Page 115 of Code Bound
“No,” he answers out loud for us all to hear since he can’t speak in my mind. “The Harrow Gates are scheduled to open?—”
“Good,” I say cutting him off. I stand and start pulling on my clothes. Locke watches me as I move, as I cover up my scars and mangled arm. “We should get something to eat and find something to heal my arm.”
When Locke doesn’t immediately stand, I raise my brow at him.
“Oh, right,” he says, climbing from the bed himself. I force myself to look away even though the temptation to look as he pulls the sheet off is strong. I give him my back and listen to the sound of fabric brushing against skin. “You can look now.”
I turn and find Locke still without a shirt. My eyes trail over his broad shoulders and heavily muscled arms as he starts to drop the shirt over it. It’s just a little shorter now after having used strips of it for bandages, so I get a glimpse of skin across his stomach every so often. I won’t lie. I live for that glimpse.
“Let’s go,” Svetlana orders as she flutters across the room and lands on my shoulder. Locke twitches at the sound and shoots her a glare. “I am starving.”
The room we’re in is sealed with a large metal door. We have to spin a wheel to unlock it and then we have to step over a tall ledge out into a narrow hallway. As we walk through the hall of doors, I can feel the sway of the sea beneath us, making my steps jerky as I try to keep my balance. We round the corner and the ship opens out into a large room where tables are set up. There’s an area where crewmen serve food, but unlike the other safehouses, there doesn’t seem to be a bar, not in this room. Despite that, the same man from the previous safehouses stands behind the counter, a large white hat on his head, as he serves food on trays.
“That fucker has to be following us,” Locke whispers. “There ain’t no way it’s not the same guy.”
I shrug. “He wouldn’t be the only one following us,” I say, reminding him that we have a Leech on our trail.
We both grab a large segmented plate and get in line for food. The first crewman slaps a strange meaty mixture on my plate and I stare at it. When the second one gives me a Harrow Bar, I scowl. I thought this place was supposed to have better food? If I never saw another Harrow Bar again, it would be too soon.
“Excuse me,” I say to the man behind the counter. “Are you Billy or?—”
“Billy?” he responds angrily. “I’m clearly Larry. Don’t confuse me with my brother. We look nothing alike!”
“Uh . . . Larry,” I say, raising my brow. “Sorry for the confusion. Could you tell us why the food is . . . well, why it’s not as amazing as other safehouses?”
Larry stares at me. “This is the peasant line, player. If you want fancy-smancy meals, you can go on up to the rich levels and see if they’ll let you in.” He sniffs, looking between the three of us. “Don’t hold your breath. They don’t let anyone below a Tier Three in.”
I scowl. “So, they get the fancy food and we get Harrow Bars?”
“That’s how it works, don’t it?” Larry grunts. “Be happy you weren’t here last week. We didn’t even have the Harrow Bars.”
At the end of the line, I get a single apple slammed onto my plate, bruised, but still edible. At least I can still have fruit.
Locke and I find a seat at an empty long table and sit on the tiny stools. Both of us stare at our plates hesitantly. Apparently, we’ve been spoiled by the other safehouses.
“What is this garbage?” Svetlana asks, hopping down onto the table and picking up one end of the Harrow Bar. “It stinks.”
“Harrow Bars,” I answer. “Luxe sends them to Dross for us to fight over.”
“Those bastards,” she grumbles, tearing the bar open. She takes a hesitant bite, and then makes a surprise sound. “Oh. This is not so bad, actually.”
“Well, you can have it,” I grumble. “I’ll never eat one again if I can help it.”
While Svetlana tears into the Harrow Bar, I focus on the meat mixture on my plate. “We’re gonna have to see if we can sneak some better food from the rich room.”
“Agreed,” Locke says, pushing at the meat slop on his plate.
I set down my own eating utensil, a fork this time, and pick up the apple. At least there’s fruit. “So, what do we do now?”
“Well, that Leech is definitely going to be a problem,” Locke points out. “We barely escaped him this last time and he’s likely going to keep showing up”
“We’ll just have to keep avoiding him,” I sigh. Really, I don’t know what else to do. He’s a Tier Five. We really don’t stand a chance in a fight against him. I’d been lucky to catch him off guard this last time, but he won’t make that same mistake again. I’m willing to bet on it.
“Well, he’s clearly obsessed with you,” Locke points out as he continues to pick at the unknown slop on his tray. “Pretty sure he’d rather fuck you than kill you. Can’t say the same for me.”
“And?” I reply, scowling. Sure, there’s some strange attraction I can’t seem to fight for the Leech, but that’s hardly important. Just because I’m attracted to him doesn’t mean I have to act on it.
“I’m just saying it’s a bit less dangerous for you than it is me,” he grumbles. “The fucking Leech is going to suck me dry if I’m not careful, and not in a good way.”
