Hardwired Read Free Page A

his name, but he didn’t answer, didn’t even turn his head in my direction. At first I thought he was sleeping, but the minute I laid my hand on his shoulder, I knew.
    His head rolled to the side, the bottle of pills he’d swallowed falling to the ground next to a bottle of whisky. I tried to revive him, slamming my fist into his chest and literally forcing my own breath into his lungs, but he just lay there, his eyes rolled back in his head, his arms hanging limply by his sides.
    Tyler had survived their tests, proved that he wasn’t some psychopath on the verge of exploding, and for what? Only to kill himself when he got home? It was so pointless. In a way, that was my biggest fear: that I’d survive this place only to crack at home. But I wouldn’t let Ms. Tremblay know that.
    I swore that day I’d make amends for what they did to Tyler. I’d beat their tests and survive, prove them wrong. This place wouldn’t break me. For my brother’s sake, I wouldn’t let them.
    â€œLucas!” Ms. Tremblay’s words cut through my thoughts. “Did you hear anything I said?”
    â€œEvery word,” I lied. “But I didn’t hear anything that warranted an answer.”
    She huffed her disappointment and started walking down the hall. I followed her, well aware of the two guards flanking me. They were always there, crowding my space. I toyed with making a move just to screw with them but quickly decided against it. I hadn’t gotten this far along only to piss it all away for my own sick satisfaction.
    Ms. Tremblay stopped abruptly, her curt nod sending me to the wall where I lined up with the other guys from our wing.
    Chris appeared next to me a second later and I scanned his forehead, breathing a sigh of relief. It actually looked pretty good, with virtually no sign of injury from me slamming him into the wall last night. Thank God, the last thing I needed was to be on the hook for losing my temper on the only friend I had in this place.
    â€œThanks for the headache,” he whispered as we made our way toward the communal bathrooms.
    â€œSorry,” I mumbled. I’d managed to get a solid four hours of sleep, thanks to his earplugs, and had woken up feeling physically great but still guilty as hell. “I meant what I said—bottom bunk is yours for the next week.”
    â€œNope,” Chris said, shaking his head. “Not if it means you losing it.” He leaned closer, his voice so low that I could barely make out his words. “Besides, I made a new set of ear plugs last night after you went to sleep. What’s the point of having that magazine if you’re only going to hide it in your mattress and forget it’s even there?”
    I laughed. Chris was right. I hadn’t looked at that magazine since the day I’d smuggled it in. I’d brought it with me solely to annoy the guards when they went through my bag. Funny, it only pissed me off more when they laughed and handed it back to me with a warning not to let Ms. Tremblay find it.
    â€œWhat do you think they have planned for us today?” I asked, purposefully changing the subject.
    Chris shrugged his shoulders and let out a tired breath. “Beats me. Probably more head games designed to see which one of us is going to break first.”
    â€œWon’t be me,” I mumbled to myself. “It won’t be you either.”

Three
    The room we entered was larger than the testing rooms and lined with couches and overstuffed chairs. The floor was carpeted, not tiled, and the walls were painted a soft yellow, not the crusty old gray that seemed to cover every surface of the facility. Even the security guard posted inside the door was dressed in plain clothes, with a friendly looking name-tag that read Murphy . But his casual appearance didn’t fool me. Jeans and button-down shirt aside, he was armed.
    I sank down into one of the chairs and stretched out,