The three of them, Brandon, Silas and Regan seemed to attract violence. The latter less than the two former, as far as Bea could tell, but they were still none of them pacifists. As far as she could tell. It served them well though, to have men around who could handle themselves. “And no plans to make that a competition, right?” she asked. She could still remember some of the aftermath of Stone and Silas getting into it during the fall. Although she noticed the change in demeanor, however brief it was, she didn’t say anything. If Brandon had a problem wit Ty it wasn’t her problem. Not yet. “He’s the big brother that I never knew I needed,” she explained. “I was a fucking scared twenty-something when I ran into him. I hid it well under attitude and ‘don’t fuck with me’ looks, but he’s had my back since day one.” Even if they fought like fucking cats and dogs sometimes, Ty had kept her safe. “Yeah, no one’s strong enough to do that long term.” For short periods maybe, but not for longer than that. People ended up zombie food that way.
“Maybe,” she shrugged. “I ran out on her soon as I hit eighteen though.” Why the fuck was she telling him that? She didn’t need someone pitying her for her fucked up life choices. She did want to watch out for Vienna, she just didn’t know how. Not anymore. Vienna had proven she could take care of her self. At the mention of Thomas, though not by name, Bea sobered a little. “I don’t know loss like that. Fuck, she’d better off talking to Leah or Rae, or someone who’s actually lost someone like that. All I do is put my fucking foot in my mouth around her. No one needs a sister like that.” She didn’t want him feeling sorry for her. She didn’t feel sorry for herself, she was just being honest.
She laughed. “Complicated for the rest of you. Rae and I have it down,” she corrected with a smile, not large, but nothing to be mistaken as a smirk. “Maybe it’s our sneaky way of keeping you guys from losing our records.”
Telling things about people from their choice of booze. That was something she’d never bothered to do before. “Is that so?” she asked rhetorically. “You think I fit the profile of a vodka drinker, officer?” Why had she added that at the end? She didn’t know what she was doing. “Are you going to tell me you can tell a persons quirks by their choice of cigarettes next?”
Alghren. Right. Brandon nodded. "Yeah, okay. I don't know what she likes, though." He raked his fingers through his hair and breathed a slow breath of fresh air when they got out of the door. "Fresh air definitely feels good," he mused.
That wouldn’t be a problem. Bea knew, or at least had a ballpark idea, of what Rae would like. She wasn’t worried. “Fuck yeah,” she replied. “That ward has to be fucking oppressive sometimes.” She didn’t know how Brandon had managed to be in there that long honestly. But then she didn’t have the same attachment to the people in the infirmary. Or she didn’t feel like she needed to be there. She wasn’t really sure which one it really was.
She nodded. “Fingers fucking crossed.” Maybe the scientists would be able to figure out what had brought on the special abilities that seemed to be cropping up, and maybe they would be able to reverse the effects of them. Was that selfish of her to think? Maybe. But in the long run there had to be a price for being super-powered. “Getting sick of being one of the odd ones out,” she muttered under her breath to herself, but probably not quiet enough to be missed.