Page 93 of Mimic
I smiled at Mimic, and he kissed me. I never had a childhood. I never went to school dances, like prom and homecoming. So, I’d never experienced that schoolgirl crush, or being asked to be someone’s girlfriend. And while Mimic hadn’t technically asked me to be his old lady, he put this cut on me, letting everyone know that was exactly who I was.
“How are you feeling, Indie?” King asked. “After everything.”
A moment of panic filled me until Mimic leaned over and whispered, “He means the memories.”
“Oh, those. It’s a lot.” I dipped my eyes, focusing on my hands. “I’ve kind of been ignoring them.”
“I’ll bet.” Jack laughed. “Locked up in a room with Mimic all day, I don’t imagine much thinking was happening at all.”
A few of the brothers snickered, but Gunner growled.
“What is your problem?” I asked him.
“Nothing,” he mumbled.
“Ignore him, Indie.” I turned at Haizley’s voice as she sat beside me. “Sorry I’m late.” She smacked Gunner’s arm. “Be nice.”
He returned a grunt and looked away.
I knew he was angry with me. I’d lied. I needed to apologize to him. In private after the meeting.
“Indie, what can you tell us?”
I turned my attention to King, ignoring Gunner for the time being. I wasn’t sure how much to confess. I looked at Mimic, his hand covering mine. “I’m right here.”
“The training started early. Not as soon as we got there, but not long after, I think it was less than a year. We were taught to fight, to kill. We were taught recon, all our schooling—everything was during those classes.”
“Why didn’t you answer when Jack asked you a question?” Colt asked.
“We weren’t allowed to speak. If we spoke, we were punished.” And it was brutal. So we stayed quiet. No matter what happened, our voice stayed locked inside our minds.
“Guns?” Cash asked.
I nodded. “Guns, knives, household objects. They left nothing to chance.” Tears filled my eyes as I let the memories wash over me.
“Indie,” Haizley said softly. “What is it, honey?”
I couldn’t look up. I kept my eyes focused on my hands as I twisted my fingers and bit my lip.
“Indie, it wasn’t your fault. Whatever you did, you had no control over.”
I looked up at her. I knew she was right, but it didn’t matter. I was still responsible. “I killed people.”
“We expected that, Indie,” King tried to reassure me, but I shook my head.
“You don’t understand. Innocent people. There were men and women, yes. Men who had been awful to us, they had paid to have sex with us, but they were awful. They must have done something to piss off Devlin, because he let us practice on them. Women too.”
I took a deep breath. “But there were children. Girls the same age as us. He pitted us against each other. And only one was expected to survive.”
“Fuck.”
“That sick son of a bitch.”
“Too bad he’s already dead.” That came from Jingles, the other enforcer. Like Mimic, it was his job to interrogate people. His face showed anger, but there was something in his eyes that said he was good at what he did, and he enjoyed it.
“Indie, this wasn’t your fault. You were being controlled. You had no choice but to defend yourself.” Haizley’s soft, calm voice was helpful, but it didn’t erase what I had done.
“I know. But that doesn’t make it any easier. I wonder if somehow Jenny remembered.”
