded as if they too were fine with his answer.

“Why do you only speak to us when you are eating sweet things?”

That’s a good one to start with, I thought, my eyes never leaving Four.

“When given a dessert, it’s a reward and the only time speaking is acceptable. Follow the rules; get the rewards.” His tone was matter of fact, no inflection, almost as if he were reading from a manual.

“And how long have you had to follow this rule?”

Four regarded JJ briefly. “Forever.”

That was vague but told us that at least for as far as Four’s memories took him, this had been his way of life…and what a shit show that was.

“Would you like some milk?” JJ pushed the glass closer. Four sniffed it, took it, and drank a few sips.

“Good.”

JJ chuckled. “Cold milk and cookies are my favorite.”

Four cocked his head as if JJ’s words were foreign to him, but what exactly confused him he never said.

“Hard question.” JJ took a loud breath. “What is the Alabastrine Consortium?”

Four stopped midchew, eyes wide as he stared at JJ.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Four’s response was rehearsed.

“He’s not going to tell you,” Max interrupted. “Look what happened to me when I told a friend about it—I’m sentenced to death.”

JJ grunted. “Four, we want to protect you, help you get away from them. Don’t you want that?”

“I don’t understand.”

Mason sighed. “JJ, he’s brainwashed—Stockholm Syndrome, something like that. None of us are equipped to break him free of anything like that.”

“We need a professional, but bringing anyone else in is dangerous,” I stated.

“Four, can I ask you why you were in dirty clothes with no shoes when I met you?” JJ’s voice was soft.

“Not allowed home before I was done.”

“Done with what?” JJ was pushing, and maybe if we didn’t ask him directly about the consortium he’d tell us more.

“My job.” Four regarded Maxwell, then in a flash began eating again.

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