Fracture Me (Shatter Me, #2.5)(2)

I shake him off, shoot him a dark look, and charge back down the hall.

James has all sorts of questions when I get back, but I’m still so angry I’m not ready to deal with him. It doesn’t seem to matter; James is stubborn as hell. I’m strapping on holsters and locking my weapons into place and he won’t back down.

“But then what did he say?” James is asking. “After you said we should find Warner?”

I adjust my pants, tighten the laces on my boots.

James taps my arm. “Adam.” He taps my arm again. “Did he know where Castle was?” Another tap. “Did he say what time you guys had to leave today?” More tapping. “Adam when are y—”

I pick him up and he squeaks; I place him in a far corner of the room.

“Addie—”

I throw a blanket over his head.

James shouts and struggles with the blanket until he manages to pull it off and throw it down. He’s red in the face and his fists are clenched and he’s finally mad.

I start laughing. I can’t help it.

James is so frustrated he has to spit the words out when he speaks. “Kenji said that I have as much right to know what’s happening down here as everyone else. Kenji never gets mad when I ask questions. He never ignores me. He’s never mean to me, and you’re being m-mean to me, and I don’t like it when you l-laugh at me—”

James’s voice breaks, and it’s only then that I look up. I notice the tears streaked across his cheeks.

“Hey,” I say, meeting him across the room. “Hey, hey.” I grip his shoulders, drop to one knee. “What’s going on? Why the tears? What happened?”

“You’re leaving.” James hiccups.

“Aw, c’mon,” I sigh. “You knew I was leaving, remember? Remember when we talked about this?”

“You’re going to die.” Another hiccup.

I raise an eyebrow at him. “I didn’t know you could tell the future.”

“Addie—”

“Hey—”

“I don’t call you Addie in front of anyone else!” James says, protesting before I have a chance to. “I don’t know why it makes you so mad. You said you loved it when Mom called you Addie. Why can’t I?”

I sigh again as I get to my feet, mussing his hair on my way up. James makes a strangled sound and jerks away. “What’s the problem?” I ask. I pull up my pants leg to attach a semiautomatic to the holster underneath. “I’ve been a soldier for a long time now. You’ve always known the risks. What’s different all of a sudden?”

James is quiet long enough for me to notice. I look up.

“I want to come with you,” he says, wiping his nose with a shaky hand. “I want to fight, too.”

My body goes rigid. “We’re not having that conversation again.”

“But Kenji said—”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass what Kenji said! You are a ten-year-old child,” I say. “You are not fighting in any war. Not walking onto any battlefield. Do you understand me?”

James stares at me.

“I said, Do you understand me?” I walk right up to him, grab his arms.

James flinches a little. “Yes,” he whispers.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir,” he says, staring at the ground now.

I’m breathing so hard my chest is heaving. “Never again,” I say quietly now. “We are never having this conversation. Not ever again.”

“Okay, Addie.”

I swallow hard.

“I’m sorry, Addie.”

“Get your shoes on.” I stare at the wall. “It’s time for breakfast.”





TWO


“Hi.”

Juliette is standing next to my table, staring at me like she might be nervous. Like we’ve never done this before.

“Hey,” I say.

Just seeing her face still makes my chest ache, but the truth is, I have no idea what’s going on between us anymore. I promised her I would find a way through this—and I’ve been training like hell, I really have—but after last night, I’m not gonna lie: I’m a little freaked out. Touching her is more serious than I ever thought it was.

She could’ve killed Kenji. I’m still not sure she hasn’t.

But even after all this, I still want a future with her. I want to know that one day we’ll be able to settle somewhere safe and be together in peace. I’m not ready to give up on that dream yet. I’m not ready to give up on us.

I nod at an empty seat. “You want to sit down?”

She does.

We sit in silence a little while, her poking at her food, me at mine. We usually eat the same thing every morning: a spoonful of rice, a bowl of vegetable broth, a chunk of rock-hard bread, and, on good days, a little cup of pudding. It’s not amazing, but it gets the job done, and we’re usually grateful for it. But today neither one of us seems to have an appetite.

Or a voice.

I sigh and look away. I don’t know why it’s so hard to talk to her this morning—maybe it’s the lack of Kenji—but things feel different between us lately. I want to be with her so badly, but being with her has never felt more dangerous than it does now. Every day we feel further apart. And sometimes I think the harder I try to hold on, the more she tries to break away.