“Okay. Now what?” Max says, echoing my initial reaction to his story after our meeting at the rebel base.
“Now we find alcohol,” Henry mutters, scanning the space for any promising leads.
I cross my arms. “I was going to suggest we take care of Kaleb.”
“I’m sure he wants your hands on him way more than ours. I’m going for food and booze. Anyone else hungry?”
Hopefully not, because he doesn’t wait for a response.
“Where are we anyway?” I ask Dennel.
“Henry has family up here. This is their cottage. Fucking middle of nowhere. Hope you can fish.”
“Seriously?”
He grins. “Nah, I’m sure there are nuts and rabbits too.”
I give him a look.
“Okay. Fine, there’s civilization somewhere, I think. At the very least enough people willing to help us not starve.”
“What about your wife?”
“She’s on her way. Vi and Valentin are helping her through a rebel checkpoint, and Isaac will escort her here.”
“I still don’t feel right about splitting up. I wish they would have come with us.”
“Val couldn’t. He’s too important to Roberto. He agreed to help because of his sister, but he’s not about to abandon his post.”
“You did.”
“My situation is different. I couldn’t go back. Val has to.”
“Yeah, but didn’t he disobey orders too? Wasn’t his crime even worse?”
Max shifts his weight, which doesn’t help my nerves. I don’t know Val well, but I can’t stand the thought of someone being hurt because of me.
“We have to hope Roberto sees reason. He told us not to go, but we were successful. Hopefully, he factors that in and acknowledges that our disobedience saved his son’s life. Val is important enough to gain a pardon. That kid knows how to play the game.”
I don’t feel right about the whole thing, but I have enough to worry about with Kaleb. Vi can handle her brother.
The nurse joins us from the back of the cottage, keys in hand. She must sense our rapt attention and meets our gazes. “He’s doing better. You will probably be able to see him in a few minutes. A lot of damage, but we’re doing our best.” Her face darkens. “I won’t ask what happened to him, but it was clearly the work of professionals.”
Dennel and I offer a grim nod in response.
She clears her throat. “Anyway, I’m heading into town for some supplies. Anything you need?”
Dennel says no, but I have different plans. I give her my order, which results in two confused looks.
“Okay, well, I’ll try my best. You can probably go check on him if you want.”
“Andie.” Kaleb’s almost-smile has the power to erase what we’ve been through.
“Hey, stranger,” I return with a grin of my own.
The doctor squeezes his arm. “I’ll give you two a few minutes. We’re not finished though.”
She pats his cheek before disappearing.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better now that I’m not on the Truck of Eternity.”
I laugh and take the seat beside him. His right wrist looks reset and his left hand is bandaged with splints over several fingers. His face is a mess of color and gashes, bandages and stitches. I don’t want to know what the thin hospital blanket is hiding.
“Geez, you look like you’ve spent the day on the battlefield.”
“Not so attractive, huh?”
“I didn’t say that,” I say, and kiss him because I’m never going to stop now that I can.
Vibrant green shines through the bruises, radiating from dark circles of black and purple. They’re gorgeous, mesmerizing, and I can only stare for the first few seconds, frozen as his soul fills mine.
“I’ll admit, I never saw this end,” he says finally, and I press his bandaged hand against my cheek.
“This better not be the end. I’ve invested way too much at this point.”
“You know what I mean.”
“You have faith in people, Kaleb. That makes them believe in you.”
“I attract traitors, apparently,” he says, and I shake my head.
“You attract loyalty.”
“Know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think we should get married.”
I almost choke, but then melt at his goofy grin.
“Oh yeah? And I think I have the drugs to thank for that proposal.”
“No, I mean it! And we’ll get a dog. And bake pies.”
“Pies, huh?” I brush the hair back from his face as his sleepy eyes close in contentment. “What kind of pies?”
“I don’t know. Doesn’t matter. What kind of berries do you like?”
“I think the better question is, what kind of berries do we have?”
“Acorns.”
At least, it sounds like acorns before he drifts off. I snort to hold in my laugh and kiss each finger. I will not be leaving his side again.
Okay, fact. I lied. Kaleb is still sleeping when the nurse returns from town, and I force my legs to stand.
“Go,” the doctor says. “I’d like to change some of his dressings anyway.”
I rush to the great room for an update. The nurse waves when she sees me, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
“You found it.”
She hands me a box. “I did, but it wasn’t easy at this time of year. I don’t know what you’re planning to do with it.”
“Thank you.” I hug the small treasure, race back to Kaleb’s room—and freeze. The doctor warns me with a look.
“You don’t want to see this, Andie. Give us a few minutes?”
I swallow, my previous joy dissolving into the familiar anger.
“It’s amazing that he’s still breathing, let alone speaking,” she says.
“He didn’t deserve this.”
“I’m not sure who would.”
“The person who did this to him.” The words come out before I can stop them, and I feel guilty. Kaleb wouldn’t think so. He’d view this as a chance to stop the carnage, not continue the cycle. He paid an astronomical price for his principles, and yet Emery has probably already moved on to her next victim. Her next plan to take down Roberto Novelli.
Roberto. I’ve learned enough over the last few weeks to understand that his side is no army of saints either. Abandoning his son to be imprisoned and tortured may be the least of his crimes. Civilian murders in government-controlled zones, the calls for genocide in the elite Region 1 and Region 4. I certainly understand Kaleb more at every revelation of the world he knew. He saw the horror, but chose to look beyond the barriers. He saw the people beneath the labels and the circumstances that shoved them into realities they may or may not have otherwise accepted. He chose compassion. He chose justice. He chose to sacrifice when everyone else fought for control.
“Andie?”
“I’m here.”
The doctor pulls the sheet to cover his wounds as I approach.
His weak smile tears at my heart. It’s all-consuming in its brilliance.
“I got you something,” I say, still trying to come to terms with how much I love him.
“What?”
“Look.”
I hold up the small container and he knits his brows. “You got me a weed?”
I laugh. “It’s a plant.”
“Um. Okay. Well, thank you.”
“It’s a tomato,” I explain, my eyes burning with tears as his fill.
“A tomato,” he repeats in wonder.
“We’re gonna have a ton of them. We’ll grow shit. I promise.”
I wipe my eyes and kiss him.
“Thanks, Andie. It’s beautiful.”
“You’re welcome.”
/> “Hey, Sorenson.”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
My heart floods with him. I never thought this day would come. Tomatoes and freedom. The love of my life still breathing, still revealing a reality that others are now discovering.
Most of all, Kaleb Novelli showed me the truth. We’re all traitors. Despite the darkness, there’s hope. There’s light. In a world of betrayal, I found loyalty.
The End.
CHAPTER HEADINGS
Each chapter heading is a sequential move from a classic chess match between Akiba Rubinstein and Karel Hromadka. Rubinstein won by resignation when Hromadka conceded several moves after a brilliant maneuver by Rubenstein on move 25 (Qb6).
To my husband whose support and encouragement have allowed me to achieve my dream of sharing my words with others.
To my friends and amazing CPs, Sunniva Dee, Saffron A. Kent, Lynn Vroman, and D Nichole King. Thank you for your time and input that helped take this story to a new level.
To my dear friends and “crew” Evie Woods, Nicola Tremere, Brenda Travers, and Nisha Reading. Thank you for standing behind me and helping me turn a passion into a career.
To the awesome betas who took the time to read (sometimes more than once) and offer their honest feedback: Evie Woods, Nicola Tremere, Kali McQuillen, Darlene Avery, Nisha Reading, and Eli Peters.
To Rick Knauss whose chess expertise found and interpreted the perfect game for Andie and Kaleb’s story.
To my dear friend (and now cover model!) Jean-Philippe Mercier who shocked us all with his ability to capture Kaleb’s essence. You killed it.
To Era Media Co. for once again perfecting my vision with an amazing cover.
To my friend and fellow “article” book club member, Megan Buisch. Thank you for lending your medical expertise.
To the members of Aly’s Breakfast Club. I consider each of you a friend and inspiration. <3
To those reading this book, thank you for taking the chance and following this journey with me. I’d love to get to you know you:
Alyson Santos
PO Box 577
Trexlertown, PA 18087-0577
Traitor Page 25