The Collective

Chapter Two

I bolted upright, shoulders heaving. I wasn't alone. Someone's gaze bored into the side of my head.

Ethan didn't move from his chair.

I was 90% sure he never slept. This wasn't the first time he sat there, staring at me, until I woke up. I hated it, and he knew it. I pulled the blankets over my head. They may have been red, but these were the most comfortable sheets I'd ever been in.

"How's your arm?"

"Better. I'm sorry I woke you."

I laughed. "No, you're not."

He grinned. "You hungry? Max made... something. He said it was all organic, free-range, and approved by Jones and Grayson."

I sat up, pulling my knees to my chest. "What does that even mean?"

"I don't know."

I took him in. For once in a long time, I felt at home. I hated that it was with him and I hated that it was like this, but that didn't change the fact that I felt more at peace than I had in months.

His smile melted away. He leaned back, failing to appear nonchalant. "So... are you okay?"

"Breakfast first." I fled to the bathroom. Whatever semblance of peace I'd had evaporated. I could make it through this as long as we didn't talk. If we started talking, I'd have to tell him that he lied to me for months. He let me fall in love with a lie, and I couldn't abide by that, and we didn't have time for the fallout.

"Alex... Annie?" Ethan knocked on the bathroom door. "We're gonna have to talk about this at some point."

"Breakfast," I shouted, rushing past him. I didn't want to talk. 14 months and not a word from him. Now he wanted to talk? Absolutely not. There would be no talking, not until I had at least a cup of tea. And, maybe some toast, and some sausage, and pancakes, and orange juice...

Max raised his spatula in greeting. He flipped a crêpe on a plate, and layered chocolate sauce and powdered sugar on it. He finished it off with a flourish of whipped cream. He set it on the counter, next to bowls of strawberries and pineapples, and a couple things I'd never seen before.

I took my plate to the table, sliding in next to Ethan. "So, Max, who are Jones and Grayson?" I ignored the annoyance flickering across Ethan's face.

"A drug dealer and his arms dealing brother. Who woulda thought they had a sweet tooth?" He shook his head.

I cradled my tea, watching Max flit around the kitchen. He lived and died for the culinary arts. He stopped, staring out the kitchen window. He tensed. My glass shattered in my hands.

Ethan dropped, dragging me down next to him. "I'm sorry. Max?"

"Of all the indecent things... interrupting my breakfast. I've been up since five!" He pulled two huge guns out of the drawer. He sprayed the front of the house with bullets. The guns clicked. He dropped, reloading.

"Hey, look at me, go upstairs to the Red Room and push the button by the door. I'll come get you as soon as I can." Ethan pulled a gun out from a holster stuck to the bottom of the table.

I couldn't move. Max dove behind the bookshelf in the living room.

"Hey, stairs, room, button. Go!" Ethan nudged me towards the stairs.

I shook it off. I dove into the Red Room. I pushed the button by the light switch. A metal panel slid over the two windows. A piece of clear glass slid in place behind the door. The desk split in two, opening to reveal a computer. The living room and the kitchen took up most the screen.