Shatter Me Complete Collection (37 page)

I feel Adam tense beside me and decide to intervene. “Hey, can we talk about something else?”

Kenji grunts. Rolls his eyes. Shovels another spoonful of breakfast into his mouth.

I’m worried.

Now that I’m paying closer attention, I can see the weariness in Adam’s eyes, the heaviness in his brow, the stiff set of his shoulders. I can’t help but wonder what he’s going through. What he’s not telling me. I tug on Adam’s hand a little and he turns to me.

“You sure you’re okay?” I whisper. I feel like I keep asking him the same question over and over and over

His eyes immediately soften, looking tired but slightly amused. His hand releases mine under the table just to rest on my lap, just to slip down my thigh, and I almost lose control of my vocabulary before he leaves a light kiss in my hair. I swallow too hard, almost drop my fork on the floor. It takes me a moment to remember that he hasn’t actually answered my question. It’s not until he’s looked away, staring at his food, when he finally nods, says, “I’m okay.” But I’m not breathing and his hand is still tracing patterns on my leg.

“Ms. Ferrars? Mr. Kent?”

I sit up so fast I slam my knuckles under the table at the sound of Castle’s voice. There’s something about his presence that makes me feel like he’s my teacher, like I’ve been caught misbehaving in class. Adam, on the other hand, doesn’t seem remotely startled.

I cling to Adam’s fingers as I lift my head.

Castle is standing over our table and Kenji is leaving to deposit his bowl in the kitchen. He claps Castle on the back like they’re old friends and Castle flashes Kenji a warm smile as he passes.

“I’ll be right back,” Kenji shouts over his shoulder, twisting to flash us an overly enthusiastic thumbs-up. “Try not to get naked in front of everyone, okay? There are kids in here.”

I cringe and glance at Adam but he seems oddly focused on his food. He hasn’t said a word since Castle arrived.

I decide to answer for the both of us. Paste on a bright smile. “Good morning.”

Castle nods, touches the lapel of his blazer; his stature is strong and poised. He beams at me. “I just came to say hello and to check in. I’m so happy to see that you’re expanding your circle of friends, Ms. Ferrars.”

“Oh. Thank you. But I can’t take credit for the idea,” I point out. “You’re the one who told me to sit with Kenji.”

Castle’s smile is a little too tight. “Yes. Well,” he says, “I’m happy to see that you took my advice.”

I nod at my food. Rub absently at my forehead. Adam looks like he’s not even breathing. I’m about to say something when Castle cuts me off. “So, Mr. Kent,” he says. “Did Ms. Ferrars tell you she’ll be training with Kenji now? I’m hoping it will help her progress.”

Adam doesn’t answer.

Castle soldiers on. “I actually thought it might be interesting for her to work with you, too. As long as I’m there to supervise.”

Adam’s eyes snap up to attention. Alarmed. “What are you talking about?”

“Well—” Castle pauses. I watch his gaze shift between the two of us. “I thought it would be interesting to run some tests on you and her. Together.”

Adam stands up so quickly he almost bangs his knee into the table. “Absolutely not.”

“Mr. Kent—,” Castle starts.

“There’s no chance in
hell
—”

“It’s her choice to make—”

“I don’t want to discuss this here—”

I jump to my feet. Adam looks ready to set something on fire. His fists are clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed into a tight glare; his forehead is taut, his entire frame shaking with energy and anxiety.

“What is going on?” I demand.

Castle shakes his head. He’s not addressing me when he speaks. “I only want to see what happens when she touches you. That’s it.”

“Are you
insane
—”

“This is for
her
,” Castle continues, his voice careful, extra calm. “It has nothing to do with your progress—”

“What progress?” I cut in.

“We’re just trying to help her figure out how to affect nonliving organisms,” Castle is saying. “Animals and humans we’ve figured out—we know one touch is sufficient. Plants don’t seem to factor into her abilities at all. But everything else? It’s … different. She doesn’t know how to handle that part yet, and I want to help her. That’s all we’re doing,” he says. “Helping Ms. Ferrars.”

Adam takes a step closer to me. “If you’re helping her figure out how to destroy nonliving things, why do you need me?”

For a second Castle actually looks defeated. “I don’t really know,” he says. “The unique nature of your relationship—it’s quite fascinating. Especially with everything we’ve learned so far, it’s—”

“What have you learned?” I jump in again.

“—entirely possible,” Castle is still saying, “that everything is connected in a way we don’t yet understand.”

Adam looks unconvinced. His lips are pressed into a thin line. He doesn’t look like he wants to answer.

Castle turns to me. Tries to sound excited. “What do you think? Are you interested?”

“Interested?” I look at Castle. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about. And I want to know why no one is answering my questions. What have you discovered about Adam?” I ask. “What’s wrong? Is something wrong?” Adam is breathing extra hard and trying not to show it; his hands keep clenching and unclenching. “Someone, please, tell me what’s going on.”

Castle frowns.

He’s studying me, confused, his eyebrows pulled together. “Mr. Kent,” he says, still looking at me. “Am I to understand that you have not yet shared our discoveries with Ms. Ferrars?”

“What discoveries?” My heart is racing hard now, so hard it’s beginning to hurt.

“Mr. Kent—”

“That’s none of your business,” Adam snaps.

“She should
know
—”

“We don’t know anything yet!”

“We know enough.”

“Bullshit. We’re not done yet—”

“The only thing left is to test the two of you together—”

Adam steps directly in front of Castle, grabbing his breakfast tray with a little too much strength. “Maybe,” he says very, very carefully, “some other time.”

He turns to leave.

I touch his arm.

He stops. Drops his tray, pivots in my direction. There’s less than half an inch between us and I almost forget we’re standing in a crowded room. His breath is hot and his breathing shallow and the heat from his body is melting my blood only to splash it across my cheeks.

Panic is doing backflips in my bones.

“Everything is fine,” he says. “Everything is going to be fine. I promise.”

“But—”

“I promise,” he says again, grabbing my hand. “I swear. I’m going to fix this—”

“Fix this?” I think I’m dreaming. I think I’m dying. “Fix what?” Something is breaking in my brain and something is happening without my permission and I’m lost, I’m so lost, I’m so much everything confused and I’m drowning in confusion. “Adam, I don’t underst—”

“I mean, really though?” Kenji is making his way back to our group. “You’re going to do that here? In front of everyone? Because these tables aren’t as comfortable as they look—”

Adam pulls back and slams into Kenji’s shoulder on his way out.

“
Don’t.”

Is all I hear him say before he disappears.

Kenji lets out a low whistle.

Castle is calling Adam’s name, asking him to slow down, to speak to him, to discuss things in a rational manner. Adam never looks back.

“I told you he was moody,” Kenji mutters.

“He’s not moody,” I hear myself say, but the words feel distant, disconnected from my lips. I feel numb, like my arms have been hollowed out.

Where did I leave my voice I can’t find my voice I can’t find my

“So! You and me, huh?” Kenji claps his hands together. “Ready to get your ass kicked?”

“Kenji.”

“Yeah?”

“I want you to take me to wherever they went.”

Kenji is looking at me like I’ve just asked him to kick himself in the face. “Uh, yeah—how about a warm
hell no
to that request? Does that work for you? Because it works for me.”

“I need to know what’s going on.” I turn to him, desperate, feeling stupid. “You know, don’t you? You know what’s wrong—”

“Of course I know.” He crosses his arms. Levels a look at me. “I
live
with that poor bastard and I practically run this place. I know everything.”

“So why won’t you tell me? Kenji,
please
—”

“Yeah, um, I’m going to pass on that, but you know what I will do? I
will
help you to remove yourself the hell out of this dining hall where everyone is listening to
everything we say
.” This last bit he says extra loudly, looking around at the room, shaking his head. “Get back to your breakfasts, people. Nothing to see here.”

It’s only then that I realize what a spectacle we’ve made. Every eye in the room is blinking at me. I attempt a weak smile and a twitchy wave before allowing Kenji to shuffle me out of the room.

“No need to wave at the people, princess. It’s not a coronation ceremony.” He pulls me into one of the many long, dimly lit corridors.

“Tell me what’s happening.” I have to blink several times before my eyes adjust to the lighting. “This isn’t fair—everyone knows what’s going on except for me.”

He shrugs, leans one shoulder against the wall. “It’s not my place to tell. I mean, I like to mess with the guy, but I’m not an asshole. He asked me not to say anything. So I’m not going to say anything.”

“But—I mean—is he okay? Can you at least tell me if he’s okay?”

Kenji runs a hand over his eyes; exhales, annoyed. Shoots me a look. Says, “All right, like, have you ever seen a train wreck?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer. “I saw one when I was a kid. It was one of those big, crazy trains with a billion cars all hitched up together, totally derailed, half exploded. Shit was on fire and everyone was screaming and you just
know
people are either dead or they’re about to die and you really don’t want to watch but you just can’t look away, you know?” He nods. Bites the inside of his cheek. “This is kind of like that. Your boy is a freaking train wreck.”

I can’t feel my legs.

“I mean, I don’t know,” Kenji goes on. “Personally? I think he’s overreacting. Worse things have happened, right? Hell, aren’t we up to our earlobes in crazier shit? But no, Mr. Adam Kent doesn’t seem to know that. I don’t even think he sleeps anymore. And you know what,” he adds, leaning in, “I think he’s starting to freak James out a little, and to be honest it’s starting to piss me off because that kid is way too nice and way too cool to have to deal with Adam’s drama—”

But I’m not listening anymore.

I’m envisioning the worst possible scenarios, the worst possible outcomes. Horrible, terrifying things that all end with Adam dying in some miserable way. He must be sick, or he must have some kind of terrible affliction, or something that causes him to do things he can’t control or oh, God,
no

“You have to tell me.”

I don’t recognize my own voice. Kenji is looking at me, shocked, wide-eyed, genuine fear written across his features and it’s only then that I realize I’ve pinned him against the wall. My 10 fingers are curled into his shirt, fistfuls of fabric clenched in each hand, and I can only imagine what I must look like to him right now.

The scariest part is that I don’t even care.

“You’re going to tell me
something
, Kenji. You have to. I need to know.”

“You, uh”—he licks his lips, looks around, laughs a nervous laugh—“you want to let go of me, maybe?”

“Will you help me?”

He scratches behind his hear. Cringes a little. “No?”

I slam him harder into the wall, recognize a rush of some wild kind of adrenaline burning in my veins. It’s strange, but I feel as though I could rip through the ground with my bare hands.

It seems like it would be easy. So easy.

“Okay—all right—god
damn
.” Kenji is holding his arms up, breathing a little fast. “Just—how about you let me go, and I’ll, uh, I’ll take you to the research labs.”

“The research labs.”

“Yeah, that’s where they do the testing. It’s where we do all of our testing.”

“You promise you’ll take me if I let go?”

“Are you going to bash my brain into the wall if I don’t?”

“Probably,” I lie.

“Then yeah. I’ll take you.
Damn
.”

I drop him and stumble backward; make an effort to pull myself together. I feel a little embarrassed now that I’ve let go of him. Some part of me feels like I must’ve overreacted.

“I’m sorry about that,” I tell him. “But thank you. I appreciate your help.” I try to lift my chin with some dignity.

Kenji snorts. He’s looking at me like he has no idea who I am, like he’s not sure if he should laugh or applaud or run like hell in the opposite direction. He rubs the back of his neck, eyes intent on my face. He won’t stop staring.

“What?” I ask.

“How much do you weigh?”

“Wow. Is that how you talk to every girl you meet? That explains so much.”

“I’m about one hundred seventy-five pounds,” he says. “Of muscle.”

I stare at him. “Would you like an award?”

“Well, well, well,” he says, cocking his head, the barest hint of a smile flickering across his face. “Look who’s the smart-ass now.”

“I think you’re rubbing off on me,” I say.

But he’s not smiling anymore.

“Listen,” he says. “I’m not trying to flatter myself by pointing this out, but I could toss you across the room with my pinkie finger. You weigh, like, less than nothing. I’m almost twice your body mass.” He pauses. “So how the hell did you pin me against the wall?”

“What?” I frown. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about
you
”—he points at me—“pinning
me
”—he points at himself—“against the wall.” He points at the wall.

“You mean you
actually
couldn’t move?” I blink. “I thought you were just afraid of touching me.”

“No,” he says. “I legit could not move. I could hardly breathe.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Have you ever done that before?”