“Where ... where was I?” I ask him, truly unable to remember.
He pulls back, staring between my eyes. “Wandering the streets. Three homeless men had hidden you successfully enough to keep whoever had been chasing you from finding you—”
“Oh shit! I remember them! Are they—”
“They will be well taken care of.” He closes the distance between us and presses his lips passionlessly to mine, like the movement was automatic more than intentional. Like he just needed to kiss me. I need him too.
He stands up and rubs his hand down his face, walks to the end of my bed, where he presses some kind of button that causes the whole bed to whir and sit me a little more upright. I stutter, “D-does that mean you’re going to kill them or like ... give them a reward?”
He’s still glaring at me, his eyes swirling with purple and white, indecision made visible.
“I hope it’s the latter,” I whisper. “They were really brave, helping me like they did.”
“They were.”
“So ... you didn’t kill them?”
“I didn’t.”
“That’s cool.”
“You know what isn’t cool?”
I could list a thousand things. Instead of playing dumb, I try, “Me spying on you?”
“Try again.”
“Me ... telling Mr. Singkham about your weapon? I saw it in your office.”
Surprise lights in his eyes before he narrows them. “Try again.”
“Me ... meeting up with the Marduk after Cynthia got hurt?”
“One more time, little girl.”
I wince at the condescension, still not knowing what he wants to hear from me. I shake my head.
He growls mean and low. “I’m upset because you told me you were going to try to trust me. Because you told me that youknewDarius wouldn’t let you fall. What happened to that? Or did it mean nothing at all?”
I shrink into myself, a sad little turtle. He’s right and I’m wrong. I don’t like being wrong. And it makes me realize just how fragile my trust truly is. I gave it to him with strings attached when I’d meant it as a gift. Most days, I feel pretty tough, but maybe I’m only strong when adrenaline laces my blood. Maybe when it comes to everything else, I’m a coward. He said it once—we’re both alone, we have that much in common. But maybe where he’s alone because he hates everyone, I’m alone because I suck at trust. But Iwantto trust Darius.
“I’m so sorry, Darius,” I whisper. “I should have told you. I was just scared.”
“The fact that you think I would hurt you pisses me the fuck off—”
“Not physically,” I say, cutting him off. “I just ... putting my trust in you, only for you to turn around and tell the Marduk ... I couldn’t risk it.”
“So your plan was to lie to me so I couldn’t lie to you first?”
“No. I couldn’t risk giving you my trust and having you break my heart.”
His face falls. Everything stills except for my medical machines, which frantically continue to beep.
He steps up to the bed and places his hand on my cheek. I look up at him, gnawing on my lower lip. When he says nothing, simply stares between my eyes, I blurt out, “I’m not any good at this, Darius.”
He inhales, then inhales even more deeply. His stained and tattered shirt stretches over his muscles, and he looks like he’s about to burst ... until his eyes close and he arches over my body, blocking out the awful white hospital lights behind him. He kisses the top of my head and just breathes for a second while I cling to his wrist, hoping against all hope that this isn’t it ... that he doesn’t leave ...
He withdraws and his stare is hard again. Hard and mean. I worry about what to say, what to do, what paltry promises I can offer to convince him that this time when I tell him I’m going to try to trust him, the words are actually true. But before I can get a word off, he pullsa phone out of his pocket. An old Nokia brick. “I take it you have one of these somewhere in your possession?”
