Even Better (Stripped 2.50)

He grins, looking boyish despite the fact that he’s obviously armed and dangerous. “If you eat your vegetables.”

I glance at the tray he’s holding. and see a feast. All that is meant for one person? I’ve never even seen a plate that large, and it’s piled high with food. There’s a steak with the juices still sizzling and mashed potatoes, the butter almost completely melted, and emerald-green broccoli. I haven’t eaten since dinner in the Great Hall last night, and my stomach grumbles loudly.

He sets down the tray. “Come on, eat. You look like you’re about to fall over.”

He’s right, so I round the desk and head back for the plain wooden chair. No way I’m sitting in the big leather swivel chair. I’d probably get struck by lightning or something.

Except I can’t exactly sit down yet. “Are you…going to stay and watch?”

He gets a funny look on his face, almost embarrassed. “Just until you finish. Then I’ll take the tray back upstairs.”

I cock my head. I’m still curious about him, but he sets me at ease. Completely unlike Ivan. “Why?”

He shrugs. “I don’t question orders.”

Unease twists my empty stomach. That’s how it was in Harmony Hills, even if we called them counsels instead of orders. And he was ordered to watch me eat. To make sure I did. “What’s your name?”

“It’s Luca. And don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you.” His brown eyes soften. “Or touch you.”

I believe him, and that is the only reason I can sit down and take a bite. And oh, that bite. The juices are still warm on my tongue, the steak more tender and wonderful than anything I’ve ever tasted. I catch Luca looking at me—looking at my lips—and my eyes widen.

His cheeks tinge red, and he turns away. “Where did you come from anyway?” he asks quietly.

“Far away.” Maybe not that far in miles. Sixty dollars for bus tickets didn’t last long. But I might as well be on the other side of the world for how different all this looks—and how lonely I feel. “Your boss,” I say softly.

“What about him?” Reserved. Wary.

Afraid?

“He’s kind of…” I stammer, because I barely have the words for what I need to ask. “Can I trust him?”

That earns me a soft laugh. “Trust? I’m not sure anyone can know him, much less trust him. But if you stay in Tanglewood, you’ll hear stories.”

“What kind of stories?”

“The kind that get told around campfires.”

“Except he’s real.”

The corner of Luca’s mouth turns up. “The money that he puts in my account is real enough.”

I can do anything I want with you.

The things he would do to me would be real enough too.

* * *

The first time I ever rode in a car, I was eight years old.

A woman with kind eyes came and took me away. Mama had a strange look on her face, like she was trying to be brave, so I tried to be brave too. Even though the building scared me. And the people scared me.

They put me in a room with no windows. A camera was set up in the corner, watching me. I looked anywhere but at the shiny black lens. A doll slouched against the bench on the floor. Her hair was red. Building blocks climbed each other in the corner, every color of the rainbow. Who could play at a time like this, away from their family? But my heart beat a little faster, just thinking about it. These were toys that hadn’t been made in Harmony Hills, that hadn’t been sanctioned by our leader. I knew how wrong it was, and that made me want to do it more. I fought with myself for what felt like hours until the woman with kind eyes came back in. She had another

person with her, a man. He smiled at me but stood silently in the corner while the woman asked questions.

How do you like living in Harmony Hills?

Who watches you?