“I should have known it was you guys,” I say bitterly. “I should have figured it out sooner. How stupid am I?”
“You’re not stupid.”
“I am. You’re around me every day. I should have known.” My voice cracks, and I stop. I can’t do this; I can’t fall apart in front of him.
Vander shifts on the bed, and I think he’s going to leave. Instead, he moves a little closer.
“I don’t talk much,” he says quietly.
I look at him, confused by the sudden subject change.
“It’s not because I don’t have anything to say,” he continues, his blue eyes fixed on mine. “It’s because I learned a long time ago that words can be used against you. That every word you speak can be twisted, recorded, used as leverage.”
“Vander—”
“Let me finish.” He shifts slightly to face me better. “I spent three weeks in a cell where every word I said brought someone else pain. My girlfriend at the time, a friend, people I cared about. My captors would ask me questions, and no matter what I said, it ended up hurting the people I wanted to protect.”
My chest tightens, and I hold back the emotions flooding me right now.
“So I stopped talking,” he says. “I learned fast that silence can’t be used against anyone. Silence is safe.”
“That’s not safe,” I whisper. “That’s lonely.”
“Yes,” he agrees. “But it kept people alive.” He pauses, and I wait. “When we decided on the Wild Steps thing,” he continues, “it was supposed to be controlled and safe. But somewhere along the way, it stopped being about that and started being about you. About being close to you without the complication of you knowing it was us.”
“That’s still lying,” I say.
“It is,” he agrees. “We were wrong. I was wrong. But I’m telling you now because I’m breaking my rule. I’m using words and I’m trusting you with them.”
I let that sink in. Vander is trusting me, and he doesn’t realize how much that means to me.
“Ace and Rhodes are waiting for you in the living room,” he says. “They want you to understand why we did this. But first, I needed you to know that my silence isn’t a wall. It’s how I protect people and keep them safe.”
“By not talking to them?”
“No, by choosing every word carefully. Only speaking when it matters.” He looks at me. “This matters. You matter to me.”
My throat feels tight.
“Come on,” Vander says, extending his hand. “They’re waiting.”
I take it and let him pull me to my feet.
The living room is too bright after the darkness of the bedroom. Ace is standing by the window, while Rhodes is pacing. They both turn when they see me.
“Before you say anything, I want it to be clear that I’m still furious with you.”
“We know—” Ace says.
“No, I’m not done,” I cut him off. “I don’t want to hear any apologies, and I don’t want to hear your explanations. But I want you to know that what you did was wrong. It was a violation of my trust.”
“Maddie,” Rhodes tries to interrupt.
“Just stop!” I shout, all the rage and hurt from the past few hours pouring out. I pace, moving back and forth across the living room. “You lied to me. Though you knew I didn’t want complications, you decided that didn’t matter. You decided you knew better than me what I wanted.”
“We were trying to protect you,” Rhodes says, clearly unable—or unwilling—to keep quiet.
“By lying to me?” I whirl around to face him. “That’s not fucking protection, Rhodes. That’s manipulation.” I pace some more, unable to stay still. “Do you have any idea how violated I feel right now?”
