away.
He holds his hands up between us in a gesture of surrender but looks confused. “Don’t you love the feel of that energy?”
Yes. Way too much. “No!” And I widen my eyes at him and then at the back of Samson’s head because this isn’t a conversation we should be having in front of him.
“Sorry. I thought it would help.” Ocean looks wounded, which really isn’t fair.
“Well, it doesn’t,” I whisper just as I see Samson smirk in front of us.
Whatever. I cross my arms again and stare off the opposite s ide of the boat as Ocean.
And the several hours of sailboat ride only takes about twenty minutes. It just feels incredibly longer.
I don’t even have time to open my mouth before Mom speaks.
“There’s someone you two need to talk to,” she says as she opens the door of our large warehouse. Well. It looks like a second, smaller home on the property, but houses all sorts of extra equipment as well as our gym that we use for sparring and rooms for occasional lockdown.
We move through the larger area into the lockdown corner. I’ve only been here once, and it was years ago. Dad locks eyes with us, and opens a door to an interrogation room. I wasn’t aware we had anyone in detention here, though I’m not sure if I remember the last time someone was held here, so I guess I don’t always know.
Samson wags his brows as he holds open the door.
“He almost convinced us to let him go,” Samson says. “Even me.” He sighs. “Several times.” It’s not easy for Samson to admit this, but at the same time, he’s a bit in awe of Mr. Prince’s talent so I’m not surprised.
I am surprised that Mr. Prince is in detention. I obviously knew there was a mess with his daughter, Addison, but I didn’t know he was involved to the extent that we’d need to keep him here. My heart hammers at the thought of someone so entrenched in our organization, pushing to the point they need to be detained. I know there have been a few messes, but they’ve all been so far from home that whatever needed to be done, was taken care of out of country and not in our yard.
“I’m not completely without skills.” Mr. Prince rolls up his sleeves, still perfectly pressed after who knows how long here. Three weeks ago I think was the mess in the Carolinas, so he must have been brought in then. Still the whole idea of the way he turned against us... He must have helped her get to Landon or slowed us down purposefully. Or both.
“How are you so strong again?” I wonder out loud.
He shakes his head. “Addison, of course. My talent never left completely, even though it’s what I’m sure the leaders would have preferred.”
Addison. Of course. Once her talent became more developed, it fueled his. It’s a thought I had when I was sorting in the classroom earlier, but now that I’m in his presence, I wonde r if he’s now off my scale.
Also. Mr. Prince’s talent has made him a lot of money personally, so I hate that he’s acting all like The Middle Men have somehow crippled him by asking him to work alone in the world. Some of us have to make that sacrifice for the greater good.
Samson steps outside the room giving me the signal that he’ll be right outside.
“We’re alone?” Mr. Prince asks looking between Ocean and I.
I nod. Trying to keep my cool because this is someone we’ve all revered and listened to and looked up to for so long. Now he’s in detention and I’m supposed to toughen up and get information.
“And we’re not being recorded?”
I slide open my watch to show him that nothing’s really on, that we’re not being recorded. I’m trying to take the more relaxed approach that I think Ocean would take.
Ocean does the same, and gives me the slightest of smiles. Which makes me wish a little bit that I didn’t think this was the right way to do this because him thinking he’s right is just going to add to his smug attitude. At least I can say I’m trying to get along.
Mr. Prince