Chapter Seven

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Three o'clock came around much quicker than I'd have liked. I'd tried my best to join in with the others, and keep my spirits high, but all I could think about was Four's story about Rita. The poor girl, all she'd wanted was to get rid of Eric, and she'd ended up dead.

At lunch I'd seen Calvin. He'd sat on the end of our table with Lu and all I could do was stare at him. He'd tried to warn me off with the alcohol thing, completely oblivious to the things that Four had also seen concerning Eric and I, I'm sure if he'd known he'd have been beside himself. I couldn't let myself be controlled by Eric, Calvin would eventually realise and I was certain that the pain of losing his close friend would resurface.

When the Leaders left the dining hall, I stared after them, my eyes boring a hole into Eric's back. Surely they would have been concerned about what had happened? Four made it sound as if they didn't care. What if they didn't? They were incredibly ruthless... But I was certain that they didn't condone violence unless it was necessary, and from the way Four had described her, Rita didn't seem like the type of person that would try to kill Eric, only for him to get her instead.

"Jac, it's three." A soft nudge in the ribs, and a whisper from Freddie reminded me that I needed to leave.. And my stomach started to flutter, but not for a good reason.

"Thanks." I got to my feet, and said my goodbyes before heading towards the Pit.

If what I had been told was true, and Eric did want to control me, how would I get out of it? Rebelling against him seemed like a terrible idea, and just doing what I was told would be playing right into his hands. I couldn't win. Not unless I died, or became Factionless, and even then I don't think that I would be winning.

I sighed, and looked up from the floor as I arrived at the entrance to the Pit. Eric was stood towards the back of the room, surrounded by targets, leaning against a table.

His muscular arms were folded firmly across his chest, and he was staring at me. "You're late."

I glanced up at the large clock on the wall. "By two minutes."

"Two minutes longer that I have to be here." He grumbled. "Hurry up."

We started with knife throwing, and I'd tried my hardest to remember the stance that he'd taught me on the first day, and the techniques that Four had taught us. However, as I did this, my mind travelled back to how Eric had grabbed my hips that day and how rough he had been. I shuddered as I realised that grabbing someone roughly wasn't even half of what he was capable of.

"You cold?"

I shook my head. "I'm fine."

He slowly nodded, and I could feel his eyes boring into the side of my face. "Throw again then. Put more power behind it."

I shook out my arms, then positioned myself properly again. I concentrated on the centre of the target, then threw the knife, using more strength. I watched as it hit fairly close to the centre, only off to the left by about an inch.

"That was better." Eric stated and handed me another knife. "Do it again, hit the same spot."

I did as he wanted, and the knife hit the spot a few inches up and to the right of the last one.

"Once more." He ordered, and I took the last knife from him, then threw it. This one bounced off of the target and loudly clattered to the floor. I frowned.

"You weren't trying that time." Eric stated. "Go and collect them."

I didn't argue, just silently walked over to the target and pulled the knives out. "Why are you so concerned with how I rank?" I questioned.

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