Page 69 of Zeus

"You guys can keep your clothes and any personal hygiene items you brought," she explains. "If you just lay out everything else right here, we'll get it into our inventory."

"Perfect," I say, rounding the back of the truck and dropping the tailgate.

I don't glance at Zeus when he meets me at the back of the truck, but I'm no less curious about him and the way he handled himself with Candy. I know better than to think he handled her with grace and kindness as a form of manipulation he wants to use to his advantage at a later date, but he has to know there can be trouble in how he treats the women here.

"Careful who you flirt with," I warn on a whisper, my eyes darting up to make sure that Candy is too far away to hear.

He chuckles. "Jealous?"

I drop the box I'm holding, the clank of supplies inside drawing her attention for a second before she lowers her eyes back to the clipboard she pulled from somewhere I didn't see.

"You have no idea who she's connected to," I explain, not giving a voice to his accusation. "Acting that way to the wrong woman can get you killed."

"Noted," he grumbles, grabbing a box and turning away from the truck, his asshole demeanor fully locked into place.

He isn't disrespectful to Candy, but she can tell as he walks toward her, no doubt a glare in his eyes and a snarl on his face that something has changed. Her lips form a flat line when he drops the box on the ground she indicated earlier, before turning back to the truck without a word.

Disappointment swims in her eyes as she watches him walk away, as if she had hoped he was different from what she had been told, only to discover that he isn't.

Watching that hope fade is a kick to the gut. It's clear she isn't happy here, and that she had imagined herself finding a friend in him, only for him to live up to his reputation.

It doesn't take us long to sort through what we're able to keep and what we're expected to hand over, but as soon as we lay the stuff out, Candy has it sorted and logged into her inventory.

I know from experience that this process has more to do with the organization's expectation of members' dependence on the group. For some, it might be punishment, all under the insistence that it's for the betterment of the group as a whole. It prevents theft in private lodging and prevents people from revolting against others in the group when they're pissed. Even the leaders of these groups know how much of a hothead some folks can be, and this is another way of preventing in-group violence and retribution.

If what Ricky said at the gate is true, and I don't doubt that it is, some people have got to be livid when they arrive, thinking they'll have an amazing life with the woman they brought, only to be told that she's now an item on their fucking inventory list. It also gives us an in and the ability to utilize those people's losses at a later date.

Planting seeds of doubt in the group is tricky, but it can be done with the right finesse and planning.

"Let me help you with that," I tell Candy when she grunts, lifting a heavy box.

Her eyes dart around, but she doesn't argue when I pull it from her hands. I don't know how long she's been a part of this group, but I can tell she has no standing in the hierarchy. It seems she knows every movement and every action she takes will be judged by someone.

"Just point me in the right direction." I nod, my eyes locked on the front of the supply building.

Hesitantly, she thanks me before walking in that direction.

Zeus follows behind me, another box of our logged belongings in his hands. I don't mind being helpful, and most days I would insist on it, but my real intention is access to the building.

My eyes dart in every direction as we step inside, and I know Zeus is logging everything he sees as well. The building is row after row of steel shelving, much like what you'd expect to see in the back area of any grocery or retail store. The bins are all labeled, and I'm not surprised to see sedatives, handcuffs, masks, and hoods indicating what's in the boxes above.

She points to an empty bin, and I place the box, turning around to grab the next one from outside.

Zeus and I both carry the boxes inside, refusing to let her help when she attempts. Over and over, we make trips, each box taking us down a separate aisle until everything is put away to her liking.

"We didn't have breakfast," I tell her when I place the final box, a case of MREs, on the shelf.

She glances down at her watch, an analog sort of thing, and I know it's intentional that she doesn't have a more modern Smartwatch. The organization would never allow her such a luxury.

"They have breakfast in the dining hall around the corner for another hour. If you hurry, you can grab something to eat," she says. They also have a meal request form at the front, but don't hold your breath on getting it anytime soon."

"Thanks," I tell her before going back out to the truck.

"Hey," she says, sounding out of breath as she stops me before I can climb inside.

"What's up?" I ask, although I already know what's coming.

"The truck," she says. "It also stays."