A Fate So Cruel

Chapter 6 - A Stranger in the Night

Joseph had taken me down to the "red room" after he finished speaking with Lowen. While I didn't love the idea of being apart from Boston, Westley had wanted his help with something and I didn't want to step on any toes–especially when I wasn't sure when Boston and I would be leaving here. Plus, I didn't want to be alone with Jac or, worse, Isaac and/or Cohen when they returned from fishing.

Joseph seemed to be my safest bet. He was by far the least threatening of all the Resistance members I had met so far. Really, he stuck out like a sore thumb. Besides lacking the athletic build of the others, he also didn't have the same gruff exterior. Nor the haunted look in his eyes. Despite being probably in his early thirties, he still had chubby cheeks that made him appear years younger.

He led me down to the basement, where he introduced me to the "red room." Where the name came from was clear: the faded red walls and matching red comforter on the full-sized bed. Despite looking like a 70s motel room, it was head-and-shoulders better than rooms upstairs crammed with a few thin mattresses fashioned into cots where the rest of the Resistance slept. At least this room had a wooden dresser and a mirror stacked on top of it.

"This is where Lowen stays but he thought that you'd be more comfortable down here," Joseph explained.

My skin crawled at the idea of sleeping in the same bed that he had, even if the sheets had been cleaned. I tried not to let my face sour.

The tone that Joseph used when talking about Lowen made it clear that he deeply admired and respected him. Just like the rest of the Resistance, it seemed.

When I didn't say anything, Joseph pointed to a door on the wall next to the bed.

"There's a bathroom in there, too. With a shower. No hot water, though."

He looked at me nervously, eagerly anticipating my reaction. I forced a smile. It wasn't Joseph's fault that my life had imploded in the last 48 hours. There was no reason for me to make my bitterness his problem.

"Thank you, Joseph. It's great."

His body sagged with relief. My approval must have meant that he hadn't failed Lowen.

"Great!" He shifted awkwardly on his feet as if unsure what to do from here. "Well, uh, if you need anything, just let me know, okay? I'll be around."

"Okay."

He closed the door behind him.

I explored the room for a bit. Not that there was much to explore. All I found in the tiny closet was a muddy pair of boots, and under the bed I found an empty bottle of antibiotics dated from before the Lycan emerged. In the dresser, there were some old jeans and a fleece blanket, but the real treasure was a yellowed and creased paperback murder mystery book in the top drawer. I tossed it on the bed for later before going to shower.

Joseph hadn't been lying about the lack of warm water. The frigid liquid shocked my system when I stepped underneath the stream. Still, it was better than continuing to feel dirty.

There was no conditioner, but I lathered myself with soap and shampoo multiple times until I felt I had sufficiently washed away the grime.

When I stepped out, I was pleased to find that I'd been left a comb and a packaged toothbrush. After brushing my teeth and spending nearly an hour combing and braiding my tangled hair, I used the bar soap to scrub my clothes in the sink before handing them to dry on the shower curtain rod.

I slipped into an old t-shirt and pair of sweatpants that Boston had handed me before we parted ways. His scent lingered on the fabric, caressing my skin.