Connor and Vince fight their forbidden attraction as they attempt to rescue themselves and fellow residents of the underground Refuge facility from a toxic breach.
*****
Conn...
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The next day after the daily routine, including an awkward but successful training session with Vince, I finally met with Dr. Randolph in his residence. First thing I did was apologize for missing our appointment, blaming sudden illness. It wasn't a lie, even though my sickness was heartache.
Sitting on the plush velvet love seat, facing the scrawny man, I emulated him by crossing my left leg over my right, hoping to radiate the same self-assurance he exuded. Tucked in his ear was a wireless earpiece that was nearly undetectable, if it weren't for the uneven skin tone color. Most people in authority wore one, especially when on duty. When pressed, the small, flesh-toned bud would connect to Control, who'd then link to the requested caller, establishing a private two-way communication until the ear piece was pressed again to disconnect.
He pulled his cup of tea from his shrunken lips. "You and my son work wonderfully together."
"Thank you, sir." I smiled, glad he noticed. Opening a conversation with a compliment or a joke was supposed to make the listener more relaxed, ceasing any tension. That was one of the first things I'd learned in class. However, there was no tension, only boredom.
"I can't put my finger on it, but something was different about today's training." He took a sip from his cup, eyes glued to mine. "Are you and Vince in the middle of something?"
My palms became damp with sweat. Could he somehow sense the illicit feelings I harbored for his son? Had he always suspected? Did he have something to do with Vince pushing me away? These questions had never crossed my mind before, because we had always been so careful, around Dr. Randolph especially. The only exception was when he almost caught us in what would have been an unexplainable position in the movie room years ago-the same time Vince started pulling away.
"Sorry, sir?" I gulped.
His eyebrow lifted. "Are you two having a falling out? A dispute?"
Did he notice my sudden relief? "It's nothing, sir. Just a little misunderstanding." I tried to look normal, as if my heart wasn't nearly beating out of my chest. If he had any indication of what Vince and my argument entailed, I wouldn't be sitting on his furniture having casual conversation. Instead, Vince and I would be in therapy for our perversion. And that involved weeks of solitary isolation and behavior conversion sessions. From what I'd heard, it was not something I ever wanted to experience.
He cleared his throat. "Little misunderstanding or not, you know my son has difficulty managing his anger."
I nodded, remembering the med-patch on his wrist. "I do." I ground my teeth to keep from saying anything else. It seemed as if he was trying to make a point, one I wouldn't like. So I waited. There was no need to try to defend myself from any blame. The fact was, I'd provoked Vince. Not intentionally, but nonetheless, it had happened.
"Though a little anger seems to improve his combat performance." He stared off into space. Seconds later, he shifted in his seat and grimaced in pain as he unfolded his legs.
