by David Gross
“I know I came on strong at first,” she said. “You weren’t the only one who had a lot of anger to face.”
“Rusk,” said Tal.
“And Mother, for not dealing with him earlier.”
“What could she have done?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Moved away, joined his bloody pack … something. It feels as though I’ve spent my whole life waiting for them to kill each other, and now it’s over. I don’t know what to do next.”
“What do you want to do?” he asked.
“That’s the problem,” she said. “I’ve never had to decide before.”
She went silent, waiting for Tal to say something. A hundred thoughts surfaced in his mind, but he pushed them back down. Every one of them seemed too perilous, too likely to add even more worries to his life. He already had his family to deal with, and now he had taken responsibility for the players as well. Adding Feena to that confusing mix could be nothing but trouble. It was hard enough keeping his relationship with her a secret from his family.
And he realized his mistake. Keeping secrets was not his virtue.
Tal turned on his side and ran a finger lightly along Feena’s jaw. Even in the partial moonlight, her freckles stood out against her fair skin. She turned to face him, kissing his palm before nuzzling his hand.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“I was thinking,” he said, “I’d like to make a deal with you.”
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