Page 45 of Enemy of the State

If she wants to live, she needs to stay stronger now than she ever has before, giving me and Jace a chance to get to the bottom of things on her behalf. After all, it’s almost January.

Time is slipping away like particles of sand through a sieve.

I hope, for both Lou and myself, that she takes my advice, turning me into her enemy.

It might be the only way we both survive this.

“We help her.”

“Let me get this straight. You think we have the wrong person and sheisn’ta terrorist?” Major Thompson asks, working through the, albeit limited, information I just laid out for him. His brow pinches as he paces the length of the small, shitty office space we’re gathered in.

“That’s correct, sir,” I state, twisting my mask between my hands clasped at my back.

“And what do you think, Marshall?” Major Thompsonquestions Jace, who’s standing next to me, his stance wide, mirroring my own. I asked him to join me in this meeting today since he knew almost everything I did at this point. But the thing wehaven’tdiscussed is whether Jace agrees with me entirely. He was skeptical at first, and while I got the impression that he had become firmly on her side by now, I can’t say for sure.

My breath becomes trapped in my lungs, the weight of my oxygen growing heavier, until he reveals, “I agree with him, sir.”

I resist the overwhelming urge to allow my shoulders to slump, my relief palpable. It’s as if Jace just pulled some bricks from the invisible backpack I’ve been carrying. There are plenty of bricks left, but the removal of one or two is enough for me to breathe easier.

“I see,” Thompson says, and I wonder if he does, in fact, see. “I need to run this up the chain of command. I’ll be in touch. In the meantime, sit tight and find out everything she knows,by whatever means necessary.” He stares me down as he makes this last statement, and I’m smart enough to read between the lines.

What Thompson doesn’t understand is that Lou won’t be telling me shit. If she hasn’t started talking at this point, why the fuck would she start now?

We spend the next half hour debriefing him on a few of the other prisoners, and he feeds us the orders to terminate Solomon, an international weapons dealer and complete menace housed in Block One.

Thompson dismisses us, taking Stuco’s body with him back to the mainland when he leaves on the chopper. We all went to the helipad to watch Stuco leave for the last time.

I tried to take responsibility for Stuco’s death, but Thompson waved me off, telling me that he should’ve known better than to engage with an inmate. I don’t agree, but there’s no point in arguing over who owns the fault. Especially considering that the blame lies squarely with Lou and she certainly won’t be apologetic.

Borman has been particularly moody since we got back—notthat I blame him—and Jace is forced to order him to chill the fuck out.

This is going to be a long week.

“Maybe we should get Lou to do this for us. I bet she wouldn’t have any problem with it. Shit, she’d probably be excited,” Jace mumbles from beside me. I grunt an affirmation as we pull on our masks before heading into the playpen to deal with Solomon.

While Louhi doesn’t seem to wrestle with cold-blooded murder, Jace and I do. It’s the least savory part of this job, yet a necessary evil, according to the government. Jace and I take turns with the eliminations so neither of us shoulder the burden alone, though that only goes so far. I’ve never had issues with killing people who are threats to me or those I love. If you come for me, I’ll come for you tenfold.

Nevertheless, the thing with the executions of the prisoners here is that it feels murky. Every inmate housed here, including Lou, are absolute fuckheads and have all done things that should guarantee them a death sentence. Things get gray when you develop relationships—however bizarre—with those fuckheads. Solomon is one of those cases. He’s been here for six years, and though I’m not particularly fond of him, he doesn’t disgust me like Peter or irritate the shit out of me like Carlos.

But we’ve wrung Solomon dry of any information he may have at this point, so I understand the orders.

It’s Jace’s turn, and I lean against the back wall as he explains to Solomon what’s going to happen, and the prisoner nods curtly. I’m dying to know what’s going through his mind as Jace injects him with the cocktail of potassium dioxide, midazolam, and vecuronium bromide. He doesn’t speak again but closes his eyes as the cadence ofhis breaths becomes slower, more ragged. Forcing myself to watch, as I do with every prisoner, his chest eventually ceases to move.

After helping Jace and Martinez take Solomon’s body to the freezer in the infirmary, I find myself stalking down Block One. Pausing at Soloman’s cell, I linger for a moment, thinking about the fact that the amount of blood on my hands is becoming so thick that I can no longer glimpse my skin. I’ve killed more men than an avatar in a fucking video game.

The sonorous boom of Spite’s “Kill or Be Killed” saturates the prison as my feet move of their own accord, transporting me farther down the corridor, and I find myself standing at the gate to Lou’s cell, salve in hand. The second I lay eyes on her gorgeous, grimy face, my somber mood lightens a skosh. Every time I’m near her, the ivory bars encasing my heart both tighten and loosen simultaneously, like being around her is a paradox. She’s a delicious poison that you know will hurt you in the end, but that possibility doesn’t stop you from desperately wanting to guzzle down the venom.

She lifts her head to look at me, a dazzling smirk blooming on her face, but I don’t miss the way she’s lying on her stomach, her knees bent and ankles crossed as she rests her head on her elbows. No matter how hard I went at her thighs, it had nothing on the way I attacked her back and ass. Even a few days later, I’m sure it’s still stinging, even with the balm I’ve been applying.

“Just couldn’t stay away, could you, Digs?”

I don’t reply as I step inside her cell, shutting the door to her cell behind me, but leaving it unlocked this time. She’s right, though—Icouldn’tstay away, and I didn’t want to. I’m so sick of the recent plague of bitterly anxious thoughts I’ve been hit with. No matter what I try, my mind won’t shut the fuck up these days.

However, when I’m with her, there’s a mellow calmness that quiets my thoughts. Being with her is like shooting myself with a small tranquilizer. I’m sated and happy, not that I’d admit that aloud.

Crouching beside her, I carefully roll up the hem of hershirt and tug down her pants to access her wounds. She hisses as the cool salve makes contact with the gashes slashed across her pale, olive-tinted skin. She rests her head in the crook of her elbow as I apply the balm to her perfect round ass before rolling onto her side, looking up at me with eyes that sparkle with playfulness.

Having convinced myself that Ineededthis, neededher,to help clear my muddied thoughts, I disregarded my better sense to stay away. From the jump, there has been nothingclearabout this woman, but as I tend to her now, my mind has as much clarity as a perfect diamond under the microscope, free of flaw.

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