Sea of Stars(92)

 “Umm . . . blak,” I say, holding up the meal from hell.

 “Jax thought it’d be a good idea if we had these—just in case it becomes necessary to leave Rafe.”

 “Do you think that could happen?”

 He doesn’t want to answer me, but he does anyway. “Yes.”

 “Why?”

 “Because at the moment, we’re outlaws.”

 “We’re Bonnie and Clyde?”

 “We’re who?”

 “Never mind.”

 I eat a few of the treats. Trey nudges the protein bar toward me. I ignore him. He sighs. “You know you have to eat it.”

 I give him a puzzled look. “Do I know that?” I look upward, searching my mind. “Hmm . . . no, I don’t think that I do know that.” I tap my chin with my index finger, and then shake my head. “Nope. That’s not something I know.”

 He grins and leans forward, reaching out and grabbing me. He starts to tickle me mercilessly. “Trey!” I giggle before laughing hysterically. When he doesn’t let up, I have to gasp in deep breaths between peals of laughter. “Trey!” I laugh. “Trey!” I say as sternly as I can. “You . . . have . . . to . . . stop!”

 “Do I?” he asks while he continues to tickle me before looking upward, searching his mind. “Do I really have to stop tickling you?” His evil grin is turned on me when he looks down again. “Nope. That’s not something I have to do.”

 “Okay!” I acquiesce.

 He smiles, leans forward, and kisses my temple. “Thank you.”

 I wipe tears from my eyes, before I narrow them at him. “You shouldn’t do that! I have to pee as it is.” I take the gross protein bar from him and lie down, looking up at the blanket covering the trench.

 Trey’s expression is immediately contrite. “I can take you up. It’ll be all right.”

 “No. I can wait,” I assure him.

 I take a bite of the protein bar and just about gag. Ugh, cat poop, I think.

 As I chew, Trey studies me. He frowns, resting with his forearm on the ground propping him up. “You said some things,” he says cryptically, in a very un-Trey-like way.

 I finish chewing and swallow. “I say lots of things. Anything in particular you’re referring to?” I smile at him.

 “Who’s Astrid?” he asks.

 “What? How do you—” I feel the blood drain from my cheeks.

 Trey hurriedly explains, “It’s something you kept saying over and over—when you were being interrogated. You kept asking, “Where’s Astrid? Where did Astrid go? I have to find Astrid.”

 My chest is in agony. I sit up and pull on my blouse over my head and see him frown at me, as if I’m taking away his toys. “You don’t have to get dressed, yet,” he says.

 “I have to—to—I have to—”

 Hurriedly, I dress beneath the blanket, pulling on the black legging pants from yesterday. I get to my feet and go to a shell-coated wall. Jumping up, I try to grasp the lip of the trench so that I can pull myself out and escape.

 “Who’s Astrid, Kricket?” Trey probes, disturbed by my behavior.

 I turn around and face him, covering his mouth with my hand. “Shh—don’t ever say that name to me again,” I hiss with a sick kind of desperation.

 He pulls my hand from his lips. “Why?” he counters, not letting it go.

 I turn away from him, jumping up again so I can get away. “Help me get out—please,” I beg him, still facing the wall, unable to look at him.

 Without saying another word, he pulls the cord attached to the camouflage blanket. It slides away, revealing the faint twilight. Trey hoists himself out of the trench, but he doesn’t pull me out right away. Instead, he moves away quietly to scout the area. I pace the trench, walking in circles on the mats.

 “It’s clear,” Trey says, reaching his hand down to me. He grasps my wrist, pulling me out of the hole. Refusing to look him in the eyes, I snatch my hand away from his, moving away to the trees where I’d been the night before.

 After I take care of my most basic needs, I don’t return to the camp right away. Instead, I walk alone along the division between the high grass and the tree line, holding out my hand so that the tall grass slips over my palm. Why am I still looking for Astrid, after all this time? Maybe it means nothing, just a reaction to a terrifying situation. But the loss is there. I have that ache in my chest again for something that doesn’t exist. I keep holding on to nothing as tightly as I can . . .