by Ashley Maker
“I’ve been trapped for so long,” he says. “I thought you were the answer. You could lead me straight to the murderers who made the call to kill my family.” His voice breaks, and he takes a deep breath, jaw clenching on the exhale. “That’s what I never told you. It was a planned slaughter, not some chance run-in. They’re as organized as we are, did you know that? Every kill they make is authorized, and I’m going to find the Rogue who gave the order, even if I have to take out every last one of them.”
Resting his weight on one hand, he leans closer, his body blocking out the treetops above. “I knew you were special and could one day take me all the way to them. I want you to be put on a tracking team, and I want to be on it with you. That part’s true.”
Another sob crushes my chest. So it is all about his stupid job and Mathias’ orders. He’s even admitting it. I flinch and turn away.
“Clare, don’t…” His fingertips brush across my face. “Just because that part is true doesn’t make the rest of it a lie.”
“Yes, it does.”
“But I didn’t lie to you.”
Even now, my gaze falls on his lips. It takes all my strength to look up. “You didn’t tell me the truth, and I trusted you.”
Kade leans back and rubs a hand across his face. “I know, but I would have told you eventually.”
“I can’t depend on eventually.”
We look at each other, and that’s when I know it’s hopeless. He wants me to forgive him and go back to how things were, but I can’t. I just can’t. And I think he knows that, too.
“Do you hate me?” he asks.
The answer is automatic. “No, I don’t hate you.”
I love you.
“Then it’s not over.”
Hope flares bright in his eyes, and I wish I could believe him. But that’s just it. He’s already proven I can’t. When he starts to reach for me, that understanding is what gives me the strength to push away the hand he offers. The strength to look away from him, to stumble to my feet and start walking. Forcing myself not to look back, I walk away from everything that could have been between us.
I walk away from Kade.
35
I shouldn’t be here.
In fact, this might be the worst place I could have possibly gone, but Tarry will tell me the truth. And I need that now more than ever.
My hand hovers in the air, trembling inches from the front door of the headmaster’s cabin. If someone other than Tarry answers, how will I explain why I’m here? Or worse, what if Tarry doesn’t want to see me after what happened?
I don’t know what I’ll do if he turns me away, but it’s now or never. I can’t keep standing here all night.
My knuckles scrape across the door, each knock echoing in the entryway. I hold my breath and wait. A few seconds later, someone rustles around on the other side, turning the lock with a dull-sounding clink. The door swings open and Tarry stands in the doorway wearing a baggy pair of sweatpants and a black band T-shirt. His nose is slightly swollen. Dark bruising shadows both eyes. He stares, not smiling, but there’s so much concern in his eyes I can’t take it.
Eyes puffy, I blink rapidly against the brimming tears. I know how awful I must look. My whole face is one big aching mess, I can’t breathe through my nose, and stiff tear trails make both cheeks feel like they might crack. With a pathetic sniffle that doesn’t clear the swollen airways, I rub the back of a hand across my face and wish I had something to clean myself up with.
“Hey, don’t cry,” Tarry murmurs, stepping onto the porch and shutting the door behind him. “Everything will be okay.”
“No, it won’t.” I swallow hard, fighting with everything in me to keep it together. I didn’t come here to lose it, and I’m so sick of crying. The last thing I want is to dissolve into a blubbering, sopping mess on his doorstep. “You were right about everything, weren’t you?”
The expression on Tarry’s face is so heartbreakingly grim. He nods in confirmation, almost grimacing. “I’m sorry.”
A sour taste lies heavy on my tongue, and my stomach rolls like I might start heaving. I already knew it was true—Kade admitted it himself—but something about Tarry acknowledging that fact makes it infinitely worse. Undeniable, like all my secrets are on display for the world to see. “Were you told to get close to me, too? Has everyone here been pretending?”
“I was not pretending. None of your true friends were.” Tarry closes the distance and pulls me into his arms, resting his chin on top of my hair. For a second I let him hold me, but I didn’t come here for that either. I pull back to see his face. He sounds sincere when he says, “I know how my dad must look right now, but he has morals. I’m still a minor, and a student, too. Only a staff member would get an order like that.”
“Then how did you know?”
“Laila told me when I went to visit her tonight. She’s worried about you. She asked me to warn you, but I would have told you anyway.”
So much of what Laila said in our last conversation makes sense now. She was trying to tell me about Kade without breaking orders herself, and I should have listened. I should have trusted her. I should have trusted Tarry, too. From day one, he didn’t like Kade. He tried to keep me from getting hurt, and I ignored him.
“What am I supposed to do now? I can’t” —my voice cracks, and I shudder— “I can’t go be in that room with him.”
“Let’s talk to my dad. We’ll tell him what happened, figure out another option.”
“No.”
His hands brace on my shoulders. “Clare—”
“No.” Telling Mathias will just make everything worse. “I’m not telling your dad anything. He’s the reason I’m in this mess. He hates me.”
“He doesn’t hate you.”
“Oh, yeah?” The words come out bitter. “All he’s done is blame me and suspect me of everything, to the point he ransacked my room and broke my things. And that’s not even mentioning how he chloroformed me and locked me up when I first got here. What’s he going to do when he finds out his undercover mission has been blown wide open? How will he come at me next?”
“He did what now?” His eyes narrow like he doesn’t believe me.
“All of it. He did all of it, Tarry.” I rack my brain trying to figure out how to prove I’m telling the truth, but the only other person who knows for sure is Kade, and there’s no way Tarry would believe him. “There’s probably footage of when I was in the observation room, and I can show you my mom’s snow globe. Someone broke it while I was in the infirmary. The glass is still in the bathroom trashcan.”
Tarry opens his mouth, but says nothing. With a sigh, he rubs a hand across his forehead. “That…changes things.”
I jerk my head back, scouring his face for a sign of what he’s thinking. “You believe me?”
“Yeah.” He sighs again, angrily this time. “My dad is already on edge. Having his advantage taken away might provoke him to do something extreme.”
I don’t even want to imagine how much more extreme Mathias could get.
Tarry’s voice dips low, “Why didn’t you tell me about all of that? I could have helped you.”
I look away. “I don’t know. I mean, he’s your dad…”
The excuse falls flat, creating a space between us that feels stagnant and awkward. I could have told Tarry, but I didn’t because I had Kade.
Tarry’s lips press together. He shakes his head with a long exhale. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but we need to find Kieran and make sure he keeps his mouth shut. If my dad finds out, he’ll go on the warpath.”
My fingers go cold. Each heartbeat feels heavier than the last. There’s no way going to Kade will turn out well for me, but talking to Mathias doesn’t seem much better. In the end, I trail behind Tarry to the girl’s dormitory, insides crumbling more and more with every step, but I stall when we approach the front door, pressing shaking hands to pounding temples. “How do you know he’ll be here?”
&nbs
p; Tarry scuffs a boot on the cobblestones. “‘Cause it’s the most likely place for you to go, and he’d be stupid to give up on you so easily. I know I wouldn’t.”
Freezing mid-step, I stare up at him, at a complete loss for words. He’s serious—too serious—and I suddenly realize how incredibly fragile things are between us. It’s like we’re on a balance board, and a single shift of weight could send us falling one way or the other.
The terror must show on my face, because he nudges my shoulder and softens his tone. “Of course I’m awesome, so I wouldn’t have lied and lost you in the first place. Naturally.”
I try to smile, but my face feels all wrong.
He cringes and draws me in for a hug. “I want to knock him out for making you so sad. Just…I’m here for you. I would never hurt you like that.”
Words get stuck in my throat. I hug him back, scared to let go in case he disappears when I step away.
“Are you ready to go in?”
No. Definitely no. Never in a million years no. “Let’s get it over with.”
With an encouraging smile, Tarry opens the front door and ushers me into the entryway. My gaze immediately snags on Kade across the room. He’s sitting on the last step of the spiral staircase, head in his hands. He lurches to attention, jumping to his feet.
His eyes are shining, locked on mine, and it guts me. I gasp and stumble back a step. “I was wrong. I can’t do this.”
Tarry wraps a halting arm around my shoulders. “Yes, you can. You’ve got this. I’m right here with you.”
Kade’s gaze narrows on Tarry’s arm. I try to remind myself he’s the one who kept something from me. I shouldn’t feel bad about being here with Tarry. His arm around me means nothing.
So why do I feel so bad about it?
“So, here’s what’s going down,” Tarry announces. “You’re not going to tell my dad a single word about what happened tonight. He’s got it out for Clare, and he needs to keep believing you’ve got her fooled, at least until this whole mess with the security breach dies down. Got it?”
I stare at the wall over Kade’s shoulder and try to focus on taking one breath after another. If I look at him, even to see what kind of reaction he’s having, I’ll lose control completely.
When Kade finally answers, he sounds exhausted. “I’m not going to say anything unless Clare wants me to.”
Both sets of their eyes drill into my face. Somehow I get words out, weak and pathetic as they sound. “I don’t want you to.”
“Have you considered what that will mean?”
I bite the inside of my cheek. It’s this or Mathias. Talking to Kade was supposed to be easier, but maybe not.
Tarry sounds like he’s rolling his eyes when he says, “Would you knock it off already? Just spit it out and quit messing with her.”
A lightning-fast glance. Barely a glimpse before I’m staring at cream-colored wall again, but it’s enough to find out Kade isn’t paying attention to Tarry at all. The spark of our eyes meeting cuts deep.
“You’ll have to be around me,” Kade says. “During training, and at night. Just as much as before. He has to think nothing’s changed.”
Oh.
No, I hadn’t really considered those things. I thought we’d all agree to keep it quiet, and after that we could keep our distance. How stupid—how incredibly naïve of me to think it could be that easy.
Tarry squeezes my shoulder and snaps something snarky at Kade, but I don’t make out the words.
I grit my teeth and close my eyes. The whole thing is so messed up. I just want to go to bed and sleep until all of this is over. I want to pretend none of this happened, and I want this choice to be easier.
But all I get is this choice, and I can’t afford to choose wrong. I can either spend time with Kade and keep Mathias in the dark about knowing his stupid plan, or I can let the secret out and face who knows what kind of consequences. Beyond whatever Mathias would place on me, Kade and Laila could lose their jobs, and Tarry…I have a feeling getting grounded would be the least of the punishment he would face.
I can’t do that to them.
Despite everything with Kade, I can’t bear the thought of him getting fired because of me, not when I know why he works so hard and I can still picture his family’s faces so clearly in my mind.
I meet Kade’s intense stare straight on. “I’ll pretend everything is the same. Just don’t tell him.”
“After you, then,” he says, stepping aside and unblocking the staircase.
“You don’t have to do this,” Tarry says, seeming as reluctant to let go as I am to take a step forward. “I bet you could stay with Piper in her room instead.”
“I know.” But I can’t, not really. If I stayed in her room, she’d want to know why, and I don’t want to drag her into this, too. One less person to worry about in case this blows up in my face.
The resigned look in Tarry’s eyes makes me feel better about the decision. If he thought I was doing something wrong, he’d tell me. I know he would.
“I’ll walk you to your room,” Tarry says, shooting a vicious side-eye at Kade. He keeps an arm around my back all the way to the bedroom door. Pulling me in for a hug, he murmurs, “I’ll be here in the morning. You won’t have to be alone. I’ll stay with you all day.”
Not trusting myself to speak, I nod and step back.
Tarry’s crooked grin flashes for the barest of moments before he turns and glares at Kade. “If you hurt her even one iota more, I will make it my mission to make sure you never work at a compound again. Got that?”
Kade punches in the door code. “Threat received, Blaydell. Feel free to skip along now.”
“Get bent,” Tarry says with a scowl.
The green light flashes, and Kade opens the door. With a last look at Tarry, who is still shooting dirty looks at Kade, I make a beeline straight for the bathroom, shutting the door more forcefully than I need to.
I slump over the sink, hands gripping the granite, listening to the soft thud-click of the bedroom door meeting the jamb and locking. My bare feet are cold and dirty. A glance confirms my eyes and nose are as red and puffy as they feel.
After wetting a washcloth in the sink and pressing it to my swollen face, I turn the shower on full blast and perch on the edge of the tub. The hot water stings my feet, but I leave them in, watching the dirty water swirl toward the drain. Anything to distract me from thinking about Kade.
Not that it works for very long.
When I emerge from the bathroom about fifteen minutes later, Kade is kneeling over a sleeping bag in the walkway between the two beds.
“Laila’s not here,” I say, voice dull even to my own ears. “You should take her bed.”
He unrolls the sleeping bag. “That wouldn’t be appropriate.”
Appropriate. The very concept is such a joke at this point.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, I pad across the hardwood and climb into bed. What do I care if he wants to sleep on the ground? Okay, sure, a part of me cares. I mean, if I hadn’t found out the truth, we might have had an entirely different kind of sleeping arrangement—
I shake my head. Going there definitely won’t help.
Curling toward the wall with my back to Kade, I close my eyes, teeth gritting against the sudden heart-gripping pain under my ribcage. My knuckles ache from clenching the pillow so tight, but the pain just keeps swelling upward, burning my throat and eyes. A hot tear blisters until I blink. More follow, and I shake with the effort of keeping the strangling sobs silent.
Shuffling comes from the floor. The clump of a single footstep. A deep, broken breath.
Nothing has changed. We can’t go back.
I should have known better than to fall for him. I should have known. I should have known.
Instead of coming closer, the footsteps retreat, followed by swamping darkness when Kade finally turns off the light.
36
“You’re not needed,” Kade snaps, glaring. “Why don
’t you just leave already?”
My heart shrinks. Not again. For the last seven days, I’ve listened to the same hurled insults and veiled threats.
Tarry bristles next to me. “Let Clare go for the day, and I’d be glad to. Or, better yet, how about you get off your high horse. You’re not the only one who can teach her things.”
The mats crunch under my sparring boots as I turn away from them and head to the water fountain on the far wall of the gym. I can’t keep standing there listening to their bickering, not when today is supposed to be a good day. The first good day since everything went downhill.
I finally get to visit Laila.
She was released from the infirmary four days ago, but until now Mathias stubbornly refused to let me see her. Tarry and I are supposed to go to the family’s cabin as soon as training is over for the day. If it’s ever over, that is. The last time they went back and forth like this, Kade kept us an additional half hour, probably just to prove a point.
I press the button on the fountain and gulp the cold water, resisting the urge to dunk my sweaty ponytail under the stream. Kade’s training schedule has been grueling, the exercises and drills too vigorous for conversation. The arrangement works for the most part, except for anytime Kade has to touch me—to adjust my stance, or to spar against me in a drill. That’s when Tarry starts objecting, insisting he should be the one to spar with me, which only sparks another argument between the two of them.
Tarry stalks to the water fountain. “Can you believe that guy?”
I step back so he can get a drink. A glance confirms Kade is watching. “I can spar with him. It’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, that’s what you said last time, and then you moped for like an hour after.”
My nose scrunches. “It wasn’t an hour.”
Tarry cuts a yeah, right glance at me and slurps another drink.
I want to protest, but he’s right. Being in close contact with Kade, even if we’re sparring, kills me inside. The pull is still there between us. Each touch makes me tingle and burn. Having him close, and not being able to have him, makes me feel empty. Hollow. Like I’m somehow less than I was before, a part of me gone.