eyes cautious. I never thought I’d be so happy to see him. But while it’s a relief to see a face I recognize, my stomach immediately twists into a knot of guilt, knocking me over from the inside. I wonder how badly I must’ve hurt him. He steps forward.
My guilt disappears.
I look more closely and realize he’s perfectly unharmed. His leg is working fine. His face is back to normal. His eyes are no longer puffy, his forehead is repaired, smooth, untouched. He was right.
He does have a spectacular face.
A defiant jawline. Perfect eyebrows. Eyes as pitch-black as his hair. Sleek. Strong. A bit dangerous.
“Hey, beautiful.”
“I’m sorry I almost killed you,” I blurt out.
“Oh.” He startles. Shoves his hands into his pockets. “Well. Glad we got that out of the way.” I notice he’s wearing a destroyed T-shirt. Dark jeans. I haven’t seen anyone wear jeans in such a long time. Army uniforms, cotton basics, and fancy dresses are all I’ve known lately.
I can’t really look at him. “I panicked,” I try to explain. I clasp and unclasp my fingers.
“I figured.” He cocks an eyebrow.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
I nod. “You look better.”
He cracks a grin. Stretches. Leans against the wall, arms crossed at his chest, legs crossed at the ankles. “This must be difficult for you.”
“Excuse me?”
“Looking at my face. Realizing I was right. Realizing you made the wrong decision.” He shrugs. “I understand. I’m not a proud man, you know. I’d be willing to forgive you.”
I gape at him, unsure whether to laugh or throw something. “Don’t make me touch you.”
He shakes his head. “It’s incredible how someone can look so right and feel so wrong. Kent is a lucky bastard.”
“I’m sorry—” Psychologist-man stands up. “Are you two finished here?” He looks to Kenji. “I thought you had a purpose.” Kenji pushes off the wall. Straightens his back. “Right. Yeah. Castle wants to meet her.”
FORTY-FOUR
“Now?” Blondie is more confused than I am. “But I’m not done examining her.”
Kenji shrugs. “He wants to meet her.”
“Who’s Castle?” I ask.
Blondie and Kenji look at me. Kenji looks away. Blondie doesn’t.
He cocks his head. “Kenji didn’t tell you anything about this place?”
“No.” I falter, uncertain, glancing at Kenji, who won’t look at me. “He never explained anything. He said he knew someone who had a safe place and thought he could help us—”
Blondie gapes. Laughs so hard he snorts. Stands up.
Cleans his glasses with the hem of his shirt. “You’re such an ass,” he says to Kenji. “Why didn’t you just tell her the truth?”
“She never would’ve come if I told her the truth.”
“How do you know?”
“She nearly killed me—”
My eyes are darting from one face to the other. Blond hair to black hair and back again. “What is going on?” I demand. “I want to see Adam. I want to see James. And I want a set of clothes—”
“You’re naked?” Kenji is suddenly studying my sheet and not bothering to be subtle about it.
I flush despite my best efforts, flustered, frustrated. “Blondie said they destroyed my clothes.”
“Blondie?” Blond man is offended.
“You never told me your name.”
“Winston. My name is Winston.” He’s not smiling anymore. “Didn’t you say you had a suit for me?”
He frowns. Checks his watch. “We won’t have time to go through that right now.” Sighs. “Get her something to wear temporarily, will you?” He’s talking to Kenji. Kenji who is still staring at me.
“I want to see Adam.”
“Adam isn’t ready to see you yet.” Blondie Winston tucks his pen into a pocket. “We’ll let you know when he’s ready.”
“How am I supposed to trust any of you if you won’t even let me see him? If you won’t let me see James? I don’t even have my basic things. I want to get out of this bed and I need something to wear.”
“Go fetch, Moto.” Winston is readjusting his watch.
“I’m not your dog, Blondie,” Kenji snaps. “And I told you not to call me Moto.”
Winston pinches the bridge of his nose. “No problem. I’ll also tell Castle it’s your fault she’s not meeting with him right now.”
Kenji mutters something obscene under his breath. Stalks off. Almost slams the door.
A few seconds pass in a strained sort of silence.
I take a deep breath. “So what’s moto mean?”
Winston rolls his eyes. “Nothing. It’s just a nickname— his last name is Kishimoto. He gets mad when we chop it in half. Gets sensitive about it.”
“Well why do you chop it in half?”
He snorts. “Because it’s hard as hell to pronounce.”
“How is that an