Page 78 of Dissent

And I still couldn’t help but think that, if I hadn’t gone, he might have never been hurt as badly as he was. And what was worse, he blamed me for Chelsea. And he was right to blame me. I knew Edith said it was all a setup, but even if it was, Chelsea took that bullet for me. I knew it. I saw it with my own eyes. It was my fault she was captured and most likely dead.

I shook my head, trying to clear it.Just focus on one thing at a time.I reached over and pulled the curtain to give myself some privacy and quickly stripped my clothing, leaving only my bra and underwear on. I slipped the hospital gown over my arms, feeling the cold fabric glide across my skin as goose pimples rose over my whole body.

Of course…the damn thing didn’t close in the back, and I was left feeling a breeze tickling my spine. A chill shook through me, and I did my best to shake it off as I sat back down on the cot.

How was I supposed to do this? How was I supposed to go back to training with Wes when he was released? And the guilt…the guilt of Chelsea’s capture was tearing me apart. I felt it constantly. Ever since we left her behind, I had waking dreams of gunfire and her collapsing to the floor in a heap.

I groaned. I needed to clear this up, to clear the air with Wes. I needed to apologize for everything. He probably wouldn’t accept it, and that was okay—I deserved it. But I owed it to him. I owed it toher, but she wasn’t here. I’d have to take that shit to my grave, but at least I could gain some semblance of peace with him.

I chewed on my thumb nail as I stood, and then rubbed my arms as more gooseflesh skittered across my skin. Taking a step toward the curtain, hand outstretched, I gripped the fabric, but then hesitated.

What if he hated me?

Of coursehe hated me. What kind of lame question was that? Wes knew I was to blame for Chase’s death, and I knew he despised me for it. That was abundantly clear. But a part of me really wanted to mend the bridge with him. After all, he was Chase’s brother. Chase would have wanted us to get along, right? And, if I was being honest with myself, Iwantedhim to like me. I didn’t want it to be weird and caustic every time we were together.

After that night at the processing facility, I had officially branded myself as an enemy of Telvia, no doubt about it. There was no going back. Whether or not I liked it, I was a rebel now, a dissenter of the Telvian way. I had sealed my fate. The rebel base was my new home. I might as well make it as comfortable as possible. And it would make things a lot easier if Wes and I could at least be amicable.

I breathed in deeply through my nose, mustered my courage, and then dragged back the curtain. Wes was lying in a cot, dressed in a similar hospital gown as mine, with a blanket draped over his lower half. He was propped up into a laid back, sitting position, his eyes closed. He appeared to be dozing, and I couldn’t help but stare. Wisps of blond hair were swept back except for one bit, draping over the side of his face, framing his eye. His face sported his strong jawline and smooth skin.

I was paralyzed. I rarely saw Wes look so calm and relaxed. Maybe at the Rock, but that was different. There was a deadness about him that didn’t feel right, but this…this was nothing like that. He looked peaceful. And this look brought out something so…beautiful. Like, he was actually beautiful to look at. And handsome. Like his brother, he was incredibly gorgeous.

Jeez, get a grip!This wasn’t Chase, and he didn’t need me gawking at him. This was a bad idea. I decided against it and replaced the curtain.

“What do you want?”

I jumped as his familiar, husky voice snapped me to attention. I pulled the sheet back, my eyes greeted by his hazel ones.

“Uh…nothing. I just wanted to see you.”

He arched a brow. “Are all Telvians into staring at people while they sleep?”

My cheeks burned like an inferno. “I didn’t mean to. I was…I just didn’t want to wake you.”

His dubious stare penetrated me for a second before he closed his eyes again. “Well, you’ve seen me. Now you can leave,” his tone acidic.

Ouch.

I should have known this was a waste of time. I muttered an apology under my breath and turned around, replacing the curtain.

“Wait…”

I paused mid-step.

“Just…just hang on a sec. Come back,” he said.

It was my turn to raise a brow. I obediently pulled the curtain back again. “Yes?”

“Turn around.”

“What?”

“You heard me…turn around,” he repeated.

My lips parted in confusion, brows pinched. Blowing out a breath, I turned, facing away from him.

“What are those?”

“What?” I looked over my shoulder at him. “What are what?”

---