Hey Readers! Here is the next chapter I hope everyone enjoys it. Thank you to everyone who continues to read and comment. I don't own Divergent. All military-related mistakes are mine because research only gets me so far. :) Happy Reading!
Chapter 14 Wonderwall
The next thing I know, gentle fingers are brushing my cheek. My eyes fly open, and I jump away from the contact of the hand. My eyes meet Four's concerned ones. "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. But, do you have your ID with you? I need it to get us through the gate."
I glance around at the unknown surroundings, my breathing returning to normal. "Yeah. It's in my purse." I murmur, as I search through my purse for my ID, and hand it to him as quickly as I can. His fingers touch mine, and I pull my fingers away quickly, uncomfortable with his touch, only feeling Peter's hands on me. "Where are we?" I ask, staring out the window at the line of cars next to us and in front of us, impatient drivers tapping their fingers against their steering wheels.
"Travis Air Force Base. I told you, you were coming with me, to the base to stay with me, in my on-base housing. You will be safe here until Peter is caught by the Police and arrested."
"You sound so sure that Peter will be caught, and I will be safe here," I say, as a shiver runs up my spine.
"Peter won't be able to get you here. I'll make sure of it." Four says, his voice sounding strong and sure.
"Four, I can't stay with you here, hiding on a military base. I have no clothes. I have work. A job that I love. I barely even know you." I say, trying to get through to him about how crazy this idea is, that he came up with.
"Where else are you going to go, Tris? I'm not going to drop you off at a shelter, you can forget that." I don't answer him. He continues, "We went back to your place, and I packed a bag for you while you were sleeping." I blush at the thought of Four having seen my bras and panties. "Anyways, the doctor told you to take at least a few weeks off. You can barely breathe without being in pain. How are you suppose to care for critically ill patients?" He asks, quipping his eyebrow at me.
"Fine you win, but I still hardly know you!" I sigh as I look out the window, feeling trapped.
"You know a lot about me, more than the normal person does." He smirks, as we drive under a gray archway that reads Welcome To Travis Air Force Base: Gateway To The Air Force. Tobias sits in another line tapping his fingers on the wheel nervously. "This is the worse part to get into this base. Once, we are on the base, make sure you keep your ID on you, at all times if you go out for a walk, and I'm not with you. They do routine security checks due to different things happening in the world right now."
One of the soldiers at the gate looks thoroughly bored with his job when Four hands him my driver licenses and his military ID. He lazily looks at me, giving me a look of concern, then looks at my ID, then flips to Four's ID. His face drains of color, he stands straight, and salutes Four, saying while handing back our cards, "Captain Eaton, here you go, sir. I didn't recognize you in regular clothes. Have a good day."
Tobias returns the salute as he says, "Thank you. Have a good day as well Airman Jonas." He grabs the IDs, then rolls up his window, driving away.
"Is it always like that around here?"
"What way?" He asks, glancing at me from the corner of his eye questioningly.
"All the saluting, standing straight like being struck with a lightning rod, and calling you Captain Eaton? That guy looked like he was ready to cry when he saw you. And I'm not talking about tears of joy either." I say, as I attempt to suppress a giggle, that is threatening to rise in my throat.
"He may have been." Tobias smiles at me.
"Do I have to call you Captain Eaton too?" I ask, wondering if I can't call him Four in public anymore.
Four turns to me, coming close to me, as he says with a raised eyebrow, "If you call me Captain Eaton, Tris, I may just have to find out where you are ticklish." I feel my face fall, then turn red as I ask, "Are you flirting with me?"
"I don't flirt, and if I did, it wouldn't be with threatening to tickle you, if you called me Captain Eaton because that isn't a threat. That is a promise." He shoots me a panty-dropping smile.
I laugh lightly trying to ease the tension between us. The laughter causes my ribs to start to hurt, making me grimace from the pain. Four rolls his eyes at me as we pull up to a complex of five different houses that are all painted white with gray shutters. They look like condos to me from the outside. Four quietly says to me, "I always kept this place, because I never knew where Stacy and I stood. She and I were always breaking up. I can't believe I was thinking about giving this place up to move in with a cheater, full-time. I can't believe, I almost asked her to marry me. I had a ring brought and everything because I had been with her for so long that everyone was expecting us to get married. I should have known better. I should have seen the signs." I reach my hand over to him, wanting to comfort him, wanting to pull him out of his ugly thoughts. He takes my hand, intertwining our fingers without even realizing it. "Anyways, I have one pair of neighbors that I am close to, Stephen and Mark. They have a daughter, Mattie, who is adorable. I was stationed with Mark, on my last tour. I never did probably thank you for all those boxes you sent me. They meant a lot to me."
"It was nothing," I mumble.
"They meant everything to me." He whispers as he glances at me continuing, "Anyways, I'm sure you will meet Stephen and Mattie, at some point, during your time here. Mattie normally comes over to visit me. She has a crush on me. Her cheeks turn as red as her hair is, when she sees me, she talks a mile a minute, then runs back home because she isn't supposed to be coming over without Stephen. She makes me want to have one of my own. She made me put up a swing on the porch so that way I could swing with her."
"She sounds cute," I say, picturing a little girl swinging with Four.
"Oh, she is. Anyways, you ready to go check out your new home?"
"As ready as I will ever be," I say. There are five steps that lead to a front porch, with a swing attached to the ceiling, just like Four said there was. Four unlocks the door, pushing the door open, he motions for me to enter first. The first thing that I notice, is how plain the walls look. The walls are beige with rose beige carpeting, and beige colored curtains. The house is in some serious need of color. The furniture is sleek, modern, and comfortable looking. There is a black leather couch that could fit four to five people on it. Then a small table that is holding a large sixty-inch flat screen tv. Next to the couch is a love seat that is also leather, both the love seat and the couch form a ninety-degree angle in the room, around a small coffee table. On the coffee table, sits a book left open to a page. There are a few lamps sitting on end tables. The thing that strikes me about Four's house though, there aren't any pictures of people hanging up, no pictures of his loved one. The only picture hanging on the wall is a framed quotation from an unknown person. It reads: Fear God Alone. Mmm, what a weird quote. It is right by the door at eye level for him to see as he is walking out, it must mean something to him. "What does this mean to you?" I ask over my shoulder. I can feel him behind me, watching my every move as I take in his house.
"Nothing. It's just something that I try to live by. Listen, I need to go to the Commissary. There is no food in here. Do you want anything specific to eat?" He asks as his breath tickles my neck as he talks, my mind starts to spin, thinking about the kisses that we shared in his apartment. He still hasn't brought it up, and I'm not going to. I wonder if he was too drunk to remember it.
"Huh?" I ask as I turn my head, our breaths mingling together, he is close enough that if either of us moved just a few more inches our lips would be touching. I should be uncomfortable with how close he is standing to me after everything I have been through today, but for some reason, I'm not with Four. I feel safe. I feel like he won't ever hurt me.
"Do you want anything specific for food?" He pulls away from me, putting a respectable distance between us, my head begins to clear again, now that I have some distance between us, as I ask "What's a commissary?" I have no idea what he is talking about.
"Sorry for you, it is like the grocery store, but there are other stores too. It is kind of like a huge mall."
"Oh, no. Whatever you want to get for food is good."
"You going to be okay here alone, or do you want to come with me?" He asks, looking at me like I am going to run away.
"No, I think I'll stay here," I say, smiling at him, as he shuts the door and locks it. I walk down the hall finding a very small kitchen with tiny white countertops and wooden cabinets. The floor is white plastic. In the kitchen, there is a sliding glass door. I peak out it, to find a very small backyard with a picnic table. I walk back up the hallway, to find a bedroom with a full-sized bed that is made with tight corners. There is a black and white comforter set on the bed. There is one nightstand with a lamp on it. Off of the bedroom, there is a bathroom, decorated in light gray.
In the bathroom, I see my reflection for the first time, I look like I was put into a boxing ring, and I look like I lost. My lip is split and swollen. I have black and blue marks everywhere that my shirt doesn't cover. I feel ugly. Peter made me ugly. Now I really am damaged goods. Tears rush to my eyes as I take in the fingerprints around my throat. He could have killed me. He held a gun to my head. Why didn't he do it? I crumple down to the floor, pulling my knees to my chest. I give myself two minutes to feel sorry for myself then I am done. After those two minutes, I decide I need to move on, and begin to rebuild my life, Peter free. Whatever that kind of life looks like.
I push myself off the floor, gathering my strength, and wander into Four's closet. On one side, there are regular clothing hanging with shoes sitting on the floor, and on the other side, it looks like a completely different person is associated with that living space. The top shelf has three pairs of boots and two different sets of sneakers. Under the shelf of shoes are a whole bunch of uniforms. He has ten different jackets, pants that are neatly placed on hangers, his shirts, that he wears under his uniforms. Then, he has exercise gear next to it all. He has three different pullover sweaters, long sleeve shirts, short sleeve shirts. Then, there are uniforms that I have no idea what they are for. I didn't even know there were so many pieces to one uniform!
At the very end by the wall, there are two dress bags that catch my eyes. My curiosity gets the better of me, and I look in them. Inside, I find Four's dress blues. The color of the uniform matches his eyes. I wonder what he looks like wearing one of these. There are two to three duffle bags laying on the ground that catch my attention, as I am placing his dress uniforms back onto the rack, I hear behind me "There you are. Did you find anything interesting?" My cheeks heat at being caught in his closet looking around. I didn't even hear him come back.
"Yeah, what are these for?" I ask, my fingers running along the cool fabric of a dark green jumpsuit.
"That is my flight duty uniform."
"How about this one?" I ask, pointing to a tan jumpsuit.
"Desert flight. For deployments."
"What about this one? Did you just like the leather jacket." I ask, smirking at him.
"It's another flight uniform."
"How about this?" I ask, pulling out a sage green fleece.
"Okay, Tris. I think, that is enough show and tell." I pout at him, as he says "Fine, but this is the last one. It's for cold weather.
"Wait, one more question, why do you have two sets of dress blues?" I ask my face heating, imagining him in them again.
"Both are for mess dress, but they are used for different occasions."
"Huh. Speak English for me."
"Sorry, mess dress is used for formal dress. It has a different coat and a tie mainly, that is what separates the two. That one," He points to the bag closest to the wall, " is my more formal one, the other one is for semi-formal. Now come with me." He grips my hand gently, pulling me out of the closet.
"Wait!" I say, seeing a guitar hiding in the corner of the closet. "Do you play?" I ask, motioning to the guitar.
He shrugs saying, "Kind of, I'm not really that good. It's more something for me to mess around on now. I was more serious about it in high school. Do you?"
I smile as I shake my head no. "Here sit on the bed, and I will show you." Four grabs his guitar, placing it on my lap, then sits behind me. His hands hover over my hips as he asks, "Is it okay for me to touch you to show you how to play?"
"Yeah," I answer as he places his hands on my hips, pulling me back into his chest, then places his hands over mine. "What song do you want to learn to play?" He asks. His breath on my neck making me shiver.
"I don't know. Pick an easy one."
"Do you have a favorite song?"
"No," I say.
"Everyone has a favorite song. What's yours, Tris?"
"Don't laugh."
"I won't. I promise."
"Wonderwall by Oasis." Four grins at me as he says "I always wondered what a Wonderwall was."
"Me too," I say, as he shows me which strings to touch first using his fingers. He plays the guitar well for someone who says it is just something that they mess around on. His fingers against mine are soft, unlike the rough hands of Peter. After several minutes, I turn towards him, loving the feel of his hands on mine, his breath tickling my neck, and wish he would kiss me again. I know he won't though. He hums as he teaches me the song, his humming bringing me a sense of peace. My guitar playing is awful. He places the guitar down next to us and stares at me. Dark blue eyes meeting light blue. He and I both lean forward until our foreheads touch. I feel that same electric zap like I did in the airport, our breaths mingle together. He gently moves my hair from my eyes, leaving his hand resting on neck lightly. My eyes want to close from the exhaustion of the day. He whispers, "We should eat dinner. It will be getting cold."
He slides from around me, grabs my hand, and leads me out of the bedroom. Once we reach the living room, he motions to the coffee table that has tacos on it. His book is now closed, that is when I see he is reading "Divergent." I start to comment but decide against the idea. I moan as I bite into the delicious shell of my taco instead, savoring the juicy flavors of the chicken. Four eyes me as he turns the tv on, then hands me the remote, telling me to choose something. I watch animal planet, watching these guys build crazy fish tanks out of weird things.
When night rolls around, Four tells me to take the bed, and he will take the couch. I fall into Four's bed feeling awkward. The bed smells like him, like metal, soap, and something distinctly Four. It makes me feel secure. My eyes close, and I try to sleep. I dream about Peter though. About Peter's hands around my throat, about his gun to my head, and how he hit me over and over until the pain became too much. I wake, screaming with sweat rolling off my body.
Four rushes into the room, "What's the matter?" He asks urgently as he sits on the side of the bed, his fingers brushing my hair. Tears flow from my eyes, unable to answer him. Four pulls me to him gently as he says, "Shh, you are safe. No one will hurt you here. I won't let them."
After my crying has stopped, he lays me back on the bed, using his thumb, he wipes away the remaining tears. He rubs my head gently, kisses my forehead, saying "Sleep Tris." He goes to get up, and I grab ahold of his hand saying with panic lacing my voice "Don't leave me, please!"
"Tris." He starts to say, but stops, when he sees the look in my eyes, and says "Fine, let me get my pillow and blanket from the couch. I'll take the floor."
He holds my hand from the floor saying "Sleep Tris, I will fight off the bad dreams."
"And how will you fight off my bad dreams?" I ask, starting to feel my eyes get heavy as he holds my hand.
"I will fight the bad dreams off with my bare hands," He says lightly, squeezing my fingers more tightly, as he continues to hold my hand until I fall asleep. I don't dream the rest of the night. An alarm blasts through the peaceful quiet. I groggily look at the alarm clock to see it reading four twenty in the morning. "You're kidding me, right?" I ask sarcastically.
"Wish I was, Princess," He says shooting up from off the floor, into the closet, then into the bathroom.
Not even ten minutes later, he is out in a white long sleeve shirt that is tucked into his blue running shorts that have one diagonal white strip on each leg. On the left short leg and the left chest, there is the Air Force symbol, and he is wearing white socks with red running sneakers. His fingers brush my cheek gently as he whispers into my ear "Tris, don't you want to come running with me and the rest of the guys?"
"Go to hell," I mutter into the pillow.
He laughs as he leaves the room. "I'll see you later."
I groan thinking, what have I gotten myself into?
What did you think? What do you think Tris has gotten herself into? Please review and let me know. Next chapter will be up on the weekend of November 24. It may be earlier that week, but I am making no promises. If I don't post earlier, I want to wish all my American readers a Happy Thanksgiving!