Hi!

I'm back, temporarily, to post this AU that I started in 2017. I never finished it, so I figured I'd post what I have and write a few more chapters while I have some time.

Thank you so much to Bamberlee for editing this :)

I don't own the rights to anything, except for Rylan's hair, Everly's reluctance to wear pants, and Jason's obsession with all things supernatural. I'll try to update this on Fridays! I thought it was cute, and like the million other documents on my laptop, needed to be shared with the world.

If you've never read any of my work and clicked on this, I highly suggest reading The Training first or these characters might not make sense. If you don't have 75 years to read that story, in this one, Eric is 24, Four is 24 and miserable, Rylan and Jason are 24, Everly is 18, Tris is 20, Christina is 20, Harrison is 110, and Eric still doesn't like his mother or father.

Happy Friday!


His stare is furious.

For once, it is not aimed at me. The displeasure all over his face is caused by Four, and rightfully so. A few minutes ago, he walked into Eric's office and handed him the initiation paperwork, four days after Eric asked for it. This gives Eric a single day to look it over before initiation starts, and almost no time to make any changes.

It's a bold strategy on Four's part, but not a smart one.

"Did you miss the email where I asked for this on Monday?" Eric's tone is acidic, and so is the withering stare he bestows upon Four. "I told you to have it on my desk by eight am. Today is Friday, and it's nearly five pm."

"I haven't had time. Max wanted to meet with me about making sure the training room is prepped. The bags needed to be restitched. The knives had to be sharpened. I'm sure you understand." Four's answer is far from an apology. He shrugs, then looks over at me. "If you wanted it so badly, you could have sent Everly to come get it."

Eric looks over at me out of the corner of his eye, and the change in his posture is noticeable. He sits up, lowering his shoulders and pulling his spine perfectly straight, before he shakes his head. "I could send Everly to do a lot of things, but fetching your paperwork isn't one of her jobs."

Four lets out a huff of exasperation, but I'm not sure what he's expecting. I'm certainly not about to defend him. We'd both sat in on the same meeting, the very one where Eric demanded the initiation curriculum before the initiates showed up, and Four agreed to his request. Everyone in the meeting –Max, Tori, Lauren, even Jason and Rylan -who only stopped by to see if anyone brought lunch –knew that Eric had plans on ripping the packet to shreds and forcing Four to go back to a set of training plans that Eric approved, and the request was a mere formality.

"What's the point of having her if you aren't going to use –"

"I'd think long and hard about the next words out of your mouth, number boy." Eric snaps. "What my assistant does is my business. What you do during your training is my business. This paperwork, late and unapproved, is my business. Since you are so unwilling to provide the materials needed to do your job here, you're to refer to the previous training manual and nothing else. You'll use that one, and if I find out you aren't adhering to the curriculum, we'll be having another discussion. Are we clear?"

Four's expressions darkens.

It's interesting to see him upset, because in my own training, he was pretty even keeled, if not a bit boring. I showed up to Dauntless not knowing what to expect, and my introduction to it was swift. After one heart stopping drop off the roof, I was yanked off a net and introduced to Four.

With zero personality, he droned on that he was the trainer for all transfers, and our survival here depended on him. We had a single day to settle in, then I found myself in over my head. Four trained us five days a week, scored everyone on an unfair scale, and gave no one special attention. I passed by the skin of my teeth, ranking somewhere below Karl and his friends. I had been lucky enough that they took an interest in me; as the only person coming from Amity, the odds were stacked against me and it was clear I was considered easy competition. Four made it a point to remind me that I was expected to earn my place here, and that I wasn't special.

As one of the few female transfers, my initiation was miserable. Coming from Amity didn't help, and neither did being far shorter than everyone in the class. Despite Karl's lingering gaze and all too eager grin, I aligned myself with him the second I could. I made friends with his friends, all much taller and stronger than I could ever hope to be and made sure I was never alone. I barely slept. I ate only when they did, and I stuck by their sides during our mock patrols. I learned how to avoid attracting too much of Four's attention, but also made sure the attention I received wasn't too little. I needed him to know my name, but not in a way that I stood out.

As a result, I was in the top. During the fights, I managed to be paired up with initiates I knew, mostly Karl's friends who wanted me to succeed right along with them. Everyone was scrambling to earn a decent spot, so when I came in fifth, I was relieved. It was high enough that I wasn't at the bottom, and decent enough that finding a job would be easy.

Well, it should have been easy.

Turns out, most of the patrol squads weren't looking for someone like me. I quickly learned that my ranking didn't matter; I wasn't considered strong enough, nor was I intimidating. One squad leader took a mild interest in having me join his squad, but he was hell bent that I cut my hair short before he'd even consider it. Another looked over my application for a route almost no one wanted, then he shook his head no, and informed me I'd have better luck on a squad that wasn't gone for weeks at a time. I applied for other openings, figuring I'd have some luck in one of the shops, the bars, or even the daycare.

To my horror, I was turned away from everywhere.

The bars wanted experience, even though Paul looked at me longingly and muttered that he'd try to convince the owner to take me on as a trainee. He lamented that he was short staffed, but the owner preferred to hire those who didn't need so much training, and Paul had limited hours to spare. The shops were already staffed, and they were receiving tons of applicants from the lower ranking initiates. My scores might have been decent, but it didn't matter if no one hired me. After the tattoo shop turned me away, saying they needed someone who didn't look so wholesome, my chest tightened at the thought that I was about to be assigned an apartment, and I'd have no way to pay for it.

Having no actual job here would eventually get me kicked out. Everyone had to contribute. Even though my apartment only cost a few points a month –the funds going toward water and maintenance for the giant underground faction –I only had so many points left over from initiation. On a bleak day a few weeks after I celebrated making it through the training class, I soon realized I was running out of everything; time, points, and friends who could help me. Karl and his friends easily found jobs, had agreed to live together, and were thriving. The only other girl who made it had already taken a job in the kitchens, and she smiled tightly and told me she wanted to live alone.

I knew I had to do something.

I could probably have made it until the next initiation if I was careful. Eventually, I wound up finding a mind-numbing job working in one of the stores, and was hired to work the hours no one wanted. I spent almost five months there. I hung up clothing, stocked shelves, and occasionally lamented that I could be doing the same thing in Amity. I might as well be working in the general store, and there was absolutely nothing thrilling or challenging about being here.

Near the end of the fifth month, I grew desperate.

I gave a two weeks' notice, and figured I would try again. I'd reapply for some of the jobs I'd been turned down for, and hopefully, someone would have an opening.

Fate smiled upon me when I slunk down to the mess hall for breakfast, and I spotted the flier on the wall. It was a list of still available job openings, and one caught my eye. It offered a higher pay than any of the others, it was in an office, and though the hours were a little chaotic, there was a bonus if I made it past six months. The last sentence revealed the position was for an assistant to one of the Leaders, with the promise of a potential promotion if interested.

I immediately applied.

Sure, I didn't have half the skills the flier listed. I could barely type, having taken a few meager lessons on the ancient computers Amity used on the rare occasion. I didn't know the computer software they used, and I hadn't been trained in any of the protocols the flier listed. But I was patient, I was willing to try, and I didn't mind working past five. I figured if I stayed the six months, I'd maybe find something else in the meantime, and this would be great experience. I assumed the Leaders didn't bring their assistants out to patrol with them, and they probably wouldn't make me fight anyone to prove I could stay here. If it came down to it, I had fired a gun a few times, and my fighting skills were passable.

A single hour later, I turned in a completed application. Once a cheerful receptionist named Linda read through it, she brought me to Max. He skimmed it with a grin, then they sent me to an unmarked office. I knocked on the door, ignoring the nervous feeling in my stomach as I wondered if this was for one of the older leaders, maybe Harrison. It could have been for someone training to be a leader, and that thought made me feel better.

It lasted all of three seconds until Eric opened the door.

I almost bolted.

I'd left Amity hell bent on proving myself, so I refused to appear afraid, but Eric was terrifying. I'd met him exactly twice: once was when he goaded us to jump off the roof, and the other was when he sneered as I walked by him with Four's class. I'd seen him around the faction plenty of times. We listened to his speeches on a weekly basis, and I found him to be shockingly eloquent. He knew how to hold everyone's attention, and better yet, he got to the point.

I also knew he didn't have the most stellar reputation.

Which was why he'd gone through twelve assistants in the last three months. Each one had lasted approximately one week. The only reason he didn't forget about the idea completely was that his workload had doubled, and he needed someone to help him.

Looking back, I never could have predicted how it would go.

Eric stared down at me with one unimpressed, disinterested glare. He scowled, demanded to know if I was serious, then started to slam the door in my face. My protest caught him off guard, and while he wasn't impressed with me, he did listen when I told him I was willing to do anything to get the job, and I would work as hard as I could.

Eric's lips pressed together, and when he cocked his head, I knew it wouldn't be easy. He was going to make my life a living hell, and my only option would be to quit. He told me I was expected to work when he did, and I would be on call twenty-four hours a day. I had to attend every meeting with him, he wouldn't approve any of my time off requests, and the best-case scenario is that I wouldn't be shot when he went to break up factionless riots. He had high expectations for his assistant, and if I failed, he would be more than happy to let me know.

Rather than backing down, I accepted the job, shook his hand –a handshake so violent I knew he was trying to spook me, and went home to celebrate. I went to bed early, and when I woke up the next morning, I was excited. Truly optimistic that it would work, and eternally confident that it might be enjoyable.

It only took me a few minutes of being in his office to realize I was wrong.

Having little patience for someone he thought was going to stick around for only a few days, Eric threw me a uniform jacket, barked at me to sit down at his desk and start going through files, then stalked off to find me a laptop. I gingerly picked up a blue folder and blinked at the list of names. There were hundreds in no specific order, and once he returned, Eric announced my job was to type them up, in alphabetical order, with the percentages listed after. Within the hour, I figured out how to use the laptop, but I wasn't as fast at typing as he'd like.

Still, I persisted.

I showed up each day, sometimes with a not totally authentic smile, and did my best. I responded to emails for him, having learned which he actually took an interest in. I fetched his coffee, his lunch, and sometimes his dinner. I picked up his uniforms from a man the same size as me, who always boldly assumed I was more than Eric's assistant. I used his card to order boots for him when his became too soft for his liking, and mended his shirts when he brought them in, annoyed over lost buttons or rips along the sleeves of expensive clothing he didn't want to toss out.

I learned his routine, occasionally accompanying him while he got his haircut, and sometimes, he'd have me answer his phone. I spoke to his father on more than one instance. He was always pleasant, yet surprised, and on occasion, he asked if I would ever be in Erudite. I spoke to his mother exactly once, and she curtly demanded I put him on the phone immediately. When it was a full moon, or he was in a hurry, I was brought along to eat lunch with him, Jason, and Rylan. It was clear that would only happen if he were running late or something pressing needed my attention. He'd more or less tell me I was coming along, and I'd wind up shoved in the corner of a booth while he and his friends swapped stories about the other factions.

Around the fifth month, something shifted.

Not in an obvious way, but in a subtle, almost unconscious manner. I now had a cell phone that he called when he needed something, and a planner full of his important meetings. I knew every single one of his projects, and while some were terrifying, I made sure his deadlines were met. He trusted me enough to reveal that a girl from Erudite came to see him, and to my surprise, it didn't take me long to dislike her.

He didn't outright say she was his girlfriend, but it was heavily implied he wasn't just having her drop by for coffee.

Ashley was not my favorite person.

In any way.

I wasn't jealous of her relationship with Eric. I didn't like her because she hated me from the moment we met. If there was a stronger word than hate, that's what Ashley felt for me. On a random Wednesday, she showed up out of the blue, like Erudite was mere minutes away, and she'd simply walked over. Her eyes widened in disgust, and she shrilly demanded to know why I was using Eric's computer.

His explanation that I was his assistant made the color drain from her face.

"She's your assistant? I thought you said you fired the last one."

She had absolutely no reason to be threatened. Ashley was prettier than pretty, tall and thin, and older than me. She wore expensive clothes, her hair was never in a ponytail, and she had probably never been to Amity. Her initial reaction was telling, but so were the rest of our encounters.

Each time she made a show of her distaste for me, and sometimes, it was obnoxious enough that Harrison would purposely interrupt, and demand Eric accompany him out of the faction, forcing Ashley to return to Erudite. It didn't take her long to figure that one out. Short of shrieking and stomping her foot, she had no choice but to grit her teeth and force a very fake smile.

So, while she was never nice, she now ignored me. When she was forced to acknowledge my existence, her comments were as sharp as barbed wire, and as scathing as her stare. She was visibly bothered by the thought of Eric and I working together, as though the one time my arm accidentally bumped his would eventually lead to him professing his love for me. She often asked for him to fire me, insisting I was better suited to work elsewhere. When he didn't, she took to insulting my general appearance, then my intelligence.

Daily.

It was then I figured out that he tolerated her purely because he was content with their arrangement.

On a particularly foul visit, Ashley forcefully pushed me into the side of Eric's desk. She snickered as the papers went flying, then chastised me for making a mess. She crouched down, carefully, in her high heels, and picked up the paperwork like I'd done it on purpose.

"Do you actually help here, or do you contribute to the chaos?" She asked, her tone snippy and superior. "How does Eric get anything done with you around him?"

"Well, he doesn't normally push me into his desk, so –"

I was cut off by the malicious stare from both of them. Neither looked happy, but especially Eric. My stomach sank, because I was only a few weeks away from the bonus, and if he fired me for not being nice to his girlfriend, none of this would be worth it. I swallowed my pride as best I could, and left, mumbling that I was going to take my lunch.

I half expected Eric to bark at me to sit back down, but he was distracted. Ashley was practically on his lap, excitedly purring about how thrilled she was to move here.

At the time, I couldn't figure out what she meant.

But once I did, after Linda let it slip that Ashley and Eric were engaged to be married, I almost didn't go back to his office. I felt stupidly defeated, like my days were numbered, because Ashley had somehow won.

And she had.

This was a big deal. It was something that had never been done before, and something that would set a precedent for leaders everywhere. With enough power and points, Eric would be the first to marry someone from another faction. Ashley would move here, to do…. whatever it is Eric's wife was expected to do. Linda whispered that Ashley didn't want to do anything, and she and Eric routinely fought about her working in Dauntless.

Still, her position would be prestigious. It was proof there could be peace between the factions, and it would strengthen the alliance between Dauntless and Erudite. Ashley's parents held high ranking jobs at one of the labs, and from Linda's other whispers, they had a heavy hand in which serums were produced. She then asked what my parents did, and I very quietly admitted my father ran the greenhouses, and my mother worked in Amity's lone medical clinic. I knew their jobs wouldn't be considered as important as Ashley's parents, but it furthered the divide between her and me.

Sometimes, in the most fleeting of moments, I felt like Eric and I belonged together. Not in a romantic sense, or anything past our working relationship, but because I knew more about him than most. Because I had worked alongside him for the past five months, I'd grown as close as one could to Eric Coulter. I knew what shampoo he liked, and what heavy gel he preferred to keep his hair in place. I knew his shoe size, his jacket size, even the way he preferred his bagel to be buttered. I could rattle off his workout routine, the days he went down to the gym instead of his four pm meeting, and I knew which Fridays he'd ask for me to reserve a table at Clyde's for him and his friends.

Ashley knew none of this.

My frustration over her only grew when she tried to correct me for grabbing Eric's coffee along with mine, hissing that I didn't know how he drank it. But I did know. For months now, I used his card to pay for both our drinks –his black, with a single pump of a hazelnut syrup he allowed as a lone indulgence, and mine iced, with two pumps of the same syrup and the alternative milk he scowled at. She hinted that I didn't know anything about him, all while she demanded he accompany her to Erudite to visit the shops, three minutes after he returned from a patrol with Jason. Eric stared at her like she'd asked him to move to Amity. He and Jason were red faced and sweaty, and their exhaustion was clear as day. They gratefully reached for the waters I had ready, and Ashley grew livid when I sat beside Eric to type up his field report. He barked at her that he wasn't going anywhere, then told her to fuck off while he finished his workday.

She blamed me.

She icily informed him that I had no right to be in his business, and she only stopped when Harrison showed up and told her something had arrived for her. She left with a smug smile, off to fetch whatever had been delivered, and I continued typing Eric's report. He sighed, knocking my leg with his when he sank down into the chair beside mine, and muttered that he needed something stronger than water.

So, while I wasn't in love with Eric, far from it, I had a good relationship with him. He rarely scolded me, he seemed to appreciate my work, and sometimes, when he was incredibly over his work or he wanted to go home early, he'd smile. A real smile, usually tight lipped and strained, and it was my cue to announce I was done with my work for the day so we both could leave.

He throws me the same smile right now, as Four shifts his weight and looks at the ground.

"Understood…Sir."

"Good. Now get lost. I expect to not see you until Monday." Eric returns his attention to the computer, and his eyes flit over to me once Four leaves. "You done over there, Amity? I'm meeting Christian at five thirty. If you're finished with that report, you can leave."

"I'm almost done." My fingers pause over the keyboard, and my curiosity wins out. "Are you getting a new uniform? I don't have it on your schedule. Did I miss your appointment?"

He got a new jacket every month. I couldn't figure out why, but sometimes, the blue stripe was on the arm, and other times, it was not. But he already had one made this month, and in fact, he's wearing it right now. Eric looks over in my general direction, chewing on his cheek for a moment, like he's debating answering, and his gaze is far away.

"A different jacket," he finally mutters, looking only at his computer. "You can go as soon as you're done."

"Sure. Do you need anything over the weekend?" I close the laptop after I send him the file I was just working on. "Or is everything good for initiation? I know you aren't overseeing it, but are you checking in before it starts?"

"You're fine. I don't need anything from you." He nods dismissively, and my phone beeps. "If anything comes up, I'll let you know."

"Okay, I'll see you Monday." I grab the bag I've brought with me, stalling just long enough to check my phone. It's synced with his, which means I have to be careful what's on it. It has the same software his does, and this means that more often than not, everything he receives comes to me.

Including calendar events from his girlfriend.

I quickly swipe away the alert that Ashley will be here in an hour, with plans to stay through the weekend to attend a fitting for her wedding dress. His name is on the appointment, too, to be fitted for a suit. I debate deleting the event, but he'll be alerted that I did.

Instead, I head home silently, pretending this doesn't bother me in the slightest.


I spend the weekend trying not to wallow in self-pity.

I remind myself that I work for Eric, and nothing more. In an attempt to preserve my sanity, I meet up with a few friends. I join Karl, CJ and Kevin at Clyde's for a game of darts. It's a decent distraction from Eric and his wedding, and I have a blast until I turn around and crash right into Rylan.

"Whoa! I always forget how short you are. Every. Single. Time."

Rylan grins, eyeballing me to make sure I'm okay. His hair is wild today, unlike when Max reminds him to pull it back to give the slight appearance of authority. It usually ends up a mess anyway, but today, it's extra uncontained.

"Sorry, I didn't see you. What are you doing here?" I blurt out the question, then mentally kick myself. He's here all the time, usually with Jason and Eric. "I mean, I know you hang out here. I just wasn't expecting to see you."

"You should always expect to see me, Everly. I'm everywhere." He grins widely. "But today, I'm meeting Jason. He and I are here to discuss…" Rylan pauses, and his stare meets mine. "A plan. I told him I'd be late, but I wound up being early."

"Sounds fun," I grin, knowing this could be anything. Rylan worked as hard as Eric, but just not as often. He liked to claim his productivity came best when he was under pressure, and it was just as productive to work for two hours a day rather than eight. I wonder if his plan has something to do with shortening the workday. "Are you meeting the initiates Monday?"

"The initiates?" He makes a face. His gaze whips around the bar to look for Jason, then he shakes his head. "Hell no. In fact, I was personally asked not to be there. Something about being a hazard to the newbies. I'm on guard duty with Peter. I know you have to be there."

"Yeah, Eric told me we're meeting them." I shrug, knowing my presence will be nothing more than reinforcement that Eric is someone they should fear, and he's powerful enough here to have people work for him. "Hopefully, our part is quick."

"How long have you worked for Eric?" Rylan's expression changes to faux innocent curiosity. I have a feeling he knows, so his expression makes me nervous. "A while now, right?"

"Almost six months. I think next week is exactly six months."

"Interesting." He mutters, but not to me. His eyes widen when he spies Jason walking in, and he waves dramatically. "I gotta go. I'll see you Monday, or maybe not. I might sneak in just to see if I know anyone."

"Bye, Rylan."

He bounces away, his hair everywhere, and I jump when Karl elbows me.

"You're up, Carlen. Hey, what did Rylan want? Did he invite you to the wedding?" Karl's stare follows Rylan over to Jason, and the two of them head toward the bar to order drinks. "I saw him earlier going to get fitted for a suit. I think he's part of the wedding party."

My stomach tightens.

"Yeah, I um, would think he'd be part of it. He's Eric's friend…" I trail off, struggling not to look like this bothers me. It shouldn't. Eric is no one but my boss, and the feeling is mutual. "I wonder if he likes Eric's girlfriend."

"I heard she's hot." Karl answers. "But I haven't met her, so who knows?"

"Yeah, who knows," I repeat, deciding not to confess that I have met her.

I rejoin the group throwing darts, then take my place on the line. With some cheering from CJ and Kevin, I manage to hit the target dead center. Karl lets out an impressive whistle, and for a brief moment, I feel a rush of happiness.

I'm fine.

Eric would marry his girlfriend, and she'd live here like she'd always been part of the Dauntless faction. Nothing would change. I'd still work for Eric, our relationship would stay the same, and life would go on. This was me, simply panicking over a situation changing, after I finally felt like I fit in.

I force myself to forget about Eric, but when I turn around to take a sip of my soda, from across the bar, Jason and Rylan are staring right at me. Their heads are bent together, and they're furiously whispering. When they realize I can see them, they look guilty, but just for a minute.

Rylan winks, then the two of them turn to order another beer, and the next time I look, they are gone.


Monday rolls around before I'm ready.

I dress in the unofficial uniform that I would normally wear –a shirt, leggings, and a jacket that I could throw on if the need arose –until my phone rings. I answer it while I fix my hair, and since it's Eric calling, I have a feeling it's about initiation.

"Did you leave yet?" Eric demands. His voice is low and rough, gritty because he hasn't had coffee yet. I always picked it up on my walk in, and he always waited to drink what I ordered him. "Amity? Are you alive?"

"I'm just about to leave. Do you want anything besides coffee?" I pull the jacket on, figuring it'll be cool on the walk there. "Maybe a muffin?"

There's a muffled conversation in the background, and it sounds like Jason or Rylan. I can normally tell their voices apart; Rylan's was always higher and much more enthusiastic, while Jason's was lower, and often dryly amused. This is different though. Someone is squabbling just loud enough that I can hear the word mistake, and I wonder if someone has fucked up initiation already.

"Fine. Whatever they have," Eric finally answers, and I can picture him rubbing his temples. "I'm calling to tell you to wear pants. You and I have to be downstairs to greet the initiates with Max and I need you in your official uniform."

"What?" I pause in my tracks, desperately trying to remember if I still had the actual uniform pants. He'd given me several pairs. Well Christian had, and while Eric never outright said I had to wear them, it was implied that I would follow the Leader's dress code for important dates. "I um, are you sure I have to be there? Shouldn't I watch with Kacie?"

When I first started working for him, I got a crash course on how the Dauntless faction handled initiation. The Leaders had minimal involvement, except for Eric. Max and Tori trusted the two trainers to do their job, and on only the rarest of occasions would Jason or Rylan help. Through the rumor mill, I heard Eric oversaw one initiation class, but his methods were far more intense than what Four preferred.

Eric informed me that last year, after everyone jumped, he watched the first day from the control room, beside Kacie. She kept a running list of who was actively choosing the faction, and Eric's interest lie only in who would stick around to potentially work a route he was invested in. He only went down to give the barest greetings of an introduction to Dauntless, and it seemed like his mission was purely to intimidate anyone who thought this would be easy.

I avoided him until I walked past with my class. He and I locked eyes at the exact same moment, and I lost my nerve when he narrowed his after someone muttered the word Amity. It sounded dirty, and I knew this made me an immediate target for him. His assumption was I would fail, and it must have thrown him off when I didn't immediately die that week.

"What do you mean, do you have to be there? I just told you." Eric's patience is even less than normal. "Amity, you better not have lost your uniform."

"I didn't lose it, I just…don't normally wear it." I frantically rifle through a drawer, and all I come up with are dark shirts, more leggings, and some dresses I'd purchased since I sometimes want a change from the dark colors. "I'll just stay with Kacie. No one will notice. I promise. I –"

"Amity, hurry the fuck up. I don't have time for this today." The snap in his voice is different; he's majorly annoyed, and this time, it's at me. "We have to be there in a half hour."

"I'm –"

He hangs up.

The phone disconnects in my ear, and I struggle not to panic. I have five more days until it'll be six months of working for him, and I just need to get through this week. I figure once he's married, he'll be distracted, or maybe he'll lighten up since Ashley will be here all the time. Either way, I decide to hurry, because he's already irritated, and he'll just be even more pissed off if I'm late.

I practically sprint out of my apartment, in what is definitely not my uniform.


"Here, not that one, put this one on."

With an impatient glare, Eric throws a darker jacket at me. It's heavy and thick, and I hate how it feels against my skin.

"You can put it on while we walk. We have five minutes until everyone has jumped." Eric turns to look down at me, and our height difference is never more apparent than now. "Are you listening, Amity?"

Today, his vicious mood is aimed at me. He's not pacified by the extra large iced coffee, or the blueberry muffin. I made it on time, and when I handed him the drink, our fingers touched. He tilted his head up like he was about to say something, then instead, hissed at me to change.

"I am. It's just really heavy!" I slide my arm through the sleeve, and the weight is more than I'm expecting. "Who made this?"

"Christian." Eric answers tightly. He stares me down while I slide my arm into the other sleeve, then fumble to zip the front. The zipper sticks, because of course it does, and he's making me so nervous I can barely grasp it. "Amity, have you never gotten dressed before? What is wrong with you?"

"It's stuck!" My protest dies when he storms over, and in a fit of petulant rage, yanks the zipper up. The pull breaks right off, and my gasp makes him pause. He glowers, like this is my fault, and his expression is violent. "Um, how am I going to get it off?"

He raises his eyebrows so high they nearly disappear into his hair. "I don't care how you get undressed, but we are leaving. Now."

I nod.

I follow him silently, grabbing my drink on the way out, and I stay right by his side. When I first started working with him, he didn't seem to care if I lagged behind him. It didn't take Eric long to figure out that I didn't know Dauntless as well as he did, and sometimes, he walked so fast I couldn't keep up. After getting lost more than once, he slowed down, and eventually, the two of us walked side by side. It was easier this way; not just so he could explain things when he didn't want anyone else to overhear him, but we showed up as a unified front, always at the same time.

Today, he storms ahead, but he waits by the elevator doors. His shoulders are near his ears, and it's obvious something has him riled up.

"When we get down there, stay by me. I don't need you lost in one of the tunnels," Eric announces, like I've never been down there before. "We have work to do today."

"Got it."

We take the elevator in silence. I stand perfectly still, knowing that if I do anything to rouse his attention, I'll be the recipient of one nasty glare. I badly want to ask him what's wrong, but I'm guessing it's none of my business. I focus on my drink and wonder if this has anything to do with Four.

I've heard rumors that initiation is a sore subject for Eric. I assumed he ranked highly, but he seems to loathe anything to do with it, especially when Four is involved.

Before I can decide, the elevator doors ding. Eric steps out first, and I follow him into the hallway. It's dark and cold down here, and it takes a second for my eyes to adjust. He slows his stride to something less like he's running to arrest someone and more like he's in no rush. Once we near the Pit, it's impossible to miss the noise coming from the initiates. Their roar of excitement echoes off the granite walls. I follow Eric as he observes them from a distance, then he turns to me, and closes any space between us.

"We'll be here ten minutes, tops. I'm introducing myself, then Max is giving a quick speech. One he's done, you're going to nod, and we're leaving. That's it." Eric tilts his head, then reaches for me. I nearly jump out of my skin when his fingers touch my neck, then he roughly fixes the collar of the jacket. Still unsatisfied, he frowns and yanks it into place again. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. It's just really cold here."

I tilt my head up to look at him, and his fingers still. They are warm beneath my hair, and he leaves them there as the cheering grows louder. Someone calls his name, and I slowly realize, Four is waiting for us. He throws Eric a dark stare when he notices him fixing my jacket, then clears this throat.

Eric is unbothered.

He slowly moves his hand away, and nods in the barest hint of acknowledgment ever. "Are they all accounted for?"

"All of them. There's nearly two hundred this time," Four answers tightly. He's looking at me, and his mouth turns downward. "Why does she have that on? Did you promote her?"

I look down at the jacket, and in my hurry, I've failed to notice it's a mirror replica of Eric's. In fact, it's a Leader's jacket. The blue stripe on my arm is bold, and the cut is different, more militant than the one Four has on.

"My assistant is none of your business, Four. We already went over this," Eric responds, coolly. "Return to your class so we can get this started."

"Fine." Four's eyes linger on the stripe on my arm, and his eyes narrow when I step closer to Eric. The action is unconscious, but I don't like the way he's staring at me. "Enjoy your day…Everly."

Four says my name meanly, and I know why.

Eric never says it.

He'll hiss Carlen if he's really impatient, but he usually prefers to bark the word Amity at me. I should be insulted over his refusal to call me by my actual name, but after months of hearing it, it sounds more personal than it does like an insult.

"Eric, over here!"

From a distance, Max gestures for Eric to join him. He waves when he sees me, and beside him, Tori smiles. They have the same jacket on that I do, but they have on the matching pants. Neither seem to care, and when the crowd becomes even louder, Eric moves.

He presses his palm to my lower back, then none too gently pushes me toward them. His words are lost in the roar of the initiates, and were I not right by him, I'd have missed them completely.

"Come on, Everly."

He says my real name, and it sounds like a threat.


His speech is short.

Eric curtly says his name and announces he's one of their Leaders. Most of the initiates gape at him, with wide eyes and slack jaws. A few fail to hide their stares when he walks by, and I fully admit he looks intense.

He towers over everyone, and his stare is clearly sizing them up. He doesn't smile, nor does he acknowledge anyone individually.

One girl gasps when he strolls to over to me, standing so close my arm is touching his. He bends his head down, and when he asks if I'm ready, I nod. He's so close I can smell his shampoo, and his fingers graze mine for a split second.

"They look terrified," I reassure him, though he doesn't need it. He knows he's scary, and if anything, this pleases him. "Do you mind if we stop and get another coffee on the way back? Mine melted."

"Of course."

Pleased with his new reign of terror, he turns, and this time, his hand cups my elbow as we head back into the hallway. He sneaks a quick peek at me out of the corner of his eye, and when I look up at him, he smiles.

It's quick and fleeting, but it's a secret between the two of us, especially when Max yells for him to come back, and he refuses.


A day after the initiates arrive, I receive my invitation.

The envelope is black, with the Dauntless logo on the front. I undo the ribbon around it, taking a second to appreciate the effort, but my stomach turns over when I see what's inside. The words are printed in an elegant gold font, and there's an additional card in it for me to fill out.

Your presence is requested to honor the first, cross factional marriage of Eric Coulter, Leader of Dauntless and Ashley Anderson, Head Research Assistant, on the 17th day, of September. Join us in uniting the Dauntless faction with the Erudite faction, celebrating this time of peace and unity.

Please RSVP at your earliest convenience.

This is a formal affair and is invitation only. Please refrain from bringing any additional guests unless noted. Your earliest correspondence will ensure seating, dinner, and dessert.

Those traveling to Dauntless will be welcomed and are invited to stay until the next morning, with accommodations available by request.

Included is a card to RSVP, giving me the option of bringing someone.

I idly wonder how many people have been invited. I flip the heavy card over, and on the back, is a handwritten note. The writing is just as elegant as the print, maybe even more so. I read it twice, blinking in disbelief, and it takes everything in me not to throw it in the trash.

It's from Ashley, informing me that my presence is not required, and the greatest gift I could give Eric is not to attend.


On Friday, Eric hands me another envelope.

I sit beside him, typing up the notes from the meeting we just attended, and I've completely forgotten today is six months of being his assistant. He waits patiently for me to open it, and his current mood is a pleasant change from earlier this week. He smirks when take a second to admire the way my name is written on it. The envelope is as thick and heavy as the wedding invitation, with the same official logo stamped on the top.

"Congratulations. You're the only one who has made it this far. Ever," Eric announces, and his eyes gleam. He reclines back in his chair, watching as I pull out the sheet of paper. "Nice work, Amity."

"Did you think I'd make it?" I smile at him, holding up the certificate with a sizable amount of points written on it. "Or was it hate at first sight?"

His jaw tenses.

My joke falls flat. Eric's sense of humor is much different than mine. He rarely cracks a smile, let alone an actual joke. He favors making biting remarks or rolling his eyes when he finds something amusing, and it only took me a few weeks to learn that he found everything to be very unfunny.

"I'm kidding, I –"

"I didn't think you'd have any issues. You've proven you can do the work, and that's all that matters," Eric cuts me off. He leans back further, and for a split second, his posture is unusually relaxed. "You've earned the bonus. Enjoy it. Do something nice for yourself."

"Thank you." I smile again, because praise from him is rare. "I think I'll go to a nice dinner at that place Rylan was talking about. He said it was great."

"What place?" Eric's tone turns suspicious. He sounds curious, but like he's pretending not to be. "The one on the third floor? Who are you going with?"

"I thought it might be nice. Maybe Karl will want to join me?" I look at Eric, searching his face for the reason he looks so bothered. He bites down on his jaw, like Karl's name is offensive. "What? Have you eaten there? Or is it Karl? He helped out last week and you seemed to approve."

"I don't give a shit about Karl," Eric answers, and his tone is curt. "You didn't answer me. Why do you want to eat there?"

"Why not?"

It's obvious we're talking about the same restaurant. It's new. Nicer than Clyde's, with actual napkins and a reservation only system. From what I've heard, it was quite the experience. It was more for when the other Leaders from the other factions came through, but there was a large group in Dauntless who liked fine dining. I try to remember what's it called, but since I've had no reason to go, all I can come up with is Not Clyde's.

"You really want to eat at Fleurs Hantees?" Eric says the name with disgust. "You know who owns it? Harrison. He thought it was hilarious when he named it. He said everyone who eats there is a moron for paying to eat at a haunted flower shop. He took it over when flowers in Dauntless didn't sell well."

"Is it good?" I ignore his pressing stare on my fingers, and when I look directly at him, he shrugs. "Who did you go there with? Jason? Is it really haunted?"

"I went with Ashley," Eric mutters. He doesn't look like he wants to admit this, because he exhales heavily. "She heard it was expensive. It didn't matter if it was good or not."

"Oh," I deflate, because of course he's gone with her. Of course, she wanted to go there, because it was pricey, and it had an exclusive feel to it. "Um, speaking of Ashley, I was going to ask you…"

I lose my nerve when he cocks his eyebrow, fully expecting some invasive question about his personal life.

"I got the invitation the other day. I know you're taking the week off after the wedding. I thought I could do the same. I'd like to visit my mom and dad in Amity, and since you'll be gone, maybe I can be gone, too." My words are quiet, but there really isn't any reason for him to deny my request. Even if he leaves me work to do, I won't get much done without him here to approve half of it. I'd just be submitting it to myself. "I'll come back on the same Monday."

"What's there to do in Amity?" He asks dryly. He doesn't answer my question, instead, he kicks his feet up on his desk and screws his eyes shut. "Besides chasing ducks."

"I'd be going to see my mom and dad," I remind him. I try not to sound amused, because he's pressing the heel of his palm into his eyes, like he's trying to ward off a headache. "Are you alright? Should I get Arlene?"

"Fuck no. Don't you dare call her." He jerks his hands away and throws me a sharp glare. "I'm fine. You can be off however long you'd like. If it doesn't look like I'll be back by Monday, I'll let you know."

"Oh."

For some reason, his words make my chest hurt. The thought of him being gone for a week, with his wife, is fine. I don't have any claim to his personal life, and he must enjoy Ashley enough to want to marry her. But knowing he might take more time to spend with her bugs me. I drop my stare to the paper, neatly signed by Eric and sloppily signed by Max.

It feels like a waste.

In another universe, I might have been brave enough to see if he wanted to celebrate with me. Or he would just tell me that we were going to celebrate, and I wouldn't have any choice in the matter. After all, I worked for him, and it felt like the two of us should be celebrating together.

But we aren't.

He's going to get married in a few weeks, and I will be dining in a haunted flower shop, by myself.

When I look back up, he's staring at me. His expression is unreadable, even more so when I stand up to pack my things.

"Are you okay if I take off early? I have to go get a new point card. Mine won't scan anymore," I ask. He tilts his head like he's about to snap at me to sit down, but instead, he nods. He gestures toward the door, and his sour mood comes right back.

"Go."

"Thanks. Have a good night, Eric."

He doesn't answer me.

He swings his feet down from his desk and returns to his computer. He begins typing something, and he ignores me as I grab the folders I need to go through, my bag, and my leftover coffee. He's silent until I reach the door, and only then does he speak.

He informs me I need to come in early tomorrow, and he'll meet me here at five.

I try not to groan, because this means there's a good chance he wants to go for a run, and he doesn't want to go alone. It also means if he does want to go running, he's going to make us run for miles, and if I'm lucky, he'll let us stop once or twice.

I quietly agree, knowing I have no other choice, but at least it beats filing his paperwork.


In a desperate attempt to remind myself that there is the potential for a whole new life here, I meet up with one of Karl's friends for dinner.

He wasn't in my initiation class, though I've seen him around. He's tall and handsome, with shaggy brown hair and big blue eyes. He's very polite. He pulls the chair out for me and waits until I sit, and tells me that he grew up in Erudite. I also learn his father was hoping he'd go on to become a surgeon in Erudite, but he had no interest in medicine.

Now, he's worked his way up to overseeing one of the newer patrols. It's an honor since he's young and still considered new here, but it's a great opportunity. While I skim the menu, he asks about me, staring when I look up in surprise.

"Me? You want to know what I do?"

"Yeah, where do you work? Karl said you have a great job," Michael smiles. He's not half bad to look at, and in comparison to Eric, he's about the same height. Not nearly as fit, but he could be intimidating if he kept working out. "He mentioned you work with the Leaders."

"I do! I'm Eric's assistant," I smile back, wondering if that sounds impressive at all. "It was tough when I started, but it's easier now. I schedule everything for him, do most of his paperwork, okay the things he doesn't have time for…"

"Oh, so my requests are going to you and not him?" Michael laughs. "I thought the signature was a little too girly to be Eric's."

"It's definitely not his," I try not to laugh, because half the time, he had me sign the forms for him. Every so often, he'd glance down at paperwork with his signature on it in total confusion. I knew it looked nothing like how he wrote it, and it made me crack up to think someone out there got a giant, loopy version of Eric Coulter's name on their security clearance requests. "He's pretty busy. So, if I know he's approved certain things before, I can approve them and get them processed. It's neat to see what he does."

"I bet."

Michael's interest is piqued, but it could be at the thought of someone having access to Eric that he doesn't. There is all kinds of paperwork that I've seen that I bet half the faction didn't know existed. Forms for vehicle requests, factions wanting security or a few soldiers willing to walk through them, numerous arguments between Abnegation and Amity over food deliveries. I've signed off on patrol routes to places I've never been, and fence details for soldiers who want a change of pace.

"So, you guys are close? You and Eric? Karl mentioned you spend a lot of time with him," Michael says carefully. "He said that's why you don't date anyone. Because you're always with Eric."

"He's getting married," I point out, but I don't know if Michael knows this. "We are close, but not like you think. I work when he works, so it's basically all the time. I don't think many people would want to put up with his schedule. Or his demands."

"Sounds intense," Michael winks, right as my phone beeps.

"Oh shoot." I glance down, apologizing for even bringing it. "Sorry, let me get this. I'm normally not working now, so this might be an emergency."

"No worries. I was told anything and everything can happen in Dauntless when it comes to Eric." Michael isn't at all bothered. He orders some onion rings from the waitress for us to share, then orders me a water to start. "Give her a second. She has to take a call."

"Sure. I'll be right back," Lucy eyes me warily, looking back at Michael a few times. She's seen me here with Eric before, and I would bet anything she's trying to figure out where she knows me from. "Give me five minutes."

"Perfect. The emergency should be over by then," he laughs, but I don't.

It's certainly not an emergency.

It's Eric, asking if I know where his boots are.

"Everly, are you okay? You look a little stressed," Michael asks. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No, it's okay. It's um…" I wrack my brain, trying to think of a way to make this sound official. "An issue with some factional resources that have gone missing."

Michael's eyes widen. "No shit."

"Yeah." I nod, and quickly tell Eric the new pair was delivered to his office, by Christian himself, and I'm not sure past that. His response is immediate. He insists they're not there, and that I signed off on them, so I need to find them. When I don't respond as fast as he'd like, Eric calls, and his name flashes across the screen.

"Can you give me a second? When Lucy comes back, will you order me a soda?" I slide out of the booth, throwing him an apologetic stare. "I just have to take this quick."

"Take your time!" Michael, clearly wooed by my high-profile security mission, is enthused. "I'll order for you if you're still on the phone. Just text me what you want."

"Thanks."

I hightail it to the entryway of Clyde's, where it's quiet enough for me to answer. "Eric?"

"I can't find them anywhere." Eric's greeting is tense, like I've personally hidden his boots. It feels strange to have him this upset, almost like the past six months never happened and we're back to day one. "I need them for tomorrow. Do you have any idea where they are?"

"No," I pause, glancing back at Michael. He's busy looking at the menu, and he only looks up when someone walks by. "They were on the chairs in front of your desk. Maybe someone moved them?"

"The only people in my office are you and me," Eric answers tightly. "I'm heading out with Rylan in the morning. I need –"

Oh fuck.

He keeps talking, his voice irritated and clearly unhappy, and my future in Dauntless hangs on by a single thread. I can see it now: he'll fire me for losing his shoes, blacklist me, and no one will hire me.

"I don't know why someone would move them. I don't even let the cleaning crew in here." Eric snarls, but it's not directed at me. I can tell by the thud of something on his desk that he's pissed off at something else, and the boots are pushing him over the edge. "Didn't you tell Christian to take them to my apartment. I thought –"

"You know what?" I interrupt him, figuring I'll find them before he will. "I'll come help you look. They have to be in your office somewhere. I'll be right there."

I step out of Clyde's, trying to estimate how long it'll take me to run to his office. Five minutes if I'm fast, six minutes if anyone stops me. Five or six minutes to look for his shoes. Five minutes back, and I could text Michael and ask him to order dinner for me, too, and possibly be back before it arrives. "I'm heading there now."

"Great."

Eric's answer is flat. I quickly tap out a text to Michael, telling him I'll be back in twenty minutes. I ask if he'll order for me, and he responds immediately. He's more than happy to wait, and he asks if I want anything in particular. I tell him no, then walk faster down a hallway. I make it to the elevators in no time, and the longest part of my trek to the office is the ride to one of the higher levels. By the time I reach Eric's office, my phone has gone off several times. It's Michael, and I quickly skim his messages, relieved when he says he just ordered, and there's no rush. His evening is wide open, and he's enjoying getting to know me.

"That makes one of us," I mumble, throwing the door open to Eric's office. He's still here, now busy rifling through papers on his desk. He's dressed casually, in a dark shirt and dark pants, and he has boots on. They aren't the ones he wanted, but I get his frustration. These had just arrived, after a week long delay from Christian's staff.

"Did you find them?" I ask, and he looks up slowly.

His stare starts at my face, then travels down to my dress. It's pretty. It was a splurge only after I started working for Eric. He stares at the floral print, the light color, and the pink tie, and his lip curls up in disgust.

"Where were you?" He asks, his tone even and slick. "Why are you dressed like that?"

"I was at dinner," I throw him a quick smile, and turn to the chairs. I don't see his boots anywhere, but maybe they got kicked aside. "I left to come help you, then I'm going back."

"At dinner with who?" He downplays his curiosity by glaring at me. "Did you go to Harrison's restaurant?"

"No, I went to Clyde's with Michael." The irony of choosing to join Michael for dinner to keep me from focusing on Eric only to wind up back in Eric's office isn't lost on me. "I told him to order for me and I'd be right back. He said he's fine waiting."

"How kind of him," Eric retorts. He slams the papers down and does absolutely nothing to help find his own shoes. "Are you really going back?"

"Yes, because I was right about to eat dinner." I feel like I'm talking in circles, and if this wasn't Eric, I'd imagine he's trying to interrupt my date. Relief washes over me when I see his boots shoved deep in the corner, crammed to the side of the filing cabinet. "Here, I found your boots."

"You did?" He sounds surprised. "Where?"

"Someone moved them." I kneel down to pull them out, and it looks like this was on purpose. "Did you put them here?"

"Yeah, I hid my own boots just so you could come back here." Eric rolls his eyes. He storms over to me, then frowns. "I most certainly did not put them there."

"Well, neither did I. In fact, I waited until Christian dropped them off, and I made sure they were on the chair." I stand up, holding the boots out for him. "Do you need anything else?"

He stares.

Eric's gaze is always razor sharp. He's always calculating what goes on around him, storing it away in case he needs to use it later. I've seen him break down soldiers by simply letting them self-destruct in front of him, and tonight is no exception. Anyone else would look away, but his change in attitude over the past few days tells me something is up.

"Eric?"

"What's Michael's last name?" Eric asks slickly. He pretends to look disinterested, but his piercing stare says otherwise. "Do I know him?"

I stare back.

Eric's hair is parted to the side, and the dark gauges in his ears look heavier than normal. The piercing above his eyebrow gleams in the light, and he looks like no one Ashley would marry. I understand the appeal, though; he's strong and powerful, and his rank here will give her a life that marrying a scientist in Erudite will not. He's not horrible looking, either. His defined jawline is enviable amongst everyone, and the high cheekbones and full lower lip don't hurt. His personality is his only drawback: his job here forces him to be unlikeable, in order to keep the soldiers in line.

I dare say he enjoys everyone being afraid of him.

"You might. He oversees a patrol squad," I finally admit, and it's a mistake. Eric's eyes darken, and I have a feeling Michael is in for the surprise of his life once Eric takes an interest in him. "He's done really well. He hasn't been here long, but he's leading a popular route."

"Oh, is he?" Eric's question is easy, almost friendly.

Which is how I know it's a trap.

"How did you meet him?" He asks, reaching out to take the boots. He's in front of me, so I'm trapped by the filing cabinet, but I'm not afraid. I'm more nervous that he's going to ruin Michael's life for daring to interfere with my ability to be at Eric's beck and call, and I should probably warn Michael when I get back. "Did you meet him at Clyde's?"

The interrogation takes an interesting turn.

Eric's fingers graze mine, and he refuses to move.

"I met him through Karl," I have to tilt my head to look up at him, and he smirks. "He's very nice. I really should get back."

"You should," he repeats. "Except we aren't done here. I need –"

"What the fuck are you doing? You said you'd be back at seven." The shrill voice that interrupts Eric is brave. I've never seen many people talk over him, and neither has he. He turns away slowly, and his gaze is lethal. "Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting?"

Ashley's pissed off expression only intensifies when she realizes I'm the one beside Eric. Her eyes narrow, and she sucks her lips like she's tasted something bitter.

"Why is she in here? Why are you with her?!"

In every other world, Ashley has the upper hand. Her dress is beautiful, neatly pressed and so fitted I'm not sure how she got it on. Her hair hangs in curled waves, and her shoes gleam. She's nearly as tall as Eric, and just as intense.

In Eric's office, she is out of place.

She's too rigid for the violence that hides in the walls, and too uptight for the chaos that his life brings. For a fleeting moment, I feel a speck of sympathy for her. She has no clue that his life does not adhere to any set schedule; he might have set office hours, but he leaves at a moment's notice. There are always new villains to fight, new security threats, or a crisis he needs to handle. Sometimes he is the villain, taking down factionless just looking for a way to survive, or hunting down someone who personally wronged him. He actively chooses his work, over and over, because it rewards him in ways he likes, and she will never understand how all encompassing it is.

He's in charge, and he will do everything in his power to stay that way.

Including ignore her.

"I called you. Three times," she grits out. Her jaw clenches in a familiar way, and for a split second, I think perhaps they do belong together. "You said, you'd be done –"

"I've told you before, I have a job to do here. One that doesn't involve you or your demands," Eric answers. He's not at all happy, and I wouldn't be, either. If she's coming here to think he sits around all night, she's wrong. "I told you I'd be there when I'm done."

"You could have answered," Ashley snaps, but her anger vanishes. I watch the exact moment when she realizes she's pissing him off, and he's not going to back down. "I didn't know you were busy with her."

Any sympathy for her I might have had is gone. I smile brightly and wiggle my way past Eric.

"Bye. Have a good night."

Eric makes an unhappy noise of protest, but I don't look back. If anything, I walk faster. I make it to the elevator in record time, and I punch the button for the lower levels. My text to Michael is quick –I'm on my way back and I'm so sorry! –but he's not at all mad. He tells me dinner will be there soon, and he's talking to Paul about some guy who got kicked out last week.

By the time I get there, I've forgotten all about Eric and his boots. I even forget about Ashley and her nasty stare, and I focus on Michael, and my dinner. I find him patiently waiting, and Lucy swings by with the dinners just as I sit down. My apology is waved off, and he's genuinely fine with it. He tells me that he understands, and to make tonight better, he won't ask me anything else about work.

I smile before I can stop myself.

The rest of the night is easy and fun. He doesn't bring up Eric, and neither do I.


I don't expect him to walk me home.

Michael walks casually, without an ounce of hurry. He tells me a few funny stories about his patrol squad, and he shakes his head when I reveal I applied to work one and was turned down.

"Well, if I would have known you were Everly, I would have taken you on." He grins, gently nudging my arm as we round the corner. "If you ever get tired of being in the office, call me. I'll hire you. There are some really easy routes that go through Amity. Sometimes, I stop to have tea with them if I have time. They're really nice people."

"Thank you. They are nice," I say, and his offer is very kind. He slows down when I do, and I stop by the door marked 4343. "This is me. Do you live far from here?"

"A few floors up," he answers. "It's a nice apartment. You should come see it sometime. It's pretty spacious, clean. I don't know, I might even say it's well decorated."

"Is it?"

It's probably not.

Eric's apartment is.

It's meticulously clean, with expensive furniture and absolutely nothing personal.

Anywhere.

"I really had fun tonight, Everly," Michael leans in. He bends his head down, and before I can register what's happening, his lips touch mine. It's brief and chaste, just as polite as he is. "Can we do this again? Maybe without the emergency?"

"Sure. Maybe next week?" I stare up at him, waiting for his face to resemble Eric's. I catch myself, because I've never once thought about kissing Eric. The idea is comical; I imagine it would be far more aggressive, and much less kind, and my head would probably be shoved against the filing cabinet. "I can text you when I know what days I'm off. I'll have Eric's schedule by then. I'll turn my phone off for the night."

"Sounds good. Thanks for joining me for dinner. Have a nice night." Michael steps away, grinning when he looks at me. "Bye, Everly."

Michael lingers just a second too long. His cheeks are red, like he can't believe he just kissed me, and it should give me butterflies. He's obviously happy with how tonight went, and I try to feel the same way. I wait for the rush of nerves, or the longing for Michael to stay so I don't spend the rest of my evening alone. He turns the corner and waves again, looking over the moon with happiness.

Unfortunately for me, the feeling never comes.


"I'll drive."

"Like hell you will."

Early in the morning, Rylan and Eric face off, dressed in identical uniforms. Both men are armed, both have the same blue stripe on their sleeves, and since they are the same height, they appear evenly matched.

That's where the similarities end; Eric's uniform is ironed and neatly buttoned all the way up, while Rylan's is unbuttoned to reveal a worn t-shirt. Eric's hair is neatly combed. His boots are shiny, and in his hand is a tablet. Rylan's boots are unlaced, but tied around the ankles, and his hair is loose. He has no tablet, but he does have coffee, and an insane amount of energy for it being five in the morning.

"I thought we were going for a run," I try to stifle my yawn, and lose miserably. "Why is everyone here?"

"Security breach," Rylan announces casually. He leans against the driver's side door of the massive truck, then surveys the area. "Some children went missing in Abnegation a few weeks ago. Being the considerate souls we are, we set up a few check points, and someone just blew right through one of them. Abnegation claims they saw nothing, so Max wants everyone there who might be able to intimidate Marcus into talking. That means me, Eric, Jason, Harrison and about a hundred patrol squads. Tori is staying behind to oversee things, along with Jeremy."

"I'll drive. Last time you drove, you nearly killed us all," Eric hisses. "Rylan –"

"Is driving. You and Everly can sit in the back with me. I need to talk to you anyway." Harrison interrupts Eric and strolls over to us. "We're also taking a few additional soldiers. Jason is up front with Rylan. You can switch on the way back."

"No thanks," Eric retorts. He shakes his head, but Harrison is undeterred. "I'd rather walk."

"Shut up and get in the truck. Have Everly sit in the middle. I brought donuts in case you're hungry." Harrison ignores Eric ignoring his orders, and the scene makes me smile.

I don't see Harrison all that often, but he always shows up at just the right moment. He isn't very fond of Ashley, so I like him even more. He seems to like me, and from what I gather, he is very selective in who he helps. As a tactical battle strategist, he commands a lot of respect, but as a Leader, he is less hands on.

"I'm not," Eric snaps. "Harrison, this better not be a waste of my time."

"It's not. I promise," Harrison chuckles, and his expression tells me it's exactly a waste of Eric's time. "Everly, do you want help getting in the truck? I don't know how you're going to climb up there in that."

"They're leggings. It's too hot for pants," I smile up at him, and he looks like he's trying not to laugh. "I probably have a better range of motion than anyone here."

"Whatever you say." Harrison waves me on.

I step onto the first rung of the ladder, then nearly fall off when Eric's hand grasps my waist. He pushes me upward, and I'm shoved into the truck while he mutters something about how he's enjoyed living in Dauntless and to say my goodbyes because Rylan is a horrible driver. Eric slides into the seat beside me, and Harrison barely has time to join us. Once the door shuts with a slam, Rylan gives everyone approximately two seconds before he takes off.

He hits a few things on the way out –some cones that were set up to mark off an area where the trucks are being worked on, a large rack of ammunition that spills everywhere, and a flag with the Dauntless logo.

"Okay, when you get to the gates, try not to take anyone out. I appreciate your enthusiasm, but you almost ran over Karl. So slow down." Harrison politely suggests. "Less gas, more braking."

"You got it." Rylan agrees, but he doesn't slow down.

If anything, he drives even faster.

We careen out of the docking bay, and right out of Dauntless.


"Here, here, and here. Was there any other sign of them?"

Eric touches the tablet where the checkpoints are noted, and the screen lights up. It's in my lap, and every so often, his arm bumps mine. His leg is pressed against mine, and when Rylan turns sharply to the right, he knocks into me with startling force.

"RYLAN!"

"Sorry. Didn't want to hit a skunk!" Rylan calls back over his shoulder. He grins in the rear-view mirror, then the truck thuds over something large. "I did mean to hit that tiger, though."

"Rylan, slow down before you wind up charged with vehicular manslaughter. If you go driving through Abnegation a hundred miles an hour, odds are, they won't talk." Harrison looks up from the tablet, and his voice doesn't hold the scolding tone one would think. "They aren't going to talk anyway, but it's better if we make a good first impression."

"Do they even care about first impressions? Isn't it selfish to judge someone?" Jason pipes up. He's drinking an even larger coffee than Rylan, and he tries to stop it from sloshing everywhere when Rylan turns to the left. I slam into Eric's side, hitting my head on his shoulder. "Okay, you know what? I'm siding with Eric. You, my brother in fearlessness, are a horrible driver."

"There was a wild boar in the road!"

"No, there wasn't," Eric roars, and even Harrison agrees.

"Wild boars are further out. They don't come this close to the factions."

"Are we almost there?" I try to steady myself, and the back of the truck feels awfully small. I glance at the tablet to see if I can tell how far away we are, and a message pops up. Ashley asks if Eric will be back soon, and before I can say anything, he swipes it away. "Are you planning on being in Abnegation all day?"

"For an hour or so," he swipes away another message, growing irritable when she asks for a third time why he isn't in his apartment. "Amity, message her back and tell her to stop asking where I am."

"Sure," I answer slowly. I type back his exact words, and I have the sinking feeling she's going to know it's not him answering. "She seems very eager to be around you all the time. Are you excited for…"

"Am I excited for what?" Eric blinks at me, his grey eyes flashing with annoyance, then they scrape over to Harrison. He's been quiet so far, despite having told Eric he needed to talk.

"The wedding?" I dare ask, and you'd have thought I was accusing him of something ridiculous.

Eric tilts his head, and his jaw clenches down. The muscle in his cheek is taut, and despite the fact that he appears close to murdering me, I'm still not afraid. He can't kill me in front of Harrison, nor does he have time. Thanks to Rylan's driving, we've arrived in Abnegation earlier than planned.

Before he can answer me, the GPS on the truck beeps, announcing our new arrival time, and Rylan crows that he's won. "Beat it! A new world record!"

"Yeah, great. I just spilled coffee all over my pants!" Jason scowls. "Rylan, where are you parking? We just passed the check point."

"At Marcus's house. He has one, right? Or is this place nothing but communal living?" Rylan drives faster down the narrow road, and the world of Abnegation comes into view. I've never been here before, so I'm surprised to see how bland everything is. "Did they get shafted on the paint color or what? This is worse than the last time I was here."

"When were you ever here?" Jason snorts. "You always trade so you don't have to come this way."

"Like five years ago," Rylan answers cheerfully. "Hey, Eric, are you okay back there? I'm also waiting to hear if you're excited for your wedding."

He winks at me in the mirror, and Eric presses his lips together so tightly they almost disappear.

There's a heavy moment of silence, then he finally mutters for Rylan to shut up, and not to park like an asshole.

"Harrison, did you get to talk to Eric? I couldn't hear," Rylan ignores Eric, and throws the truck in reverse. "You said you had something to talk to him about."

Harrison smiles. It's patient, but amused, and he looks over at me as Rylan parks the truck right outside Marcus' house. "Don't worry about me, kid. I got all the answers I needed."

"Well, I didn't."

Rylan turns off the truck, right as Marcus comes storming out of his house, and his jaw is slack. He doesn't smile, not even when Rylan waves, or the second, third, and fourth trucks show up.


An hour later, I stand beside Eric with my arms folded over my chest.

My posture is the mirror image of Eric's. He listens to Marcus speak with a look of disbelief on his face, and I'm sure mine is registering the same. We've been hearing his theory on why children seem to be disappearing from Abnegation, and I have a feeling every word coming out of his mouth is a lie.

"As you can see, we've done our best to ensure that the members of our faction are safe. I don't think your presence here will help. I think if anything, it will be a distraction to what's really going on. You can see why I'd prefer if you take down the checkpoints, and let me handle this." Marcus smiles dully. "We found several of the children last week. They merely went to see the river without telling anyone."

"They're still unaccounted for, according to our records." Eric answers. "We show seven missing children, all under the age of fifteen. Two families reached out asking for help, so I don't think we'll be removing anything."

"Can I ask what families requested your presence here?" Marcus rocks back on his heels, and it's hard to miss his flash of agitation. He hides it well, and a vaguely pleasant smile returns to his face. "I'd like to personally extend a hand in helping once I know who they are."

"The reports are confidential," Harrison narrows his eyes at him, looking bored. "When's your next council meeting? Do you have anything coming up?"

Marcus doesn't answer right away. He hesitates, mulling over how much to share. "In a few days. It has a full agenda, so –"

"So, add this to it. We'll be here to make sure you address any safety concerns," Eric announces. "We fully expect to hear how you plan on handling this, and what your plan of action is. Do you have resources for the families who are still missing children?"

"Some," Marcus says slowly. "I don't think the involvement of Dauntless is needed. Young children sometimes wander off. It's not uncommon for them to hide or play games. Many have not yet learned their place here, and those who are lost, will be found."

"They aren't all young kids. The last girl who went missing is fifteen," Rylan calls out. He's leaning against Marcus's house with his arms crossed, surveying the street. From the side, a few girls giggle when they see him, then duck inside when he smiles. "The other is fourteen. I don't know about you, but I wasn't playing hide and seek when I was fifteen."

"Well, you were. Just a different kind of hide and seek." Jason laughs. "I'll be here in a few days, and I can be here next week to help out. You're agreeing to cooperate in our investigation, correct?" He looks at Marcus expectantly, like he knows something is up. "Or do we need to go door to door?"

"Fine," Marcus relents. "I'll announce it at the meeting. But you understand my hesitation to involve another faction?"

"Oh, we understand it. We just don't agree with it," Eric barks. "I fully expect to see your agenda by the end of the day. We'll be back for the meeting."

"How would you like this delivered?" Marcus looks amused, until Rylan bounces over to him. "Are you going to hang around all day?"

"I am. I even packed a lunch," Rylan grins. He waves to the girls peering at him through the window, then moves to stand right next to Marcus. "I know you are very hospitable, so I thought you could show me around. Perhaps, introduce me to some of your fine citizens. I'd also like some water. I can stay for dinner, too. We'll solve this mystery, don't worry."

"Well…" Marcus looks trapped. It's a funny expression, one that reminds me of Eric when he can't get away from Max. "Uh, it would be…a pleasure to have you spend the day here. I'd love to give you a tour."

"Wonderful," Rylan rolls his eyes, and he catches my eye. He makes an exaggerated face behind Marcus's back, then yells for Eric to come back around seven to pick him up. "I'll call you if I need more time."

Marcus looks horrified.

"Great. Sounds like a plan," Eric nudges me to follow him, and the tablet dings again. "We'll be back whenever Rylan is done…here."

"It'll be a while," Rylan grins. "Eric, you can drive back."

"I plan on it. Come on, Amity." He takes off toward the truck, and our time in Abnegation comes to an end.

I take one final look around at the plain, square buildings, and the worried stares from some of the members. Everyone is dressed the same, void of any color, and the few who appear close to my age look downright envious when Eric's hand presses against my back. He leaves it there while we walk, and by the time we reach the truck, Jason and Harrison are arguing over whether or not Marcus will kill Rylan before dinner.

"Sit up front," Eric demands. "You can take the tablet and recap the meeting for Max."

"Sure."

I climb into the passenger side and slide over so I can shut the door. My phone beeps, and when I swipe to see who it is, it's from a number I don't recognize. Once I open it, I read the message a few times, struggling not to show Eric.

Ashley can't get ahold of him, and she blames me. She calls me every name in the book, then demands I have him call her right then and there.

I don't respond.

I move closer to Eric so I can take the tablet from him, and when he nods, I don't move back over. I sit next to him, listening while he explains all the reasons he thinks the kids from Abnegation are going missing, until we near the border of Dauntless. I type everything up neatly, then send it to Max, Eric, and myself.

His email alert goes off right as I send it, and I accidentally open up the message. It's from his mother, and the scathing tone is familiar. She hints that his impending marriage is more than just whatever he feels for Ashley, and he is fully expected to go through with it. Her reputation is at stake, as well as his father's.

The tone changes when his mother explains that his aunt is very pleased with how things are turning out, and she appreciates his help in providing allyship to Erudite. I freeze when I see my name, and I nearly drop the tablet when I read further.

After speaking with Ashley at length, for the sanctity of your marriage, it would be prudent to replace your assistant with someone closer to your own age. During my time treating members of the Amity faction, they often proved to be untrustworthy, and your own reputation may suffer from having Everly continue to work alongside you. I look forward to your resolution of this matter, sooner rather than later. If Dauntless is lacking a suitable replacement, I can send someone from my office until you find an age appropriate, male candidate.

Regards,

Blythe.

"You okay, Amity?"

Eric's words break my concentration. I look up guiltily, nodding a few times, and force a smile in his direction.

"I'm fine. Just…confused as to why Marcus doesn't care about the missing kids." I exit out of the tablet carefully, and my only hope is that Eric doesn't see the message since I've already opened it. "It doesn't sit right with me."

"Me, either."

He doesn't say anything else.

He parks the truck in the docking bay, and kills the engine. He sits for a second while Jason and Harrison climb out, and he waits for me to hand him his tablet. Our eyes meet, along with our fingers, and for that moment, everything is right.

Then he pulls away, and roughly informs me we have a meeting in an hour.