I'm so ready to take this fork and drive it deep into Lusso's eye socket. If I didn't admire his eye color so much, I would have 30 minutes ago.
Today I'm forced to attend community breakfast for the first time. So far, it's sucked. When I arrived, I wasn't allowed to sit next to Cidney because of pre-assigned seating. I was instead forced between Neil and another man I haven't yet had the pleasure of meeting. Lusso sat just diagonal of me, so I've spent my morning fantasizing different ways I could stab him with utensils.
The conversation is mainly spoken in Italian, which means I'm bored and unoccupied beside throwing glances to Cidney sitting next to Rixon.
A cell phone rings out, and Lusso holds up a finger to quiet conversation before answering. After a few seconds, he ends the call and stands.
"You," he jabs a finger in my direction, "With me. Let's go," he nods towards the door.
A brief flight of rebellion wisps through me, but its quickly squandered by a heavy gaze stalking me. Mr. King is perched at the head of the table, a malicious vulture waiting for my flounder so he can pick me apart. Just seeing him alone is enough to make me cower, but the glint of sadism now shimmering in his elderly features makes me fear for my life.
I skitter out the door behind Lusso, picking the lesser of the two evils. When we are entirely out of sight from the dining hall, he settles his warm hand on my lower back. I jump at first, flinching away from any contact. But as the warmth from his large hand spreads though me and guides my tired body, I find an foreign sense of comfort in it.
I don't know where I'm being escorted to, or my purpose in said place, but right now I don't have to think about that. All I have to think about is the hand guiding me, and forcing my short legs to keep up.
A sign passes overhead.
Medical Wing
Oh. So that's what this is about.
"Annabella, today you'll be seeing your first patient. He's in very poor condition, but I trust your intelligent enough to deal with it. If not, well, his blood is on your hands," he shrugs, thrusting the responsibility of someone's life onto me. It's a weight I'm not prepared to carry.
We step into a white, sterile room, fluorescing lights beaming above. There's a clear medical set up, tools and machines surrounding the bed in the center. A boy with bleach white hair lays there, crimson blood seeping around his side. The seep is slow, a good side, but the amount of crusted, dry blood tells me he's been losing blood for a good while.
Coming to his side I note his shallow breaths, and the sickly pale hue of his skin. Lusso stands behind me, quietly watching my efforts to assess this poor boy. I tamper down my own panic for the time being, knowing this boy needs me right now.
A piece together a plan, how I'll define the injury and treat his current condition. I whip around to Lusso, "What blood types do you have on hand?"
"Um. None?" He looks unsure, like he couldn't think of a single reason I may need something like that.
I eternally face palmed. This is going to be a challenge.
*****
After four hours of consecutive work on my patient, which I learned is named Jacob, I went to retrieve medications for his pain and recovery. It was an uphill battle, but I think so far I'm winning. Much of the healing is out of my hands, but I'm confident that I did all I can.
I left Lusso in the room, not wanting to be shadowed. He had insisted on staying and observing me this whole afternoon. My eyes wander over vials of pills, and I consider my earlier plan-- making myself a danger instead of an asset. An over abundance of blood thinner would be fatal to Jacob right now, and I could prove I'm a danger instead of an asset. Then they will have no purpose for me here, and I may have a shot at going home. I glare down at the bottle in my hand, the colorless pills staring back at me.
I'm lost completely to my hollow thoughts when a hand covers mine and the bottle. Lusso is looking down at me, concern shining in his bottomless dark eyes. "You don't want to do this," he says quietly, understanding well what my intentions were.
I'm so stunned I forget to deny what I'm doing. I just look down and shake my head, trying to convince myself I could really kill a crippled person. If they're my enemy its okay, right?
But I know myself, and I know I could never go through with it. I let the bottle fall from my hand to his, and my hand feels cold without his over it. He sets it back on the shelf, and looks at me in silence.
I hang my head in shame of what I almost did, not able to bare the thought of how quickly I've become a monster in this place. I sit on a nearby table, a space used to divvy out drugs. Lusso settles next to me, and I hate that it makes me feel better. I shouldn't want him anywhere near me. But I do.
"Your not a killer, Bella," Lusso's smooth voice comforts. I want to agree, but I'm not so sure I know myself anymore. I'm even to emotionally exhausted to fight him calling me Bella.
"You don't know me," I whisper, eyes glassing over with tears.
"I know you better than you might thing," he smiles, then tilts his head to watch me from the corner of his eye. "I know your not doing well with this, and I very much wish I could do something to help you out."
I could only shake my head, to sad and at peace and confused to say anything intelligent.
We sat in silence for some time, had it been minutes or hours I have no idea. Eventually Lusso slips off the edge of the table and offers me a hand. I take it, then stand on my wobbling legs.
"Let's grab the right medicine now, yeah?" he coaxes. I nod and head to the shelves grabbing three different bottles of drugs.
Lusso's behavior is so different today. He's kind and caring, gentle even. Hell, he walked in on me contemplating murdering one of his men and didn't show a shred of anger. I'm so desperately drawn to this side of him, grasping for it like a secret I was destined to find.
Like it was made just for me.
I'm safe with him, with this side of him.
But when we step into the hallway, his rigid stance returns, and his face is cold again. A cold stab pierces my heart. I miss the person he left in that room.
The false façade of safety and warmth is gone, leaving me alone all over again.