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25
Annie
There was no disconnect between sleep and waking the next morning. I awoke knowing exactly where I was and why. It was awareness honed from working undercover where waking without knowing everything that had gone on before sleeping could get you killed.
It also helped that the mockingbird was making car alarm sounds outside the window.
Memory was further jogged by the fact of Cole, shaking me awake.
He didn't do it roughly or cruelly. In fact, he woke me with gentle but persistent shaking.
"Rise and shine, Annie. We're starting your new life today."
I sat up in bed and swung my feet out onto the floor. I wore my own t-shirt and underwear because no one had given me anything the night before. When I tried to get up, he put one hand out, touching the center of my chest. For a second I hovered between standing and sitting, a sort of modified squat position, then slowly went back to the bed.
"Look at me," he said.
I hadn't been. I thought, when in doubt, following the last instruction I'd been given was probably my best bet. My eyes rose to meet his. I saw no emotion there, nothing cruel or anxious. Nothing kind, either.
"First, your morning routine will be with me unless I'm working or out of town and haven't taken you along. On those occasions, I'll leave a trainer for you."
"Trainer?" I asked and at the very last second, thought to tack on, "Sir," though that part didn't come out as a question.
"Your morning routine will include some variation of the following: Five mile run, seven mile hike, or an hour on an elliptical machine or treadmills, followed by weights, the body part determined by the day of the week. Monday arms, Tuesday chest, Wednesday shoulders, Thursday back, Friday legs. Saturday and Sunday are recovery days. Weights will be followed by work on a heavy punching bag and yoga."
Before coffee?
I didn't ask that. I didn't say anything. His eyes bore into mine. I swallowed the reflex to say Yes, sir and he let it slide. I didn't think he always would.
"That routine will be followed by massage, shower, and a healthy, balanced breakfast. At breakfast you'll take the first of your day's supplements."
The cure. I breathed out. Yes.
For the first time it occurred to me to wonder how long the cure would take. I started to ask if I could ask him a question, quickly determined that would result in trouble if the answer was no, since asking was a question. Instead, I said, "Sir."
He smiled at that. It was disturbing how kind he could look when he smiled. At least when I was riding with Jesse I never lost track of who and what he was. He never looked kind. His gentlest smile held malice and danger.
"Do you have a question?"
"Yes. Sir." It was going to take a while to get used to that.
He nodded at me to go ahead.
"How long does the cure take?"
It was a serious question and he gave it attention. There was something about him that struck me a lot of the time as both malignant and somehow young. Like a small boy capable of really mean pranks. I didn't think he was a psychopath. The fact that I was having so much trouble identifying just what he was probably meant he truly was a sadist.
I'd had zero experience with that. Until my life had made this weird detour, I'm not sure I actually believed in such a thing.
But when it came to the pharmaceuticals, he was serious. "Are you asking about the cure and the addiction? Or are you asking about the length of the contract." He stood at the end of the bed, one shoulder against the poster there, his legs crossed causally at the ankle, his arms crossed over his chest. Physically he was beautiful. I just wasn't too sure what he was like inside.
I found myself blushing at his perception. Before signing away your right to being an autonomous human, perhaps reading the contract was a good idea.
"I'm actually asking both, if that's allowed."
He arched an eyebrow. "If that's allowed, sir. And I won't always allow this sort of hedging and feeling your way in. If you're trying to avoid being punished for infractions by sneaking in a back way, be aware that eventually the pussyfooting itself will be punishable."
Of course it would. I disliked the flare of excitement that sped through me. My ass still hurt. Even sitting on the bed was painful and I was sure he knew it.
