by Dylan Steel
She nodded.
Everett crossed his arms. His jaw tightened as he accidentally put his full weight on his left leg, then relaxed as he shifted right back. “At least they’ll be over soon.” He glanced away, his cheeks reddening. “And you don’t have to feel bad about us not… I mean… We’ve already lost most of our Chances. We don’t really have much left to lose now, so we, uh…”
“Mmm.” She barely heard him. Her head was swimming. All she seemed able to think about was how incredibly, perfectly built the guy standing in front of her was. And he was especially cute when he was nervous.
His bicep flexed under her gaze. She looked up, startled. Everett was looking back at her, stormy indecision warring behind his deep brown eyes. His gorgeous eyes. How had she never realized how gorgeous his eyes were? She was quite certain she was about to lose herself in them.
Her stomach fluttered in agreement. She wet her lips, not really caring about the strange look he was giving her at that moment.
“Are you listening?” he asked hesitantly, observing her cautiously.
“Mmhmm,” she murmured dreamily, unable to take her eyes off him, letting them wander blissfully over his body.
He frowned. “So you’re not going to disagree with me on this?”
“What?” She blinked, locking eyes with him again, reason flooding back in. He’d said something else, but for the life of her, she had no idea what it was. What was happening?
“I’m going back to work tomorrow,” he said slowly. “I might not be able to do as much, but I think it’s less risky this way.”
“You’re probably right,” she said distractedly, her eyes once again roaming over the rigid outlines of his muscles. “Wait. What?” Her gaze flicked back to his eyes as what he’d just said sank in. “It’s still a risk though.”
“It’s not going to get less risky for awhile. My Chances won’t increase for almost eight months.” He shrugged. “I don’t really have any other choice. There’s just not much point in putting off the inevitable,” he said in a resigned tone, then added more hopefully, “Living, remember?”
Sage fell silent as she thought about what he’d said. Whether he hid out for awhile longer or went back to work—either way, he was risking his life. Either way, she could lose him.
The idea turned her stomach. It couldn’t happen.
He’d put himself between her and danger the other night, and the cost was high. The payment was coming due now, and it was tearing her apart. He may not have been her first choice, but that didn’t matter now. He was her pair, and she wasn’t about to let him go.
Her eyes lingered on Everett’s face, taking in the adorable downward curve of his lips and the strong angle of his jaw. He was still frowning at her, but she barely noticed. She was ecstatic, consumed with a new thought—a way to keep him safe.
The solution was so easy, so natural, so right—she couldn’t remember why she’d ever fought it. Every nerve ending in her body tingled with excitement at the idea.
“There’s another option,” she said hastily. Her heart drummed impatiently in her ears. She looked down, tracing the rim of her bowl with her finger. “We could… uh…”
“Yeah?” he asked, setting his cup down as his brow knit together seriously.
Her fingers tightened around the bowl. She blew out a slow breath and set it down on the counter, turning back to him.
He’d been a total gentleman, never pushing her before—even at the price of his own life—but she was ready now. This was her chance to save them both.
Raising her eyes to his, she rested the tips of her fingers on his wrists, slowly dragging them up his arms. She looped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her level.
“There’s another way to give us both Chances,” she murmured. Electricity buzzed under her skin as they stood nose to nose, their breath warming one another.
“Sage,” he said breathlessly, searching her eyes, “are you sure you—”
She covered his mouth with hers, stopping the question before he could finish. A low moan escaped as he slid his hands down her back, digging his fingers into her waist as he pulled her closer.
Pulling back, she whispered against his lips, “I don’t want to lose you.”
Fierce desire blazed behind his eyes, crowding out any argument he might have had. “You won’t.”
He leaned forward, brushing his lips against hers again, gently at first, then more firmly, unleashing more passion than she’d realized he held. She returned his advances with equal fervor, pressing herself closer until she wasn’t sure where she stopped and he began.
In that moment, she was quite sure that nothing had ever felt so perfect.
19. AVOIDANCE
Sage’s eyes fluttered open sleepily. A feeling of utter contentment enveloped her as she blinked lazily, letting the hazy shape in front of her come into view, slowly trying to clear the cobwebs from her waking mind.
Like so many other recent mornings, Everett was in front of her, still sleeping soundly. He inhaled deeply, and the sheets slipped down a little around his shoulders, revealing a teasing amount of his sculpted bare chest. The slight movement sent eager butterflies into flight in her stomach as she remembered the previous night.
She stretched out her fingers to touch him, then stopped herself, pulling her hand back. A torrent of emotions flooded through her, assaulting her without warning. Her eyes widened as she realized exactly what she’d done—what they’d done.
Licking her lips nervously, she slid out from under the covers carefully, trying not to wake him up. Heart pounding in her chest, she tiptoed to the bathroom and closed the door behind her.
With her hands still holding the door closed behind her, Sage leaned her head back and sucked in a shaky breath. She wasn’t dreaming. It had really happened. They’d actually… paired.
Her stomach lurched unpleasantly. Conflicting feelings warred inside her. She’d wanted this. She’d wanted him.
So why did she feel almost guilty for what she’d done?
It had been her decision, hadn’t it? He hadn’t pushed her at all. Her feelings for Everett had been growing stronger. But she didn’t think she’d just done it to save them. She’d actually wanted this.
Why did she feel like this? Like someone had punched her in the stomach and grabbed something inside her and twisted as hard as they could?
She squeezed her eyes shut, picturing Everett’s face. That familiar, pleasant fluttering returned inside her, mingling strangely with the uncertainty that she’d felt a moment earlier.
Her eyes slammed open again, and she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Warring emotions created a dark storm in her green eyes. She needed time to sort out exactly what she was feeling—if she’d made a huge mistake or if she’d just embraced the best part of herself.
But she couldn’t do that here. Not with Everett in the next room.
Fresh tears welled up in her eyes as she dug her fingers into her palms. If Penelope was still alive, she’d just hide out at her apartment and talk it through—crash overnight if she needed to. But that obviously wasn’t an option.
Biting her lip, Sage choked back the new flood that threatened to break her. She couldn’t do this right now. Not here. Everett would wake soon, and if she was still here, she’d be forced to deal with everything that had just happened. She wasn’t ready to do that.
Her shoulders slumped, but then she straightened as an idea surfaced. There was a way to avoid him while getting her head together. It wasn’t ideal, but at least she knew it’d be safe. It would have to do.
Flicking on the shower, she rushed through the motions of getting ready, only slowing down when she had to retrieve clothes from the bedroom. She tiptoed quietly around the bed, pulling out a nice pair of dark, low-rise pants and a short-sleeved jacket appropriate for work. She grabbed a matching crop top that hugged her curves until it stopped short on her waist. It definitely did not qualify as professional, but as long as s
he kept the jacket on, no one would notice.
As she slipped on her shoes and shrugged on the jacket, she grabbed a meal bar from the kitchen. It tasted like dirt, but at least she could eat it on her way to the Peace—meaning she wouldn’t have to stick around the apartment any longer than she absolutely had to.
She tucked it in her pocket and headed to the door.
“Sage?” Everett’s groggy voice called from the bedroom.
Her hand froze on the doorknob. “Yeah?” she replied softly. Her heart hammered in her throat.
“Come back to bed,” he murmured.
“Can’t.” She swallowed. “I have to be in early today. And—” she added hastily, “—you shouldn’t wait up for me. Work’s been crazy ever since the bombing, and I think I have to pull a double shift tonight.” Sage winced. She didn’t want to lie to him, but she couldn’t begin to tell him everything going through her mind at that moment, especially when she didn’t even know.
“But you just—”
“I really have to go,” she said, cutting him off. “I’ll see you later.”
With that, she flung open the door and raced down the hallway, Everett’s protests dying in the space between them.
***
The Transfer door slid open. Sage started moving toward it and then stopped abruptly.
“Well, come on, now, firecracker. Don’t tell me you’re gonna take the stairs now that you’ve seen me here. I’m not sure I’d ever recover from the insult.”
“Hey, Boulder.” She smiled up at him as she entered the Transfer. “It’s good to see you.”
“Now that’s more like it.” He grinned. “Heading home?”
“Uh…” She dropped her gaze, picking at her nails as the Transfer began plummeting. “I was actually thinking of going to Perjaash.”
“You don’t say?” He cocked his head, studying her with an amused smile. “I didn’t think that was your scene.”
She lifted her chin. “Well, it is tonight.”
“Alright, firecracker.” Boulder rubbed his knuckles under his chin as he studied her. “I was actually thinking of heading there myself tonight. Want an escort?”
Sage opened her mouth to protest, then remembered her dot and its brand new dark red hue and thought better of it. Having an officer around would definitely help her keep her Chances on the long walk to the club. “Yeah, actually. That’d be pretty great.”
Boulder beamed like she’d just given him the highest compliment by agreeing. “Alright, then,” he said, setting a beefy arm around her shoulders as the Transfer arrived on the ground floor. “Let’s make a night of it.”
“Exactly what I had in mind.”
Sage allowed him to guide her through the front door and through the maze of streets toward the club. When the sign for Perjaash finally came into view, Sage stripped her jacket off and looped it over her arm, revealing her form-fitting top.
“You’re killing me,” Boulder groaned. “That’s been hiding under there all day? I really should’ve visited you earlier.”
She fought back a grin as she punched him in the arm. He didn’t even blink—it’d probably made no more lasting impact than an insect landing on him.
“If you don’t mind your manners, I’m going to find myself another escort,” she warned.
“Eh, sure, after I’ve done all the hard work,” he teased, draping his arm across her shoulders again as they walked down the steps. “No chance I’m letting you out of my sight now.”
The same man as before stood at the bottom of the steps. He nodded at Boulder in recognition but then stared pointedly at Sage, still barring entry to the club.
She rolled her eyes as she hooked her thumb inside her waistband, yanking it down just enough to reveal the brand on her hip. “It’s not my first time,” she mumbled begrudgingly.
He examined her mark and then shrugged unapologetically as he finally moved aside. Boulder grunted some form of acknowledgment as he pushed open the door.
A wave of relief washed over Sage as soon as she stepped over the threshold. No one could strip her Chances in here. For now, she was safe.
The place was busy, but it wasn’t packed yet. It was still early in the evening, so the music that greeted them was a simple, soothing melody. It was warm, almost familiar—and completely different than the thick, pulsing beat that had buried itself deep inside her, jarring her all the way to her bones the last time she’d been there.
Maybe they waited until after dark to switch to that.
“I’ll grab us some drinks,” Boulder said, nudging her in the opposite direction.
“Ok.”
She started toward the lounge and then cringed as she remembered his choice of drink. Opening her mouth, she turned back around to ask for something a little less potent, but her request never left her lips. Movement by the door caught her attention. Her eyes narrowed as she watched Kai make his way across the club. He grabbed a drink and then settled into a corner booth along the far wall by himself.
Anger flared inside her. Her teeth clenched together tightly, almost painfully, making her head start to throb. She knew it was his fault Penelope was dead. And after being ambushed the other night, she knew exactly how awful her last moments must have been.
Before she realized what she was doing, she’d already crossed half the club, heading toward him. By the time she had a chance to think through her actions, she was already standing right in front of him.
“Hello, Sage.” Kai tapped the edge of his drink, not looking up as he spoke.
“Kai,” she bit out.
“Are you just planning on standing there all night, or was there something you needed?” His green eyes flicked to hers, hardness behind them.
She slid into the booth, taking a seat directly across from him. Her breathing stuttered as she stared back at him. “You killed her.”
“Maybe.” A muscle jumped in Kai’s jaw. “But a lot of people have died at my hand. You’ll have to be a bit more specific.”
“Penelope. My friend,” Sage practically growled. She ignored the fact that he’d basically just admitted to mass murder and focused on her anger rather than sadness. It was the only way she’d get through this conversation without falling apart. Besides, the indifference scrawled plainly across Kai’s face made it easy to channel rage.
“Penelope…” Kai said thoughtfully, staring into the distance. “The demonstration,” he said flatly, remembering.
“Yes,” Sage hissed.
He raised the glass to his lips, taking a small sip of amber liquid. Sage wanted nothing more than to reach across the table and shatter that stupid glass in his face, but she fought back the primal urge that itched below her skin. Attacking Kai would only get her killed, and it wouldn’t bring Penelope justice.
“I remember,” Kai said. “A necessary sacrifice. Same as every year.”
“A necessary sacrifice?” Sage’s eyes narrowed into slits. “Somehow I don’t think she would’ve seen it the same way.”
He shrugged. “That’s irrelevant.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re still alive,” she said pointedly.
“As are you.”
Her mouth fell open.
“Someone had to die, Sage,” he explained calmly. “If not Penelope, then who? Who would you have chosen to sacrifice?”
“No one,” she said through gritted teeth. “I wouldn’t have sacrificed anyone.”
“That’s not an option.”
“Of course it is,” she snapped.
“Well, there you see the different nature of your choice.” He swirled the liquid in his glass. “A man in my position doesn’t have the luxury to turn aside from the way things are done. A choice had to be made. The demonstration is a crucial part of saving many lives every year, preventing ignorant minds from questioning the way things are done—questioning whether things are as they’ve been told they are.”
He took another sip before continuing. “The demonstration—the sacrifice�
��is done so that more people can be of greater service to Eprah. When people doubt that the System of Worth is true, they tend to be careless. They lose many Chances prematurely, often to their permanent detriment. As I’m sure you’re aware, death is irreversible. Penelope’s sacrifice undoubtedly saved countless lives.”
Anger flashed behind her eyes. “Let me get this straight. You’re actually trying to tell me it’s a good thing that you killed my best friend?”
His lips twitched. “In answer to your earlier question, I can’t say if I killed her or not. That’s the point of the sacrifice. No one person is responsible for the resulting death. It’s a cumulative effect.”
She stared at him in disbelief. “You’re not even remotely sorry that you killed her.”
“I would do it again in a heartbeat,” he replied without hesitation.
“That’s despicable.”
“Is it? When you know it will save lives and serve Eprah?”
Sage only nodded, unable to speak.
“Well, as I said before, I didn’t have the luxury of making another choice.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “Who would you have chosen, Sage?”
“I told you—I wouldn’t have.”
He leaned forward. “And I told you—that isn’t one of your options.”
Her nostrils flared. “Fine,” she snapped. “Me, then.”
Something like surprise flitted across his features for a fraction of a second, but it was quickly replaced with his normal stony gaze, making her wonder if she’d actually seen anything different at all.
“You’re Kunbriat. You weren’t an option for the sacrifice,” he said evenly. “And even if you weren’t—if you were the one choosing, you wouldn’t be able to choose yourself.”
“I still choose no one, then,” Sage said, unwilling to play along with this scenario.
Kai shook his head slowly. “And that’s why you will never be the one to choose—and why I will continue doing my job to serve Eprah and save lives.”
Sage’s stomach turned in revulsion. He really believed what he was saying—that he was actually helping people, helping Eprah.
“Why Penelope? Who chose her?” Sage’s voice cracked, betraying the pain that she was unsuccessfully trying to keep locked away.