Wilde card, p.23
Wilde Card, page 23
“I can't.”
She froze, her eyes narrowing in confusion. “What do you mean? Oh no, are you gay?”
Jay shook his head, laughed humourlessly and ran a hand over his face. “God, I wish. Because then I wouldn't have to do this.”
She was still looking at him, dumbfounded, waiting for an explanation. He was flushed, his chest heaving.
“Your father just died, and you're on a mission to solve his murder. Now, I don't know what happened in there with you and Anya, but I know that it made you angry enough to be here, doing this, with me.”
“What the hell, Jay?” She was incredulous. This whole time he had been claiming that he liked her, that he would prove it to her, chasing her...and he was going to fall at the final hurdle like this? After she had just practically offered herself to him on a platter?
“I'm not that guy.”
“What guy would that even be?”
She watched him stand up to retrieve his shirt. He handed her the vest she'd discarded and - she couldn't help it - she snatched it from him. She was annoyed, that much was for sure. She turned her back to him as she dressed and sorted herself out. She didn't bother retying her hair, she just swept it back from her shoulders. Beneath the anger was a deep sense of embarrassment, burning away, heating the back of her neck. She didn’t look at him again.
“Don't follow me,” she said.
“Tia-”
“Don't.” She held her hand out to warn him, as she threaded her hair through the neck of her jumper. If he tried to touch her, she thought she just might kill him. She stalked out of the room, her pulse pounding in her ears. She could go back to Anya’s office and finish what she had started. And get kicked out. She could go back to the library and finish reading the journal. Can't concentrate right now. She could go get started on her new chores thanks to Natalia’s disciplinary. Hell no. In the end, there was only one thing that was always guaranteed to calm her down. She needed to find high ground.
◆◆◆
Four hours and a few bruises later, Tia re-entered the Tunnels. Jessie had left a note at home; overnight shift at the hospital, egg fried rice in the microwave. I love you x The only problem was that Tia didn’t want to stay at home by herself. It would be the first time since Andy had died and Tia just didn’t know if she could take it...not tonight. Sometimes she had nightmares, and they usually happened when Jessie was working nights. So she’d scarfed down the rice, packed some stuff into a small duffel bag and headed back. It was too late to turn up at Kal’s - his mother would throw a fit. So she had only one option.
Even though almost everyone in the Rebellion had a family, a home and a job to go back to, there were dozens of dorm rooms scattered throughout the compound, dating back to the war. They were only a small fraction of the original number since they had been sealed off from the rest of the ‘underground City’ - as Harry called it - where there were hundreds more. The Rebellion had converted the majority of them, seeing as they would have no need for so many dorm rooms. Some were used for storage and contained abandoned furniture, broken miscellania and stores of weapons and food. A few of them, however, were kept clean and dusted, ready to use in the event that they were actually needed.
It was close to midnight and the usual symphony of noise from the hustle and bustle was now muted. It was odd; she was already so used to all the activity during the daylight hours. Her footsteps were silent against the soft ground and she mused on the fact that since she had started her training, she had become quieter, more graceful. She hadn’t ever thought it possible, having always been as graceful as a bull in a China shop. But her training had taken her to a higher level of inner peace that she was beginning to really understand. There was something about training with another person, trusting them with her safety, that was just so much better than running alone.
She found herself approaching the handful of dormitories beside the library - the only rooms that she knew of - and chose door 22. It was the number of years her parents had been married.
It was claustrophobic, she realised, stepping inside. There were eight bunk beds crammed inside, pushed against the curving walls. It was dark inside the room as well, though she saw that there was a light switch by the door. She hit it with the palm of her hand and a dull bulb flickered on overhead. Dust swirled into the air from the switch and she sneezed. She looked around at the dank room and shuddered. There was no way she could stay here tonight. It was dismal. She would definitely have nightmares. She turned the light off and shut the door behind her. She knew where she would rather stay; the infirmary was bigger, spacious, brighter and unoccupied.
Tia often pictured her parents walking these corridors. She’d learned her way around a lot faster than she thought she would, and she found herself amused at the thought of Andy trying to navigate - his memory had never been great. She pictured Jessie notching an arrow into her bow and shooting targets dead in the centre whilst Andy practiced his spinning kicks beside her. Her parents had made a good team; nearly everyone on the Council had made a point of telling her this. Now that she knew her parents had been lying to her - or well, hiding things from her - for her whole life, she wondered how they had really met. In fact, she wondered if they had ever told her the truth. It made her sad to think that she wouldn’t hear real anecdotes from her father, hadn’t even had the chance. She had no doubt that they would have been exciting.
Thinking of Andy when she felt so lost wasn’t a good idea. She would have prevented herself from doing so if she could...but all the feelings she had pushed down were spilling forth. She was a mess. During her whole life, she had never had to hide things from Jessie, nor had she ever lied to Kal. And now, suddenly, she was lying to her mother, hiding things from her best friend, losing her scholarship, getting into arguments with boys...when had she begun to unravel? With everything spiralling out of control like it was, was there even any point in pretending that it was all okay?
A sound jolted her out of her thoughts. She paused, trying to decide whether she should just carry on to the infirmary or follow her ear. On one hand, she was in pain and she knew she needed to rest. On the other hand, she wasn’t tired at all. There was a restless energy within her body that not even a run had solved. In the end, she didn’t follow the voice of reason. As she closed in on the sound, she recognised it for what it was: a rhythmic, masculine grunt. She zeroed in on a room at the far end, no door, just a gaping hole in the wall. The room was considerably dimmer than the sparring rooms and it was more like the dorm rooms in that she had to squint until her eye sight adjusted. She could see that it was a workout room; punching bags hung from the wall, weights adorned the back wall, and there were benches, ancient looking treadmills, monkey bars nailed to a sloping part of the ceiling. The whole room looked as if it had been roughly carved out of the wall.
It would have been impressive - had she not seen the figure at the far end. The room paled in comparison. She was wearing only a sports bra, a pair of faded shorts and battered trainers. She caught her breath at the sight. The muscles in her back were like coiled ropes, her shoulder blades sharp beneath the sweat that drenched her. As Tia stared, she threw herself into the air, gracefully twisting the mass of her body off the floor, and drove a foot into the heavy bag dangling in front of her. She gave off the appearance that it was an easy enough manoeuvre but grunted as the bag pushed back against her weight. She hit the floor in a soundless crouch as it swung back to position, where it would have surely knocked her off her feet if she hadn't moved. Tia didn’t even know that she was still holding her breath until it snaked back out. The room was not quiet - the sound of water rushing through the pipes was always a constant friend - but it was quiet enough. Natalia turned her head sharply and saw Tia standing in the doorway.
Tia couldn’t have been more shocked if she’d thrown a knife at her. Natalia, too, was surprised to see Tia. She rose, dusting off her hands. “What are you doing here?”
Natalia was built like an athlete, the muscles carved into her body like cobbles. She could have been made out of marble for all the apparent softness of her stomach. Tia was drawn to the sharpness of her bones. Underneath her clothes, Natalia was a whole different person. Tia had seen her shirtless but Natalia had been sitting down both times, hunched inwards. She had never imagined Natalia would look like this; she was tall, lean - she gave off the appearance of quiet strength...not all of this muscle. She was slimmer than Jay, for example, who was broad and built. Natalia was also more graceful than Jay, carrying her weight like it was...well, weightless.
Tia had never really appreciated the human body until she had joined the Rebellion. She was surrounded by constant reminders of strength and control. There was something beautiful in having so much self-discipline. Not that, at this very moment in time, she knew anything about self control. Her mouth was dry in a way that she had only ever attributed to thirst. It was strange to be experiencing it now.
She tried not to stare at Natalia as she approached but fascination quickly turned to horror as Natalia stepped into the lighting. She was covered in scars, ranging from pink to white, new to old. Tia gasped and stopped in her tracks. Her hands had automatically come up to cover her mouth, her bag falling to the ground. Circling both of Natalia’s upper arms was a thick, white scar, as if something had been tied around them for long enough to cut into the skin. Dotted at random around her heaving chest were small burn marks the size of a cigarette. Then, of course, there was the burn mark Tia had seen before, on her wrist. Natalia was covered in these little imperfections. A myriad of small scars, starting from her collarbones, trailed all the way down to her legs.
“Natalia,” Tia whispered, her brain stuttering. Tia saw something flash in Natalia’s eyes - disgust, maybe - and she backed away, out of direct light. Her dark blue irises were stormy, closed off to Tia. Tia couldn’t look away; she’d never seen her like this before. She didn't want to look away.
“No, don’t - come back. Please.” She hurried forward, to pull Natalia back into the light. She flinched at Tia’s outreached hand.
“I don’t want you to see me like this.”
Her voice was rough, quiet, like it so rarely ever was. Tia had to strain to hear it, but she continued to approach her anyway. She was single minded, she had forgotten the ache in her body and the need for sleep. Natalia watched, her face twisted into an unreadable expression - almost helpless - as Tia wrapped her fingers around Natalia’s arm and pulled her back. Natalia winced at the pressure Tia put on her stitches, the ones she had done for her. For the first time since she’d known her, Natalia had no sarcastic comment to make or harsh words, no resistance. She stepped forward, lost. She was holding her arms by her sides at an awkward angle and with a shock Tia realised that she was trying to prevent herself from clenching those hands into fists.
“Turn around, Natalia.”
She hesitated. “You don’t have to-”
“Turn around!”
The words burst from Tia and she surprised herself as much as Natalia. Natalia did as she was told. Tia’s vision became blurry as tears sprang to her eyes. Natalia stood with her shoulders caved in, as if she was trying to make herself smaller but it did nothing to hide the horror etched into her skin. The entirety of Natalia’s back was scarred. It was criss-crossed with white-pinkish lines, like it had been completely stripped raw at one point. Through Tia’s tears, there wasn’t a single patch of skin that was unmarked. Some of them were dark, like they had been incredibly deep, and some of them were jagged as if they had been made with glass. The myriad of stories scratched into Natalia’s skin brought her stomach to nausea. Tia reached out a trembling hand but couldn’t actually bring herself to touch her.
She inhaled sharply. “You lied to me.”
Natalia turned around quickly. ”No. I didn’t lie to you...I just didn’t tell you the whole truth.”
She looked devastated. Natalia hated to be vulnerable and, to her, this would be the ultimate show of weakness. It didn’t fit into her image of being a source of strength; everything her uncle had bullied her into becoming.
“You lied to me. Talia, what did he do to you?”
“Sometimes a belt. Sometimes...other things.”
Tia gasped, struggled for air. Her whole system had gone into shock. In her mind's eye, she could picture some of the jagged scars matching up with a serrated blade.
“And those?” She pointed at the circles on Natalia’s upper arms, just above the angry, red wound where Summer had stabbed her. Natalia didn't have to look down to know what Tia meant.
“The first time I talked back to him, he tied my arms behind my back and left me on the floor until I wet myself. I was 8.”
Tia felt bile rise in her throat. She held the back of her hand to her mouth and backed away. She knew it wouldn’t change anything but she didn’t think it was good for Natalia to see how much her pain affected Tia. She was disgusted, but not with Natalia.
Natalia moved with her and before she knew what was happening, Tia had tripped over her bag and was falling backwards. Natalia lurched and grabbed her, stabilising Tia who cried out from the pressure of her grip. Natalia hadn’t grabbed her hard but Tia had landed on her arm earlier. Natalia noticed her reaction and looked down to see that it was bruised and tender. She released her, moving away.
“Tia, please, it’s not as bad as it looks. Don't be upset-”
“Upset? I'm not upset, I'm angry. I want to KILL him,” Tia growled, ignoring the throb in her arm. She couldn't believe she'd been in the same room as the monster who had done this to Natalia and she'd left him intact. If she ever saw him again-
And then Natalia did something that Tia wasn’t expecting. She began to laugh. Tia didn’t see what was so funny, not at all, but her deep chuckle lightened the atmosphere. She found that she wasn’t crying anymore. Natalia wiped away a lingering tear from her cheek. “Tia, it’s ancient history. What are you doing here anyway?”
She changed the topic so swiftly that Tia knew it was off the table. When Natalia didn't want to discuss something there was no point arguing it. Tia watched her turn away to pick up her shirt from the bench. The sweat had cooled on her body and goosebumps had risen on her skin. Tia couldn’t understand how she could just brush something like this off so easily, but then she’d had years to come to terms with her scars and Tia’d had only seconds. She took a few moments to compose herself before she answered.
“I didn’t want to be alone tonight.” As soon as she spoke, she winced. She hadn’t meant to say anything so personal but her heart was still racing and she wasn’t thinking clearly. Quickly, she added: “Why are you here?”
Natalia shrugged her top back on and used the bottom of it to dry her face. Tia noticed that her knuckles were red raw from hitting the punching bag and wondered how long she’d been at it and why she didn't wear gloves. Natalia hesitated. “Matthew went out. I don’t see the point in waiting for him to come stumbling in the next morning.”
Tia rolled her eyes. “Isn’t alcohol expensive? Where does he get the money?”
Natalia made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a huff. “He hasn’t bought any new clothes since I was a kid.”
“I’ve never had alcohol but it must be worth it, if he wants to spend all his money on it.”
Natalia paused and raised one of her defined eyebrows. “Wait, never?”
“Yeah...what’s the surprise?”
She tilted her head and smiled slowly, a mischievous smile that Tia hadn’t seen on her face in years. It reminded Tia of all the things they used to get up to when they were younger. She'd see that smile and she'd know that their day was about to get really fun. Five minutes later they were sneaking into the council room. Natalia hadn’t turned on the lights but there was enough coming from the hallway to illuminate their way. The last time she’d been in here, she hadn’t noticed the cabinets at the back of the room. They were about waist high and locked with a key. Tia watched as Natalia pulled a lanyard from her back pocket and unlocked the closest cabinet. She flung the doors wide and Tia saw bottle after bottle lined up.
“Is that all alcohol?” she asked.
“It’s where we keep all the stuff from raids that shouldn’t necessarily be shared out.”
Natalia seemed to be looking for a particular one. She found it - a squat, bulbous bottle containing a light brown liquid. Beneath the top shelf was a stack of plastic cups and she shook out two, locked the cabinet and slipped the keys back into her pocket. ”I think you’ll like this one most.”
They sat in the very far corner, backs against the wall, just beneath a wide stream of light from the corridor. It made Natalia’s hair look like black gold. No one who walked past would be able to see them unless they were looking. They huddled over the bottle and she poured whilst Tia held the cups. There was barely any liquid in hers when Natalia sat back - in fact, in either of them. Tia didn’t say anything, just waited for her to screw the lid back onto the bottle and set it aside. It had a sharp, acrid aroma, the kind that made Tia’s nose scrunch up.
“You’re supposed to make a toast before you drink, traditionally.” Natalia held up her cup and Tia copied her. “To your father,” she surprised Tia by saying.
She hesitated. ”To my father.”
Natalia had never given her condolences for Andy’s death, nor apologised for her own absence during Tia’s grieving, but she appreciated the toast. She did as Natalia did and threw the liquid back into her throat. She had seen films, scenes of people drinking, celebrating, enjoying...so she wasn’t expecting the bitter explosion in her mouth or the instant burn in her chest. She coughed, hard, as the liquor hit her throat. Natalia was patting her on the back, none too gently, and laughing. Tia managed to glare at her as she spluttered.
“That is absolutely disgusting.”
