Thicker Than Blood (Thicker Than Blood #1)(64)
“A-A?” I asked.
“Alexander Adams,” he answered through his teeth, his gaze hard as he stared at me. “My name.”
“One more A and you could start a travel club,” Evelyn joked without humor, but neither Alex nor I even attempted a smile. There was nothing funny about any of this.
“Who’s next?” Alex asked.
I looked at Evelyn, who shrugged in return. “I’ll go,” she said. “You guys need to talk.”
As she disappeared inside the room, pulling the door shut behind her, I suddenly couldn’t bring myself to look at Alex. He was glaring at me, no, his eyes were wishing a thousand daggers to pierce my heart. And even though I knew I didn’t owe him an explanation for my decision, his behavior was making me feel as if I did.
“It could be worse,” I quietly told the floor. “I could be stripping, or…” I finally looked up at him and raised my arms in a helpless gesture. “I can’t fight, Alex! What did you want me to do?”
He didn’t respond, just continued to stare, those dark eyes of his burning angry holes straight through me.
“Alex,” I whispered, my tone taking on a hint of desperation. “Say something!”
He didn’t, of course he didn’t, but my words seemed to trigger something in him. His shoulders sagged, and his scowl faded. Shaking his head, he leaned against the wall behind him and folded his arms over his chest.
I sighed and reached for him, attempting to pry his arms away from his body. It took several pulls, me getting nowhere against his strength until he finally chose to relent. Dropping his arms, he allowed me to wrap mine around his waist and press myself against him.
Several moments passed, his stubbornness knowing no bounds, me gripping him tightly and him refusing to reciprocate. But I wasn’t going to give up, wasn’t going to allow something so meaningless to drive our small group apart. I kissed his chest, dug my fingertips into his lower back, and kissed him again and again through his dirty T-shirt until finally he sighed. Reluctantly, he lifted his arms and brought them around me.
Another moment passed, and then he lifted me up off my feet and into his arms, holding me so tightly I could barely catch a breath.
? ? ?
As I followed behind our newest guide, a prostitute named Bethany who couldn’t have been more than twenty and was noticeably naked under her nearly sheer robe, I took in what was one of the many living quarters in Purgatory. This particular building was five stories high, resembling a college dorm with door after door after door, and very few windows. But this was far from a dorm, the walls decorated with an odd mix of spray-paint art and framed art, the paintings all easily recognizable as past works from historically famed painters.
And there were padlocks on nearly every single door.
“Doorknob locks didn’t cut it,” Bethany offered when she caught me staring. “Too many break-ins.”
I gaped, wondering what anyone still had these days that would be worth stealing, and why people would be willing to take such a high risk. Maybe I was just being naive about it all, but Purgatory’s rules were laid out to us by Liv, and they were strict and harsh. The first time you stole, you lost a hand. The second time you stole, you were put in a cage, infected, and left to turn. You took another man’s woman, you lost another vital body part and got strung up in a cage, infected, and left to turn.
Each incident had the same outcome. You became an infected and were left in a cage to rot. I hadn’t yet seen any cages or infected, but it was a horrific and painful death to contemplate, and a terrible reminder to everyone not to steal or cause trouble, yet apparently not a complete deterrent.
“When you’re home,” she continued, “you keep your door locked from the inside, and when you leave, make sure you lock it from the outside.”
We followed her in silence, the three of us simply taking in our surroundings. We passed a pair of young children playing alone in the hallway with a set of colorful blocks. I offered them a smile that they both returned with apprehensive looks, which only made my mood darker.
“Since you’ve got two claims, Liv wanted you all in the family building.” Bethany shrugged, dramatically flipping her long black hair over her shoulder. Slowing her pace, she turned to look over her shoulder, giving Alex a long, appraising look. “If you’re looking for another girl, I’d be more than happy to give you a freebie, give you a taste of heaven, honey.”
She stopped walking altogether, forcing the rest of us to stop as well. Placing her palm against Alex’s chest, she ran her red-tipped fingers across his T-shirt. Her tongue darted out, sliding slowly over her full bottom lip. “That’s what they call my * ’round here,” she whispered as she slid her hand down his stomach.
Shocked, I watched with more than a little anger-fueled jealousy as she boldly took a handful of Alex’s crotch. “Heaven,” she purred throatily, her fingers flexing.
My breathing grew shallow, seconds seeming like hours as my heart pounded an unsteady rhythm inside my chest. Why didn’t he slap her away, or better yet, take her by her slutty throat and squeeze the life from her? Resentment flared inside me, and I struggled to contain my annoyance at both her and him.
Alex’s hand covered hers and peeled her hand off him before he pushed her away and took a step back. “Maybe another time,” he said stonily, thankfully looking as disgusted as I was feeling.