FanFiction is freaking out on me! I have no idea what it's doing. That's just a warning
Trustworthy
(FINNICK)
The look in Annie's eyes dominates my mind. I don't think I've ever seen such sadness in her eyes. Never. If I weren't such a useless, miserable moron, I could've comforted her.
I miss her so much. Words can't even describe how much it hurts – not just emotionally, but physically. My heart actually gets sore when I see her. I'm honestly considering groveling and begging on my knees to get her to forgive me.
Wow. I am really desperate, aren't I?
As I get closer to my house, I realize that I see three horses tied to the porch. Two men are on that porch. Their white uniforms catch my eye. Peacekeepers.
"You got a visitor," one of them says as I near the front door.
"And you got terrible grammar," I snap back. "Get the hell off my property." Usually, no one is this rude to Peacekeepers. But I know that they won't do a damn thing to me, so I just speak to them how I want to. All victors from 4 do.
I go inside. Our new Head Peacekeeper is seated on one of the couches in the parlor, scratching Barnabas at the base of his tail. "Mr. Odair," he says. "I'm sorry for barging in on you like this. But you did leave the door unlocked." Barnabas jumps off of his lap and starts rubbing his head against my ankle. "Why is that, may I ask?"
"Most people aren't dumb enough to break into a victor's house," I say. I pour two glasses of bourbon, hand him one, and sit on the couch across from him.
He smiles. "They did warn me you weren't fond of authority figures." He sniffs the bourbon and puts it down on the coffee table. "Do you know why I'm here?"
I take a swig of my drink. "Enlighten me."
"Lysander was murdered," he says. "And I think you know who did it."
"And what gave you that impression?"
"He followed President Snow's orders. Because of that, you thought he might have more information. Possibly about the cameras."
I look him over for a moment. There's nothing threatening about him. He's fairly small. Not threatening whatsoever. And the way he talks sounds forced. His accent is closest to District 2's, but it doesn't quite fit. His words are too distinct, if that makes sense. He enunciates too much.
"You could have asked, you know," he says. "The president simply wanted to keep a closer eye on you and your friends – particularly Annie. He meant no harm by it." He leans forward. "I am a trustworthy man, Mr. Odair. I do not lie. You should make a point of remembering that."
"Why are you here?" I ask. "Seriously."
He smiles again. His teeth are very white. You can tell from those white teeth, pressed clothes, and meticulously combed brown hair that he is big on personal hygiene. "I am here because your last Head Peacekeeper lacked the ability to maintain order. Especially among victors." He stands and begins strolling around my living room. I stand, too, if only to keep an eye on him. "And I thought I might get to know some of the more rebellious citizens of District Four."
Rebellious citizens of District 4. Rebellious citizens. Rebellious. Rebels.
I really do not like this guy.
"Get out of my house," I say.
He ignores my request. "I would like for us to trust one another. As I said, I am a trustworthy person. A man of my word." He opens his arms. "I carry no weapons on my person."
Why the hell would he tell me that?
"How'd you get promoted to Head Peacekeeper?" I ask, genuinely curious.
"I do not hesitate," he answers. "If someone has broken the law, I am glad to punish them. If I feel someone has wronged me, well . . ." he trails off and steps closer to me. "I am giving you a clean slate. Anything wrong you have done in the past does not matter."
I lean against the wall by the fireplace and cock an eyebrow. "Why don't I believe you?"
"Because you don't trust me." Belisarius sighs. "We will have to work on that. Ask me anything. I will give you an honest answer."
I inhale sharply. "Do you know who set that fire?"
"Yes. I did." He heads outside and I follow him. I watch as he and his two lackeys mount their horses. Before they ride off, I see him glancing towards the beach. "And here comes little Annie."
In that second, I forget all about Belisarius and what he's done.
I turn my head and sure enough, Broadsea is headed this way. He's carrying Annie. I'm next to him before I even realize I'm moving. "She okay?" I ask. "What happened?"
His answer is simple. "She finally started crying."
She's asleep – actually asleep. Her head rests at the base of Broadsea's neck. She's breathing through her mouth, which is open slightly. And her arms are wrapped around his neck.
I follow them into Annie's house. Britton's not home; he's with Io. He's had it rough this past week. He's got to take care of his sister and his girlfriend, while still mourning Calliope's loss himself. But it seems like Annie's falling through the cracks.
We take her upstairs. I pull back the covers and Broadsea puts her in the bed. Then I tuck her in. Broadsea and I look at each other for a second to see who'll leave first. Neither of us does. So we each grab a chair and sit by Annie's bed.
"What'd Belisarius want?" asks Broadsea.
"He wants us to trust him," I say.
"Effing weird," Broadsea says. But he doesn't say effing, if you know what I mean. "What else did he say?"
"He doesn't carry a gun," I say. "But that just seems stupid to me."
Broadsea nods. "Anything else?"
"He knows we killed Lysander. And he knows about the cameras. And . . ."
"And what?" he prompts.
"He set the fire."
"Then I guess you owe me an apology."
I just give him a look. We both know he's not going to get one.
We're silent for a moment before Broadsea asks, "Do you think he knows about the resistance?"
"I think he knows a lot of things." I inhale sharply. "And he's go this weird obsession with horses." Broadsea grunts in agreement. "So tell me – do you actually care about Annie, or do you just want to piss me off?"
Broadsea frowns. "Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you."
