I’m in too deep with this man and I don’t even know where we’re going or who he really is. I’m afraid that if I really do give in, he’ll end up turning into someone I never could have pictured and destroying me completely.
I spend the rest of the day confused. He comes back for lunch, and I give him the same silent treatment. I can feel his hesitation and confusion, but he doesn’t push me. He takes the empty tray and leaves me alone.
I feel guilty, but I don’t know what I want from him. Maybe it’s not fair to keep this going if I don’t want anything to do with him. Or then again, what happens if I decide that I don’t want this anymore? If I decide that I’m not going to bow anymore?
He keeps saying that everything is up to me, and so far that’s been more or less true. He’s pushed me just a little bit, but in the end it has been my choice to bow or to touch him. And when he comes to me, he doesn’t force anything. So far, he’s treated me with some kind of respect that I’ve been missing from everyone else since this all began.
There’s only one way to find out. So far, our little games happen at night, and I have to assume that tonight will be no different. He left me alone during the day, but I don’t think he’s going to let me get away with ignoring him the next time he comes.
That’s okay. I’m going to be prepared. I have to find out if he really means what he says, or if it’s just all some game that he’s playing with my mind. Maybe he really is trying to break me, and I have no clue. There’s one way to find out.
20
Logan
I can tell something’s off right away. It’s pretty obvious, and I can’t help but wonder if last night caused some of it.
There are sidelong glances in the mess hall and whispers in the corridors. I know something is up, but I can’t tell what it is. When I try to approach Anton about it, he pretends to be too busy, and asks if he can meet about it later.
That’s a bad fucking sign. Up until today, Anton has gone out of his way to try and get close to me, and so far I’ve been pushing him back, but he’s been persistent.
Now, things feel strange. Maybe it’s just me. Riley is also acting strange, but I can’t really blame her for that. I gave her a taste of freedom and then I tore it away. She’s probably pretty angry with me, or at least she’s upset about it.
I can’t let Riley worry me too much right now, though. The strangeness at this compound is the immediate danger.
After I drop off Riley’s lunch, I head out toward the guard gate at the front of the wall. There’s a guy I know, one of the younger men from the surrounding villages. He’s a nice kid named Miguel and we’ve played cards a few times since I came to this place. He’s one of the few guys I’ve really socialized with and one of the few that I hope doesn’t get killed in the coming raid.
Miguel is leaning against the wall smoking a cigarette, his rifle slung over his shoulder. He’s supposed to be on guard duty, but I can tell he’s too busy looking at the magazine in his hands to do any real guarding.
“Miguel,” I say as I approach. He looks up and drops the magazine then quickly bends over and picks it up.
“Logan,” he says. “You surprised me.”
“Sorry about it.” I smile and offer him another cigarette from a pack I carry around. To these guys, cigarettes are currency. He accepts it and puts it into his pocket, still smoking the one in his mouth.
“How are things, my friend?” I ask him.
He glances around and looks nervous. “Fine, fine,” he says. “Busy, you know. On duty.”
“Sure. You look really busy.” I grin at him so he knows I’m joking.
“What you tryin’ to say?” he asks, eyeing me aggressively. “I’m not doin’ my job?”
I blink, a little surprised. I’ve never seen any aggression from Miguel before. He’s one of the friendliest, nicest guys in this whole fucking hellhole, and I’ve never even seen him so much as say a word to one of the girls. This aggression shouldn’t surprise me, considering his job, but it does anyway.
“I’m not saying anything,” I reply, staring him down. “I just came out to give you a cigarette and to say hello.”
He frowns and for a second, I see the normal Miguel, just for a second through all the machismo and the posturing, but then that disappears. “Go now,” he says. “I’m busy. I have to be on duty.”
I watch him as he turns back toward the gate, suddenly standing straighter, eyes out on the road. I think about asking him what’s going on anyway and offering him a bribe, but I decide not to press.