truth. She couldn’t face the fact she’d created the monster inside of her, or that she had allowed Maura to take control.
No come back? Very well, shall we go and see Derrick? I suppose he’ll be at the infirmary by now.
Chapter 9
Derrick had tried to hang on for the entire punishment, but when the thirtieth lash slashed into his already mangled flesh, he’d succumbed to the blackness that called. His next thought was only of pain, but a sound drew him back to consciousness, if only for a minute.
“Lex?” he croaked, forcing his eyes to open a crack.
Her head lifted from her knees. She greeted him with the saddest of smiles and the purest of blue.
He tried to move his arm, his every instinct to comfort her, but with each flex of his muscle, fresh pain infiltrated his body, clouding his mind and threating to drag him back under.
Her tear-filled eyes widened. “Derrick, don’t move. You need to rest and heal.” Her hand clasped his, squeezing. “Go back to sleep,” she murmured.
How he wished he knew how to help her. He wanted to tell her not to cry, that none of this was her fault. Yet all he managed was a garbled gasp and then darkness descended once more.
It was a day later when he awoke. His eyes opened easier this time, though felt stiff. He scanned around as far as he could without moving his head, finding Lexia leant against the wall. Her hands slack with sleep, her head tilted forward on top of her bent knees.
“Lex?” he croaked.
When her head lifted, he was greeted with the cold gaze of Maura. “No.” She climbed to her feet, her joints cracking and popping as she moved. “I do wish Lexia would take better care of our body,” she moaned, pressing her hands to her back and stretching.
“Don’t talk like that!” Derrick hissed, his pain momentarily forgotten.
“Like what?” Maura replied, seeming genuinely interested.
“Like it’s your body too. You are the monster hijacking Lexia’s mind.”
Maura smiled. “Wrong. Lexia created me, remember? To save her precious Lincoln, and now she hides away because she can’t deal with the consequences of her actions.”
“I’m going to find a way to get rid of you!” he ground out through clenched teeth.
“Yes, yes, not the nicest of ways to talk to me, after I was so nice to go along with the little deal you made. Maybe next time I won’t be so inclined.”
Hearing the light steps of her feet, Derrick strained to see her, but the door slammed signaling her departure. Suddenly weary, Derrick closed his eyes drifting back to sleep, his mind on the woman he was so desperate to save.
It took three days for Derrick to heal enough to leave the infirmary. Neither Lexia nor Maura visited him again. It was Belinda who waited outside when he walked through the door.
“Derrick, you’re okay?”
“I’ll live. Fill me in,” he said, setting off knowing she’d follow.
“Right, straight back to work then?” she asked, jogging to keep up.
“Yes, I’ve already been out for too long as it is.” He couldn’t waste any more time. He needed to be near Lexia, keep her safe because she seemed to be cracking further each day.
“Well, nothing has happened really. Usual training. Lucy hasn’t sent anyone off site, no raids, just boring compound life.”
“Has Lucy been around?”
“Yes…I think. I’ve seen her maybe once. Why?”
“No more unexpected punishments?”
“No, like I said, boring life. Everyone is pretty freaked out about what happened. No one has stepped out of line.”
“And Le- Maura?”
“Holed up in her room, mostly. She’s only left for her training sessions.”
“Let’s go find her then,” he instructed. His walk through the compound consisted of many stares, some even cowered away from him, or quickly passed by as if just being near him, could mean receiving punishment.
His pace was determined, his outlook strong, yet his body ached with every movement; his skin still stretched tight and sore. Derrick saw again how cunning Lucy really was. He had a large following of hunters who trusted him and saw him as a leader. But now, they saw the fifty lashings he’d received. They saw an elite punished for stepping out of line. Lucy was very clever. She’d planned this, which meant she had other plans. Plans he feared were far worse than fifty lashings.
Chapter 10
Every morning Lincoln woke, he told himself, ‘this is the day. This is the day I sober up.’ He climbed out of bed with every intention of not touching the