SICK HEART by Huss, JA (non fiction books to read .TXT) 📕

going to know. She won’t be punished, if that’s what she’s afraid of. So why keep this charade up?

I pull back from the kiss and look into her eyes. They are dark in the moonlight, but still vaguely blue. Why? I ask.

And she is smart. Because she throws that sign right back at me. Why? Why me? Why don’t you talk?

It’s an easy explanation and I’m sure I could get her to understand if I put a little effort into it. Talking to her, here, in this place, would be cheating. This is just a rule I live by on the Rock. It gives me direction. It gives this place meaning and gives this training definition, and all my kids need that.

Just like I needed it.

Just like Anya, apparently, needs it too.

And sure, maybe I would’ve cheated if she talked. But she doesn’t, and I didn’t. And I won’t. Not now. I’ve made up my mind and once I make a decision about something, it’s done. I don’t have the luxury of second chances and regrets. My life is all about instincts. All about moving without thinking. All about predicting what my enemy will do before they do it. And then meeting them there, halfway, before they know what’s happening.

But this feels like an explanation Anya hasn’t earned. So I just turn over and say nothing.

A few seconds later I feel her fingertips on my back.

I look over my shoulder, scowling now, then sign, Leave me alone. I’m tired of her. I’m tired of this day and Udulf’s visit this morning is finally sinking in.

He’s up to something.

He won. Right? He got to keep controlling interest in his precious ship, he got my prize money. Why does he give a fuck about Anya Bokori? What made him get on that helicopter and fly out here after three days?

He’s never done that before. It’s been more years than I can count since he’s set foot on this rig. At least a dozen, but maybe even more.

And damn, I don’t normally allow myself to wish for things I don’t have while I’m on the Rock. It’s just pointless. But I’d give anything for a sat phone right now. Not that Maart or Rainer would know anything about what Udulf is doing, but I could set them on a mission to find out.

Anya pokes me again.

I sign, What? and make a scowling face so she knows I’m pissed.

Her hands make a gesture that is actually a word, but I’m pretty sure she’s not saying ‘pie.’ Still, her middle finger is slipping across her palm. And I can’t help myself, I sit up to try to figure it out.

Then she does the sign for moon again, pointing to it.

Calendar? I ask.

She throws her arms wide, frustrated. And I’m thinking, Yeah. Me too, babe. Me too.

Then I get it. How long?

She sighs and nods.

How long will we be here? I lie back and point to the moon, then hold up three fingers.

It’s not what she’s looking for. This is the number of days we’ve been here, not how many we have left. But that’s one of the rules too.

Never think about how much time you have left in Hell.

Only congratulate yourself for time served.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN - ANYA

 

 

I think about four things after he turns his back to me for the final time.

One. That kiss. Jesus. That kiss. I’m pretty sure he didn’t enjoy it the way I did, because I have a sneaking suspicion he was checking for my tongue again. And that means he’s probably irritated with me for the silence. But it was so unexpected and so—well, nice—that the feeling of his mouth on mine lingers long into the night.

Two. His name. There is something about the heart part, but I don’t know what it is. I drew in the air and that made some kind of sense to him, because he went into that anatomy explanation. But I’m not sure if he just thinks I’m too stupid to understand that was the sign for ‘heart,’ or if there was a much bigger, more involved explanation to it.

Three. He’s not very patient. I mean, he has signs of patience at times. But that comes and goes in bursts. He was patient for a while down on the mat. But once he felt I had the moves down, he went back to his own business. And even though he showed me some signs tonight, the role of teacher tired him out pretty quick.

Four. He’s frustrated that I’m not talking. Like I’m a lot of effort and he’s short on effort right now. Plus, I think that visit from Udulf means something bad. I’m not staying with Cort after we leave here, that was pretty clear. And I’m not saying this bothers him—the part about me, anyway. But something about that is bothering him.

So his frustration concerns me. Am I a liability?

I don’t want to be a liability. And he’s clearly not interested in anything sexual. I suspect that Sick Heart here isn’t into strangers. Maybe if his friends were here, he might think about another sexual encounter. But only because of them, not me.

My stomach grumbles. And this is no ordinary grumble. I’m in a serious calorie deficit right now. I know all about this. It might’ve been years since they used starvation as a punishment, but when I first came to Lazar’s estate, there was another girl there, several years older than me. She knew the ropes and taught me, much the same way I taught Bexxie when she first came to live with us. Her name was Diona and she was the one who showed me how to track the hunger pangs so I knew how much food I could go without. Not how much I needed to survive, but how much I could afford to give up. She was a rebellious girl who thrived in high-drama situations. So she was always looking for a way to beat Lazar