by Frankie Rose
******
Daniel’s hand rested lightly on my arm. I jerked awake, my pulse racing. No bad dreams. No apparent danger. I quelled the unsettled energy inside me and looked up at him, resentful that he seemed intent on ruining whatever potential sleep I might have for the rest of my life.
“It’s starting to rain.” His voice was hushed and calm.
He was right. The sky overhead was blanketed with pregnant grey rain clouds. Their first swollen droplets were descending to explode mightily on the marbled, rusty earth, each producing small bursts of dust as they made contact.
“I would have carried you in but there’s no way I could have gotten you down the ladder without waking you up.” His tone was practically apologetic.
My heart hammered at the idea of him carrying me, of being lifted in his arms again. It didn’t help that he was wearing a black button-down shirt today instead of his usual t-shirt, and he just looked plain hot. I kicked against the foolish, unwelcome reaction and set my jaw.
“It’s fine.”
He held out his hand. I ignored it and gathered up my stuff, juggling chair, book, lemonade, and chips, before he took the chair from me and folded it, carrying it under his arm. He gave me a tight smile and gestured grandly in front of him, indicating that I ought to go first.
Ha! He thinks I’m gonna try and give him the slip. Where am I going to run to out here? Jerk.
We made our way back into the silo, dashing the last few feet as the rain began to fall with purpose, wetting our skin and hair. By the time we made it under shelter, his shirt was clinging to his back, and my own pale grey tank top had turned into a second skin. I paused to catch my breath as we ducked inside the open entranceway.
Daniel stepped inside and stood with his back to me as I threw a look over my shoulder to marvel at the sheeting rain. The downpour sounded like gunfire. It rattled and hammered on the old steel above us, echoing around the inside of the silo, vibrating in my chest. The rude volume of it all made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
“Would you hate me less if I apologized?” Daniel was suddenly behind me. I spun to look at him, surprised by how sincere he sounded. His eyes downcast at our feet, his shoulders hitching up and down erratically as he breathed, uneasy and unsure.
I did my best not to get angry. “Well, it would probably help. But I’m not gonna forget that you threw me to the wolves for your own purposes.”
A succession of emotions fleeted across his face. He remained focused on the dirt between our feet, which made it difficult to tell whether he was angry or upset. The atmosphere intensified as the rain grew in force, and yet the silence between us roared louder than anything else.
“I wouldn’t expect you to,” he murmured.
Oh, no you don’t, I thought. There was no way I was feeling sorry for him. He would undoubtedly be back to his arrogant self in no time, and then I’d feel stupid for playing right into his hands. For all that, my stomach still butterflied when he looked up at me. I bit my lower lip, trying to ignore the heady, powerful feeling mixing with all my anger.
“I never wanted you here,” he whispered.
I flinched. It was one thing knowing something because it was obvious, and another thing entirely having someone say it to your face. “Wow. Gee, but you’ve made me feel so welcome, Daniel. I would never have guessed you felt that way,” I shot back.
“That’s not…that’s not what I mean.” A shadow of vulnerability played across his face as he struggled with his words. “You have no idea—”
“You’re right, I don’t! Everyone keeps hiding things from me! I know you’re still not telling me the whole truth. That’s the same as lying in my book, okay? I don’t like it, and I wish you people would just give me some credit. Maybe I might be able to handle whatever else is going on! You all talk about trust. I’ve given you every single scrap of trust I own and you’ve given me none in return! I can’t even come and sit out here without you posting a guard to make sure I’m not going to run away.”
“I CAME UP HERE BECAUSE I WAS SCARED, FARLEY!” he exploded. He reached out to grip my shoulders in both his hands. “I’m scared every day. I’m scared about the Quorum and their plans. I’m scared when I think about Elliot getting his hands on you—what would happen to you and everyone else if that were to happen. I’m scared because I feel useless. I didn’t want you here. I wanted you to have a normal life. I wanted you as far away from me as possible.” He trembled, the weight of his words still bouncing around the hollow shell of the silo.
I gaped up at him, feeling the pressure from his hands begin to dig into my shoulders. “You’re hurting me,” I whispered.
He let me go and stumbled back. I reacted and stepped forward at the same time, subconsciously wanting to close the gap between us. Beyond that, I didn’t know what else to do. Standing there, wishing I could find something, anything, to say to him as he locked me to the spot with his piercing gaze, felt insufficient.
“Daniel—”
“I’m sorry,” he broke in breathlessly. Before I could say anything in return, he wheeled and disappeared down the hatch.
“Well, thanks for clearing that up!” I cried after him. How could he say those things and run away without explaining himself? And why the hell was he so worried about me, anyway?
There was no way I was following him back down into the darkness. Instead, I sat down heavily on the pail that he had left behind and listened to the rain, fuming.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Seventy-Thirty