“That was four years ago.”
He looks down. “So, you’ve done the math.”
But the memories keep trickling in, like a broken faucet. “Dessin told me that you had to turn yourself in—because they found your weakness.” He wouldn’t say what it was. “He said you found something to live for.”
His throat bobs. “It nearly tore my heart out to see you near death in my arms as I ran through the hills and the trees and the city. I’ve never run that fast in my life.”
Me. His weakness was me. “But you didn’t even know me.”
He uses his thumb to wipe the tears from my cheeks.
“When I heard you screaming… It was as if I was six years old again, watching my mother scream. But I couldn’t save her then. All I could do was watch and cry. Hearing those screams again woke something inside of me. I couldn’t save her, but I could saveyou.”
It’s as if I can hear the puzzle piece to this story physically clicking into place. I was his redemption. The guilt he held toward what happened to Sophia. I was his second chance.
“I’ve never had anything to care for after I lost my family. You were the purest, sweetest human being. Then and now.” He strokes my back in lazy circles. “And Dessin got the chance to know you in the asylum, learned of your heart, and the fire you have to care for others. It’s been one of the most rewarding times of my life to watch that behind his eyes.”
It all fits. “That’s why Dessin went to such great lengths to protect me. To avenge me. And that’s why I felt I knew him that first day. Because you were the angel that swept me away from death.” The tears gather again, this time from joy, from happiness.
“But why didn’t he just tell me? Why the secrecy?”
“Because my saving you that day—it made you a target to Demechnef. I wanted it to be your choice. To run with me. I didn’t want you to feel it was being forced on you.”
Because either way, he’d find a way to protect me, no matter what.
Another question. “Why did he break Sern’s neck?”
He traumatized her. She went mad from being his conformist.
“Sern was faking the insanity. She and her family were being targeted by Demechnef due to her role. Dessin gave her a clean break. He only hurt her in a way that would heal but seemed severe enough that she could convince the asylum of her mind being lost from the trauma.”
The gravity of his situation grows in size, pushing down on my shoulders with large hands.
“But—he still knew so much—knew personal details that you couldn’t have known. How?” He knew about Scarlett. He knew about my time in the basement.
The sun sets like a glowing coal losing its heat. He watches it with sadness growing in his soul.
“That’s one of the questions I can’t answer just yet.” It bothers him that he can’t share all he knows. That flexing jawline. His curling fingers. Unlike Dessin, he doesn’t like games.
The thought of Dessin causes my heart to sink in my chest, like an anchor drifting down to the ocean floor. “Is he gone…forever? Is Dessin gone?”Please. Don’t say yes. Don’t say yes.
Kane smirks, rolling his eyes at the idea. “I’d never be so lucky,” he mutters sarcastically. “He won’t want to reside in the inner world for long. He’s grown too fond of you.”
I let out an audible sigh and close my eyes. I don’t know how any of this works. He could have disappeared. He could have retired from taking care of me, being my friend. I’m warm with relief and joy.
“What about his instincts with Aurick and Masten? He knew they were bad news and always had a sense they would hurt me. It all just seems like…he’s psychic or something!” I let out a frustrated breath.
Kane shrugs his broad shoulders. “Not psychic. But close. Our mind works differently. It doesn’t have barriers that would keep others from seeing signs in body language, verbal cues, and past and present behavior. Not to mention, Dessin takes his job as an avenging alterveryseriously. He does his homework on everyone. So, he knew what to expect with Masten and Aurick.”
Makes sense. But I see Kane holding back in the clenched muscles of his jaw.
“That isn’t the whole story, is it?” I ask.
“Please believe that I’ll tell you the whole truth when it’s time.”
“We should sleep,” I say. Even though I only woke mere hours ago, my heart is worn and sore. I need the cover of nightfall to process, to sift through my new findings in my dreams. I need time.
Kane pulls out my cot, and we both settle in, adjusting to our first night together, in our new life on the run.
