Page 45 of Uprising

“My parents didn’t teach me much, it was the nannies.” I’m not sure what makes me tell him that, but the moment they leave my mouth, I want to take it all back.

“Nannies, huh?” He smirks. I take my time looking over his face. One that has been hidden from me for so long. My eyes trail the length of the white raised scar from the corner of his mouth. His lips fell, realizing that I was staring at it.

“It was a hunting accident,” he mumbles out. Stirring the spoon around in the bowl, he scoops up some of the liquid and holds it to my lips. I swallow, wanting to ask about this hunting accident. But I have a feeling if I were to, he’d shut down and leave me alone. I’m surprised he’s still talking to me, so I only open my mouth to accept the delicious soup.

“How’s your pain level?” He asks, giving me another spoonful of food.

“Depends.”

Reed raises a brow, no doubt waiting for me to either answer him straight or yap about something that makes no sense.

“Tell me what happened.” I lick some of the soup from my lips. If I can’t convince him to just tell me, maybe I can seduce him.

“Try again,” he says, offering me another spoonful.

“I'd rather you tell me what happened first.” I’m grasping at straws at this point, but he can’tactuallythink that I don’t want to know. “The last thing I remember was standing somewhat near you.” I didn't tell him I was walking away. It was hard enough seeing his face while he was awake, but I didn’t need him to witness me being a big crybaby.

“Noah, your pain, what level is it?”

I roll my eyes, blowing out raspberries. It’s like talking to a brick wall, except I get more from the stupid wall than him. I don’t understand why he’s refusing to tell me.

“Fine, it’s there. It’s painful.”

Reed doesn’t seem satisfied with that answer. But he doesn’t say anything, just holds out another spoonful of soup. Both of us are quiet as I finish the bowl.

The thing about having parents that don’t pay attention to you is that you become sneaky. You come up with ways that you can move around them without being caught.

So when Reed stands up and announces he’s going to chop more wood outside, I know it’s my only time. If Reed won’t tell me anything about himself, then I guess I’m going to go search around.

And pray that I don’t get caught.

Or find something that makes me fear him.

Either way, I needed to know who Reed was.

CHAPTER27

Reed

Noah must think I’m stupid.

He’s up to something, and while I’m not entirely sure what it is, I’m not completely brain dead.

I wanted Noah to tell me he was in pain so I could give him more pain meds to make him go to sleep. It was wrong, but Ghost, that fucking devil, was shouting in my ear.

Shaking my head, I head back outside and pick up the axe I left by the back door.

I knew what he was going to do. Knew exactly what he had brewing inside his head. Noah might think he’s good at hiding his emotions, but he wears them on his sleeve. I know everything he feels. The moment he realized I wasn’t wearing my mask, I knew he was going to ask questions. Sure, a hunting trip was believable. And technically I wasn’t lying, but he thought I meant hunting deer or some other animal.

It was a woman who sliced my face up when I went after her husband. The abusive fuck deserved to die, but the girl didn’t think so.

Rolling my neck, I place a log on the stump and take a steady breath. I focus on the weight of the handle and swing backwards. With a grunt I split the log in half, both parts toppling to the side. Pushing it aside, I do the same thing with another piece of wood. Each time the log split, it was a satisfying reminder that I’m still me. I’m still here.

But with each log, it was a reminder that I didn’t need to be prepping this much. The moment Noah found what he was looking for, he was going to run. Even if the idea of telling him out loud burned like acid was dripping down my throat. He needed to find out for himself. It was easier if he did. I couldn’t look him in the eye and say the words. I couldn’t handle the terror he would have plastered to his face.

Noah’s been terrified of the zombies, but it’s different when the living is also a killer.

I couldn’t handle the shift in his expression, changing from wanting me to being scared of me. I didn’t want his judgment for what I did before they came back to chew on us.

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