Free Ordinary (Anything But) by Lindy Zart Page A

to pace herself, but it wasn’t easy. The only thing that kept her from shoving it all into her mouth at once was the chance of choking.
    She looked down at the empty tray in misery. It was gone and she was still hungry. “Did you bring me more food? After…after I threw my tray?” The lie had an unpleasant taste to it and Honor had a hard time swallowing. She would never do something so childish. Honor might try to beat someone up, break someone’s nose even, but she wouldn’t revert to throwing food like a baby. It chafed that Ryder had said such a thing to others about her.
    Nealon lifted his eyebrows. “I didn’t, no. Just like you threw your tray. Follow me, please.” He briskly walked from the room, leaving a confused Honor behind him. Did he just admit he had brought her more food and that he knew she hadn’t thrown it in the first place? She wasn’t sure. Maybe Nealon wasn’t so bad, but that was probably stretching it.
     
     
 

CHAPTER 4
     
     
     
    “What is this place?” Honor asked in a hushed tone as they walked down a set of stairs and into an open room with windows along the walls and a door next to each window. They looked like rooms.
    The walls of the open area were white cement, the floors gray cement, like the upper level of the building. It was cold down there and the fluorescent light bulbs stung Honor’s sensitive eyes. Every time she glanced up she saw spots. The generic black flip flops she’d been given slapped against the floor with each step she took. In the dark corners shadows shifted and shapes took forms. They were people, guarding whatever was in the rooms. She caught a flash of something shiny and knew they wore guns. Honor saw at least four cameras monitoring them and the surroundings, but she was sure there were more. It filled her with apprehension. What was so dangerous in those rooms that guards with guns were necessary?
    Nealon stared through a window to the left of her. “I could tell you everything, but it’s better to show you.” He glanced at her. “You’re not one for taking someone’s word for it, I’ve deduced.”
    Honor fidgeted. Yes, she was paranoid. She couldn’t help it.
    “That’s a good thing ,” he added. She glanced up. “In these circumstances, people like you tend to live longer.”
    Honor did not like those words. They made her think of her father. He hadn’t lived long enough. Jeremy Rochester had not been a naive man, but maybe he had trusted more than he should have. Still, that had nothing to do with why he’d died. Since his death she’d come to accept that every time she or her mother or her sister went somewhere, there was a chance it would be the last time they saw each other. She fisted her hands. Honor hadn’t ever wanted to be the one to cause them grief and inadvertently she had.
    She blinked. “Wait. In these circumstances? What do you mean by that?”
    “Come take a look.” He motioned her forward.
    Honor slowly walked over to the window he was closest to. It was the one he’d been staring at when they’d first arrived. She inhaled sharply at the sight that met her eyes. She pressed closer, her hands against the cool glass. It was Christian. The glare of lights was striking on him with his white clothes. He seemed to glow, to flicker with the gray fuzzies she saw when she stared too long at a light or the sun. Honor blinked and shook her head. It was too bright in there. Christian’s hair was damp, his head was turned away. Even with the distance between them she saw his body trembling. She wanted to go to him, to comfort him somehow. The urge was strong, dizzying. He was all alone. He had no one to let him know he wasn’t completely by himself. Christian lay on a metal table bolted to the floor, only a light cushion under him. There was nothing in the room, nothing at all besides the table and thin mattress Christian lay on. At least he was no longer tied down. It was a positive out of a million