Oculus (Oculus #1) (33 page)

The moment I leave my unit, I hear my own voice repeating on a loop over the compound speakers and it serves to dampen my mood further. The last person I feel like seeing at the moment is Hattie and yet here she is making a beeline for me. All I want to do is go see how my dad is doing today. Despite what the doctors have said, I have hope. As ignorant as it may seem to others, I hold out hope that he may recover from this.

Maybe. Just maybe
.

“Iris, can we talk for a sec?”

“Hattie. I really can’t. I’m going to check on my dad then I have a few things I need to get done.”

“Okay, I’ll take you to see him if you want.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Why are you treating me like this?” The accusatory tone in her voice is grating on my already frayed nerves.

“Treating
you
like this? Where the hell have you been for
weeks
on end?” I quicken my pace, tapping along toward the rails hoping that the familiar vibration of a rail car making its way down the track will begin tingling my feet sooner rather than later.

“Iris, you can’t stay mad at me forever.”

“To be angry, I’d have to give a shit. I really don’t have the time or patience to deal with you right now.”

“Iris!” She whines petulantly, causing me to whirl around facing her squarely. If it wouldn’t cause problems for me, I’d slap her so hard she’d be forced to shut her mouth for once.

Just stop! Leave!

I watch as her gaping mouth slowly shuts and she just stares at me like a helpless puppy then turns and walks back towards our row of units. It’s the one time in Hattie’s life she’s actually done what someone else wanted her to do. I marvel at the moment. Perhaps my expression gave away what I had been thinking.

It’s an odd feeling seeing anything, but it’s particularly odd and unsettling seeing the man who raised me so vulnerable in a hospital bed. From behind the tinted lenses of my glasses, I take in the sight of him. Every silver strand, every deep wrinkle a small detail that make up the man I call dad.

He’s my dad and I love him no matter how I came to be in his life. I’m angry that there is still so much I don’t know. I’m angry that I feel robbed of so much because I have spent my life as the blind girl. I’d be lying to myself if I said that I hold no grudges because I do. But my grudges have taken a back seat to the circumstances around me. I want nothing more than to make him better. I want nothing more than to believe that there is something that can be done to help him recover from what he’s been through. I want to believe, not just for him, but me as well that maybe I can make him better, maybe I can do something, anything to fix things. He is, after all, stuck in this bed because of me, because of my stupidity and stubbornness.

He warned me, pleaded with me, and even demanded that I not seek to work with Ingram. He insisted that I wasn’t cut out for the life that I’ve been so determined to create for myself.

I should have listened
.

“I’m so sorry, dad,” I whisper, too ashamed to speak any louder. “I don’t know everything and I don’t know where we go from here, but I promise that I’ll make things better. I’ll make it better.” Tears slide down my cheeks in a steady stream and I allow myself this moment to feel sorry my father, sorry for myself, sorry for Sic, sorry for this world we live in, sorry that I feel inept to fix any of it.

“I wish I knew if you could hear me. I hope you can. I hope you know that I’m right here.” The tears keep coming and despite my pleas, his expressionless face remains unresponsive, his body limp.

Do something. Squeeze my hand.

I get to my feet beside his bed and lean forward, placing a kiss on his forehead. My attention goes to his pendant around my neck. It’s resting against his neck with me leaning forward this way and I realize how ironic it is that he’s in this bed, lost to me and the rest of this world and it had nothing to do with the serum in this pendant.

No trinket stole him away from me. Ingram, Security, Fenra, this entire damned society stole him from me and though the method is different, the result is exactly the same. The man he was is gone. I suppose the only positive thing about his condition is his inability to be questioned. Ever. And I guess he won’t have to see me risk everything for a man that is a stranger, but isn’t—a man who should be off limits to me, but is exactly where I began and where I was meant to end—a man who almost certainly will be the demise of me. None of that changes my bottom line though. Sicarius is an assassin, he’s dangerous, he’s the only man I’ve ever wanted, and someone, Chief Williams, has taken him from me. She won’t keep him. Not all of him.

My dad’s fingers twitch in mine, and I check his face for signs that maybe he’s coming back to me, but it’s pointless. Muscle spasms are no indication that he’s in there, ready to come back, or that he even knows that I’m here. His body is here. His mind isn’t.

“I love you, dad.” I deposit one more kiss on his cheek and straighten myself to my full height, sniffling and trying my best to compose myself.

With one glance back at my dad, I adjust my sunglasses and resolutely walk toward my destiny and my demise.

Packing a bag, in theory, should be an easy task. It should be a matter of choosing which items are most essential, stowing them in a bag, and walking out the door.

It isn’t that simple. Not for me. The only bags I’ve ever packed have been for the purpose of fun sleepovers at Hattie’s place.

This is different. My destination is different. My purpose is different.
I’m different
.

It has taken me longer than I would have liked, but I take one more walk through our unit and decide that I’ve taken the essentials—a mix of useful tools, sentimental odds and ends, dried fruit and meat from my last trip to Procurement Day. Though the bookmark is now a useless little item, I slip it into my bag along with the box of treasures my father left for me in the floorboards of his closet.

I’m not entirely sure what I’ll need once I’m gone, but I’ve decided to err on the side of caution and take anything I think could prove to be helpful.

“One packed bag for the woman who is about to sign her own death warrant, coming up!” I mutter sarcastically as I drop my things by the back door of our unit.

I’m coming, Sic
.

Walking into the Security building isn’t easy for me. Memories of what happened here are fresh and will be for the foreseeable future as far as I can tell. Determination is the only thing that bolsters my courage.

I breeze down the main corridor, tapping my stick as I go, reminding myself to not stare at things or people that I haven’t seen before. My glasses only disguise me so much and the last thing I need is someone realizing that the resident blind girl has been miraculously healed.

One small blessing is that Chief Williams’ office isn’t in Ingram’s old lair. Instead of taking over his space, she had two smaller offices converted into one big one all for her. The space isn’t lavish as you might expect from a powerful woman. It’s cold, uninviting, utilitarian, furnished only with whites grays and blacks—the Fenra colors.

“Come in, Iris,” Chief Williams calls from inside her cave the moment I step within view. “You’re early.”

“I don’t have anywhere else to be. Thought I’d read the new script.”

“I admire your initiative, Iris. You’ve been most useful. The new citizen poll numbers were on my desk this morning. Morale is up twenty-two percent. You’ve been most effective.”

“Thank you.” I smile brightly to mask the bile creeping up my throat. I’m guilty by association. I’m no better than the rest of the Corp snakes. I’ve been working for Chief Williams, doing her bidding and it has left me with a sour stomach and a taste for revenge… and redemption.

“Please have a seat. I’ll have Marion bring the new script in.”

I nod and tap my way over to the gray and white chair in front of the Chief’s desk as she barks an order into the scanner at her desk.

“My father is the same. I went to see him earlier today,” I offer, looking straight ahead.

“Yes, I know.” She says it like she’s noting something obvious.

“You know that he’s the same?”

“Yes, Iris. And that you went to visit him, of course.”

“Do you know everything that happens here?” I give a subtle laugh hoping to appear amiable.

“Of course I do, dear.”

The way she does seem to see and know a lot makes me feel uneasy, transparent. Suddenly my plans seem like a very bad idea. Maybe it’s being in this building. Maybe it’s being in the company of what I know is a predator but my instinct to evade is growing.

I slip my sunglasses off and rub both the lenses with the hem of my shirt. Once I slip them back on, I look at the Chief who seems to be wearing a perplexed expression, leaving me feeling a tiny bit empowered.

“Why do you bother cleaning the lenses?” She asks, relaxing back in her seat with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Do you clean yours?”

“Yes.”

“So why do you clean
yours
?”

“So I can see better.”

“I clean mine so I can look better. I imagine walking around with dirty sunglasses looks stupid.”

“You’re clever, Iris. I’ll give you that much.”

I should be flattered by her comment, but it doesn’t feel like a compliment, it feels like a clear warning. It feels like I just landed on her radar—a place I’d rather not be.

“Chief Williams, come in.” An agent’s disembodied voice calls over the radio.

“This is Chief Williams.”

“Chief this is Agent Hurst, we executed the search you ordered. Found a hell of a cache at unit eighty-six. Contraband team is on the premises. Two employees in custody. One unaccounted for minor. Please advise.”

“I’ll be right there.”

“You’ll have to excuse me, Iris.”

“Sure. No problem. I can get the script from Marion myself. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yes. That’s likely when you’ll see
me
. I’ll see
you
before then, I’m sure.”

My forced laugh is the only response I can manage as her dark brown eyes cut to me before she strides out of her office, leaving me alone.

Being close to Sic is always so…
palpable
. His presence is tangible. I can feel him, sense him even when he isn’t in close proximity. When he is close by, our connection is so strong that sometimes I think others feel it. Like electricity in the air, you can’t see it, but you feel it in the way that the tiny hairs across your skin stand on end in silent salute to a force greater than themselves.

It’s torture knowing that he’s so near and I still have to pull off a miracle to get close enough to do what needs to be done—to do the only thing left to do.

“Ms. Tierney, I’m Agent Lenny Moore. Chief sent me to escort you home. Are you ready?”

If you need me to do it, I can. But you must decide now.

“Arbitrium,” I whisper almost involuntarily at the flood of memories that inundate my mind. “You’re the man who told my father to decide.” From behind my sunglasses I watch the tall figure stiffen in the doorway of Chief Williams’ office then rush at me in three big strides.

“Shut up!” he whispers loudly through gritted teeth.