Part III • Chapter XIII

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The Boy from the Bushes

The Boy from the Bushes

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Sang

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Sang

Oh dear. This was so, so bad.

"Sang?" Rocky sounded confused, and from what I could make out of his expression, also seemed tired. The two of them must have been sleeping, and my literal falling onto Jay had woken them up.

Crap. What if they were grouchy morning people?

I held my breath, anxious from fear, as awareness gradually seeped into his expression and his frightening eyes began to sweep over me as he took in everything from my almost undressed state to numerous scrapes and bruises.

And if I didn't know any better I could have sworn I saw an inkling of concern, but it was quickly masked by his dark intensity.

I didn't know much about Rocky. He hadn't tried talking to me on the train here and I only remembered him as the boy I had run into one day when I was spying for PI. And outside of that one day at breakfast, hadn't spoken to me as a fellow tribute.

But if there was a ranking of people that I totally didn't want to run into during the games - he would have been one of the first on that list. I wasn't sure why. He had never harmed me or anything, per say, but something about his presence threw me off center.

I'd rather be stumbling around in the dark - cold and hungry - like I had been before.

"Rocky?" I forced out through chattering teeth - something that wasn't because my insides were crawling at his closeness. "I'm sorry! I must have gotten lost. I didn't mean to wake you two up."

Rocky frowned down at me as he ignored my apology. "What are you doing here?"

"Why are you apologizing to him?" Jay, my initial victim, was sitting up a few feet away and had been rubbing at his chest as he watched the two of us. "I'm the one you almost murdered with that pointy chin of yours."

I cringed at his statement. That was true, he could have died because of my chin! Maybe. And since I had hurt him, then they probably weren't going to let me go out of spite.

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