Page 17 of This Blood That Breaks Us
I hated the idea of it. If it were true, there wasn’t anything right in the world. Because there was no way Luke would be with someone like Her, and he didn’t deserve to be here. He should have been back on that mountain baking cookies with our brothers and singing songs.
“Then why at every turn do we end up in the same place? Why does it feel truer than anything else?”
“Just because it feels like that doesn’t make it true,” I grumbled.
“You always say that.”
“You should listen to me, then.” I sat up to glare at him. “You’re not the only one allowed to be right. We ended up here again. So what? It doesn’t mean anything. It could be worse.”Not really.
“We can see it as an extended holiday. We’ve never been out of the country. Could be a new opportunity,” I said.
“For?”
“Change,” I said.
I was shit at pep talks. What Luke needed most of the time was to get out of his head.
“Come on. Quit moping around. Let’s do something fun.” I hopped up off my bed.
“Fun? How is anything fun here?”
“We’ll make it fun.”
“We’ll make being in a cult fun?”
“Fuck yeah.”
I walked up to his bed and held out my hand to pull him up.
Luke groaned. “I really wanted to rot away in here all night.”
“I know. That’s why we need to get out. Where’s all that team spirit?”
I used to make fun of Luke for the football thing. He’d been good at it, like he was good at everything he did. It was all in good fun. I’d enjoyed watching him play while I slunk around behind the stands and smoked.
“I don’t have any little brothers to encourage anymore.”
“Technically, I’m younger than you.”
“Shut up.”
We walked into the hallway. A man, who I’d hardly call a man, stood outside our door. He blushed before he bowed.
“H-hi, I’m Connell. I’m so honored to meet you both.” He looked at the ground. “I’ve heard so much about you from the others who knew you before you were . . . Well, I can’t tell you how excited I am to finally see you in person. If you need anything, please tell me. I’ll get it done.”
Luke and I shared the same wide-eyed confusion, but I knew what Luke was thinking. This kid was young. He had to be newly turned and no older than eighteen. It didn’t help he had short curly blond hair and was the same height as Presley. At least he had blue eyes and a thick Irish accent. It didn’t matter either way. Luke had that savior look in his eye like he wanted to wrap the kid in a hug and tell him to make better choices.
He couldn’t help himself, and it wasn’t just anyone who was younger but anyone weaker who needed help. It’s like he could sense it in people. The only woman in the store who had a hard day and needed her groceries taken to her car. Or the old man taking longer at the bench because he was waiting for someone to help him get up because his knees were shot. He had a radar for it, and I was always there, right next to him, holding those groceries or grabbing the other hand. They’d thank me too, andI’d smile back. It made Luke radiantly happy, but for me . . . nothing.
That goodness would hurt. He would try to get this kid’s story and get too attached. I needed to be the buffer.
“You new?” I asked.
“Yeah. I got inducted last week. It was exhilarating,” Connell said while he scratched his freckled arm. His face was covered in them too.
“Where are your parents?”
“They’re gone, sir. My mum died young, and my dad was reaped.”
