Page 73 of Zeus

"I'm fucking beat," Zayne says, a true yawn escaping his lips. "Think I'll grab a couple of hours."

"Yeah," I agree, following his lead because the man has been in situations like this before and understands what would be expected of us.

He walks forward and gives my hand a squeeze before climbing into the top bunk.

I kick off my boots and settle into the bottom bunk, knowing full well that my chances of sleeping are almost zero.

***

My brain comes back online before my eyes even open.

My ears home in on every sound, but it's the touch on my body that decides my first response. My arm shoots out, hands clamping around soft flesh just as my eyes snap open.

"Shit," I grunt, releasing Zayne's throat immediately before sitting up. "Sorry."

He rubs his throat, a weird smile on his face, which makes me narrow my eyes. I'm not in a position to ask, knowing there's a listening device in the room, but it isn't the first time he's reacted a little strangely to a hint of pain. The first time it happened, he seemed just as surprised as I felt, but the weird grin tells me he might be leaning into it a little more.

The conversations I need to have with this man are growing by the minute.

"Good dream?" he asks with a wink, taking a step back and giving me room to stand.

I shake my head, attempting to look a little disappointed, but the way the corners of my mouth are curled up, I know it's a battle I've already lost.

"What's up?" I ask with a grunt, stretching my arms over my head, and frowning when my hands hit the low ceiling.

This place almost feels like a cage, but I also know it's the best place on the compound that gives us a chance to decompress. As much as I hate it, I also don't want to leave it anytime soon, although I know that's not possible. We can't get the information we need to end this shit if we stay hidden away in here.

"Listen," he says, forcing me to pay more attention to my surroundings.

Music drifts around the room.

"I think there's a party. Could be fun," he says, and I know it's more of a reminder that we need to get to work rather than him wanting to go have a good time.

He opens the door to the building, and I'm surprised by the darkness outside.

"How long did I fucking sleep?"

"All fucking day. Should be fully rested," he says as he steps outside.

I follow, feeling more than a little exhausted. I have gotten used to functioning on little to no sleep, but there's just something about this job that's been completely draining me. Despite knowing I've been out for over ten hours, I still feel like I haven't slept in days.

There's no separation, and although I've infiltrated groups before since joining Cerberus, I've never been fully immersed like I am with this one. I've always had a break and the ability to decompress after a day of pretending to be someone I'm not. I don't know how Zayne has done it, time and time again, for so many years, and not gone completely insane.

Being on high alert twenty-four-seven is beyond exhausting, and we've just barely gotten started.

"They're serving dinner for another twenty minutes. Let's go eat," he suggests.

I follow, my eyes scanning everything they land on, my brain cataloging it all.

We don't mention the girl we saw there earlier today, but I know he's thinking about her just as much as I am.

Her story hit the news a few months back, but, as with most other missing-teen stories, people formed opinions about whether she deserved whatever she got for putting herself in a position to go missing. Her family says she got mixed up with the wrong group, but she was so secretive about who she was spending time with that it left her parents with very little information to give the police when she was gone.

Her story was quickly overshadowed by the next sensational bit of news and was quickly forgotten by the public.

The sad part is that I know the family is suffering. Her parents are losing sleep, not knowing whether every time their phones ring, it's going to be good news that she’s been found or bad news that they've recovered her body.

The dining hall is closer to our cabin than I'd like, cutting our walk and the ability to get to know the place better short, but we're in no position to argue about accommodations.