Page 22 of Ronan

“What is the highest number someone has?”

“Five,” I answer, “and there are only six that hold that rank in the entire military. To put it into perspective, my superior officer is this base’s commander, and he has four stripes.”

“Alright, so you’re not a peon,” he concedes, tossing me another grin. “What do the others mean?”

I point at the one that reads ‘Glaston’ with an image of a tower underneath it. “This one designates my home base.”

“That’s where we are now? Glaston?” I nod, and he looks thoughtful. “How far are we from the rebel camp where I was taken?”

“Not terribly far… around fifty miles.” I can tell his mind is spinning as he processes the information, but he says nothing else. Just as the silence is turning uncomfortable, a boom against the door makes both of us jump in our seats.

“It’s me,” Elas yells from outside. “Hands are full.”

I stand to let him inside, and he sits a tray on the table that’s loaded up with two plates of food. It’s simple fare, rice and beans with a chunk of ham, but Cameron’s eyes grow wide as he stares at it. “You aren’t eating?” I ask Elas.

His dark eyes meet mine as his brow arches the tiniest amount. “Thought I’d keep watch out here just in case anyone comes by.” He leans closer, putting his lips against my ear. “Hard for you to win him over when all this fine man-meat is sitting in the corner tempting him.”

“Oh, fuck off,” I mutter, shoving his arm as he belts out a loud laugh, then saunters out the door.

Cameron is eying me curiously as I clear my throat and return to my seat. “What’s the story between you and him?”

“Elas?” I ask, scrunching my brows as I pass him his dinner. “We’ve known each other for most of our lives. He’s the closest thing to family I have left.”

“You aren’t… together?”

“Gods, no,” I say, pulling my face into a horrified expression as I meet his eyes again. “He’s practically a brother to me.”

He nods, focused on his plate as he scoops up a giant bite, holding his fork in front of his mouth. “You just seem really close.”

“Well, yes, we… wait.” His eyes dart up, staring at me over the frames of his glasses as I notice the pink tinge to his cheeks. “Are you jealous?”

Mouth full, he shakes his head defiantly. Once he swallows, he makes sure I’m aware of the heavy scowl he’s shooting in my direction. “Of course not.”

“It’s okay if you are,” I tease, grinning as his flush turns a shade darker.

“It’s just… it’s this stupid mark.” The humor falters from my face at the frustration in his voice. “It’s making me…” He catches himself, shaking his head again as he shoves another giant bite of food in his mouth.

“Making you what?”

“Feel weird,” he mutters.

“It is strange, isn’t it?” I ask, and he finally meets my eyes again. “The way it makes you impulsive to do things you normally wouldn’t do?”

“What does yours want you to do?” His voice is hesitant, and his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he waits for me to gather my thoughts.

My mouth opens and closes a few times, unaccustomed to being open with anyone aside from Elas. After a few more moments of hesitation, I reach across the table, palm up, as my heart thuds in my chest. “This.”

He stares at my hand for a long time, and just when I’m about to rip it back and expire on the spot from embarrassment, he reaches for me as well, tracing the tips of my fingers with his. “It’s dumb, isn’t it?” he whispers, and I don’t move a muscle in case I scare him off.

“Dumb isn’t the word I’d choose. Strange, yes. Foreign.”

“Inexplicable?”

“Indeed.” We sit like that for another stretch before he traces my fingertips once more and pulls his hand back to continue eating.

“Alright, monster, are you going to tell me how you plan on breaking my ass out of this prison, or is that supposed to be left to my imagination?” I huff a quiet laugh as I grab my fork, and I don’t miss the way he continues to smile as he finishes his meal.

Chapter 8

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