Page 90 of Fighting for Brielle
He blinked. “No.”
Brielle luxuriated in the shower until the hot water ran out. Smelling vomit in her hair, she washed it again, and felt the tension in her muscles leave her body. After she dried herself, she found a cotton nightgown in the armoire and slipped it over her head. Her eyes swept the ceiling, noting the security camera, but it wasn’t recording her movements. She wondered if Carson turned it off, or if the camera operated on a timer, too.
Curious about the content in the books, she removed one off the shelf entitledA Legacy of Crime Against Humanity. Brielle read a few pages and tossed it aside. Nothing but propaganda designed to paint America in the worst possible light. Yawning, she eyed the bed. The hot shower sapped her strength. She sank onto the mattress and fell into a deep sleep.
She slept all day, though disturbing dreams plagued her. When she felt someone shaking her, she finally roused and rubbed her eyes.
“I thought you said visitors had to be buzzed in,” Brielle muttered in an irritable voice.
“You obviously woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Carson replied. “Sit up. It’s time for dinner. You slept through lunch.”
Dinner consisted of a roasted chicken breast, mashed potatoes and gravy, sweet buttered corn, a roll, and brownies for dessert.
“Anderson’s allies certainly eat well,” she remarked after taking a few bites of the chicken.
“Yeah. Healthy body, healthy…mind, and all that,” Carson said, throwing himself into the recliner.
“Healthy mind? Right,” Brielle drawled, sarcasm dripping from her voice.
“Just shut up and eat, McAdams.”
Brielle finished her meal and gulped the rest of a bottle of water. Her mini-fridge was stocked with plenty of water and juice, too, if she wanted it.
Carson watched her. “What are you thinking?” she asked.
“That being around someone like you is dangerous.”
“Why?”
“Because you make me question…myself.” His gaze held hers. “You asked if I have a sister. I honestly don’t remember. That’s the truth.”
“How long have you been an ally?”
Carson frowned and rubbed his forehead. “More than two years I think.”
“How did you meet Anderson?”
“Don’t remember.” His leg twitched. “I have a favor to ask. When your family and Chief McQuaid rescue you, I want you to kill me, Sergeant. Please. I don’t want to live like this.”
“Carson, no. I can’t do that.”
“Please. I’m begging you,” he pleaded. “Please. If you don’t resist the program, you’ll end up like me. Split. Broken.”
She nodded. “All right. But you have to do something for me in return.”
“What?”
“Get a message to Faith for me.”
* * *
She didn’t see Carson again until the next morning. He handed her a breakfast tray and uttered, “Love.”
Brielle’s heart rejoiced. That was Faith’s response to her code word: hope. They’d arranged the code words when they were in college to let the other know she was all right. If Faith’s memories had been completely wiped out, she wouldn’t have understood how to reply. She wanted to press Carson for details, but he’d already taken a huge risk for her. Not to mention her own trial commencing as soon as she finished eating. She had to focus on resisting the brainwashing techniques Schow would use on her today.
Carson spoke to her with quiet urgency as they headed toward the Research and Re-Education lab. “Fake it, McAdams. You can’t handle any more shocks to your system. Don’t let them put you in the sensory deprivation tank. It will drive you insane. Fake it. Please fake it.”
“I will.”
