Manhunt

Chapter 37

Her body shot up, covered in a cold sweat as she nearly screamed her lungs off when the memories, as well as the pain, came crashing back to her. Her legs immediately pushed her against the backboard of the bed before she scanned the room swiftly. When she had the satisfaction of being alone, her heartbeat slowed, and her shoulders slumped. Her breaths were still shaky, but she had the closure that she needed.

Julia rested the back of her head on the backboard, closing her eyes and willing herself to calm down before opening them again. She was afraid to look at her arm. She didn't want to see how bad it was—how it looked after she hadn't bothered to treat it. She'd just been so tired and mortified, and her body refused to react the way she needed it to. It had simply given out on her.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly turned her head to face her left arm, her heart dropping when she saw bandages enveloping the entire length of it. Someone had treated her—an enemy had treated her, and she wasn't sure how she was supposed to feel about it. She was tortured by the enemy, only to have her wounds aided.

Was this some sick joke?

"You're awake." Her head snapped to where the bathroom door was, finding Matthew against the door frame before she moved to the edge of the bed. She hissed when she strained her arm from the action, glancing at it and using her right hand to gingerly test the bandaging. "Don't touch it. You'll just make it worse."

"Don't speak to me." Julia growled, glaring at him intensely as she crouched like some sort of animal. "Don't you dare speak to me as if you care. You think I'll forgive you just because you had tended to my wounds?" She scoffed at the mere possibility. "Don't make me laugh. All you did was watch me get cut up and rubbed salt on my wounds—oh, wait, make that alcohol."

She had mistaken his youth for his potential to be good. It was a mistake to believe that someone only a few years older than her couldn't be as terrible and fucked up as their leaders. As their agency. But she'd been wrong.

"It worked as a disinfectant."

"Screw you!" She nearly screamed, breathing heavily as she struggled to calm herself down. "I can't believe I actually thought—no, hoped—that you'd be better. That you wouldn't be a monster like them." Something flashed in his eyes, but it left as soon as it came. "I was stupid, because all you really are, is an enemy that needs to be taken out along with Samil and the rest of your organization."

"Even Zane?" Matthew snapped, giving Julia a nasty grin. "He's just like everyone else in this agency. He screwed you over, and his only purpose was to weaken your guard enough so that I can come in and completely destroy it. Zane never intended on ever seeing you as something more than just an objective. That's all you'll ever be to him—get that through your thick skull." There was something about him that'd caught Julia's attention as he spoke. It wasn't because he was steadily getting closer, or the fact that he had a long gash swiped against his cheek that hadn't been there before. There was something in his eyes that made her believe that what he said was absolute bullshit.

"You're lying." She whispered, despite her voice being firm and impenetrable. "You're lying and you know it." He stared at her with a blank expression, his head tilting downward to capture her fixed gaze.

"Give me your arm."

"Hell no," she denied, stepping off the bed when he placed a knee on it, climbing onto the mattress. "I told you to get away from me." Feeling the cool wall along her back immediately made her feel trapped, and he easily swung himself to the other side where she was. With only one thing left to do, since running away was no option, she sunk down to the floor and pressed herself further away from him.

"I want to see your arm." He stated through gritted teeth.

"Over my dead body—"

"Just let me see your fucking arm!" He yelled in frustration, nostrils flaring, and sliding off the bed to inch closer to her body. The back of her head hit the wall in an attempt to create more space between them, although it was pathetic and useless. His hand reached over to her shivering form, and she did the one thing she'd never thought she would do towards an enemy.