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He continues, “But I need you to understand something. I can’t promise that Control won’t get hurt. You know how far he’s willing to go, and I won’t hesitate to protect my people if it comes down to it.”
His words carry a weight I can’t ignore. My stomach churns as I consider what he’s just said. Am I ready to accept the possibility of my father being hurt? Can I live with knowing I played a part in it?
“Okay,” I murmur, my throat tight. “I understand.”
My thoughts race, trying to catch up with the conversation I just had with Leon. I look at his strong hand gripping mine.
As I stare at our entwined fingers, I can’t help but think about how much easier it is to trust Leon than it has ever been to trust Control. My father has always been a man shrouded in secrets and half-truths. Despite knowing that he initially contacted me to get in good with the Burning Heretics, I still think Leon carries an air of honesty and integrity, and that draws me in like a moth to a flame.
A knock on the door interrupts our conversation, and a fit, middle-aged man with graying hair enters.
“Hello, Lacey,” he greets me, scanning the clipboard in his hand. I jerk at his use of my birth name but don’t move otherwise. “I’m Dr. Thomasson, and I’ll be taking care of you today.” He pauses, then says, “The x-ray confirms that your arm is indeed broken.”
My heart sinks, but I keep my expression as neutral as possible. “Oh. Okay.”
“Can you tell me how this happened?” Dr. Thomasson asks, eyeing both Leon and me.
“Um, well, I . . .” I hesitate, searching for an excuse. I should have thought of this before we came in. “I fell.”
“From what?” His gaze lingers on me, a hint of suspicion in his eyes.
“Stairs,” I blurt out, hoping he buys it.
“Okay . . .” He doesn’t seem entirely convinced. “Leon, could you please step outside for a moment? I need to discuss something with Lacey privately.”
“Sure, doc,” Leon says, but he seems reluctant to leave, squeezing my good hand before exiting the room.
After Leon steps out, Dr. Thomasson’s expression softens, and he lowers his voice. “Lacey, did Leon have anything to do with your injury?”
“Leon?” I almost laugh at the idea. “No, never. He’s been amazing to me.” The warmth of his embrace from earlier lingers in my memory.
Dr. Thomasson pins me with a serious gaze. “Lacey, if there’s anything else you want to tell me about how this happened, now would be a good time. It’s important to be honest so we can provide the best possible care for you.”
I bite my lip, contemplating. But the thought of betraying Control’s trust, even after everything he’s done, stops me from telling the truth. “I tripped and fell down some stairs. It was just an accident.”
“Very well.” Dr. Thomasson nods, though I can tell he’s far from satisfied with my answer.
“We’ll get a cast put on your arm shortly. In the meantime, try to keep it as still as possible.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, feeling my cheeks heat up as guilt gnaws at me and a mixture of relief and guilt wash over me.
As the door closes behind Dr. Thomasson, Leon slips back into the room, concern etched on his face. “Everything okay?”
I avoid his eyes. “He didn’t buy the fall story, but I stuck to it.”
“Rebellion, you don’t have to protect your father,” he says gently, placing a hand on my uninjured arm.
Leon sighs but simply sits beside me and wraps his arm around my waist, offering silent support. It’s more than I’ve ever had before, and despite the pain in my arm, I can’t help but feel grateful for him.
After a moment, though, he speaks again, his eyes locking onto mine. “Promise me something.” His tone is urgent, almost pleading. “Promise me you’ll stay away from the Burning Heretics’ clubhouse. It’s not safe for you there.”
I bite my lip, hesitating. The clubhouse has been my home for so long, and the thought of leaving it behind is terrifying. But I know Leon is right—I can’t keep living under Control’s oppressive thumb if I want a better life.
“Okay.” I finally agree, my voice thick with emotion. “I’ll stay away. Just as soon as I go back to gather up some things—I left a bag of art supplies there after I did the last mural. I can’t just leave all that stuff there.”
“Good,” Leon replies, a determined edge to his voice. “We’ll figure things out together, okay?”
“Okay,” I echo, feeling a flicker of hope ignite within me.
