“I wanted to do it on my own,” I say, forcing myself to keep talking. “I didn’t want to wait, to explain things, to have to justify my reasons. I didn’t even want you to worry. I just wanted to make things right.” I shake my head. “But I was going to tell you anyway. Tonight. I was going to tell you all of it. I just didn’t have a chance.”
The tension in his body eases slightly, but his eyes draw together in confusion. “So you didn’t tell me the truth because you didn’t think I’d be capable of surviving a mission into the Ark?”
“I just wanted to protect you—”
He shakes his head. “Rosabelle, that’s maybe the nicest and the meanest thing you could possibly—Shit—”
He pulls his pager out of his pocket, the notification silent this time. His jaw hardens as he scans the message.
37
Rosabelle
I wait, quietly spiraling, until he meets my eyes. I don’t even have to ask him to tell me what’s happening anymore.
“It’s another call for backup,” he says to me. “They’ve managed to corral one of the suspects in an enclosed location. They’ve barred the exits, but there’s no telling what will happen next.”
“Oneof the suspects,” I note aloud.
James offers me a bleak look. “Yeah. They’ve already taken out a few people. Decoys, probably.”
I consider him then, hoping to deliver my next words gently, and likely failing in the effort. “James. I need you to understand this: Your world is dangerously vulnerable. The Reestablishment has been pushing pieces carefully into place for years. They have every intention of taking back their power—and you shouldn’t trust anyone,” I say. “Spies and agents have infiltrated nearly every corner of your society.”
“Yeah,” he says, fixing me with a piercing look. “I know.”
“You have to let me come with you,” I say. “No one is as motivated as I am to get back that vial—”
He makes a harsh sound, something like a laugh. “You literally just told me not to trust anyone.”
“You can trust me.”
He considers me a beat, his eyes tight with some abstruse emotion. “You sure about that?”
It’s a long moment before I can offer him an honest answer. He watches me as I struggle in the silence, a breeze pushing my hair across my face.
Finally, I say, “I think so.”
“You think so?” James smiles darkly into the distance. “I can’t tell you how much I hate that answer, Rosabelle.”
I say nothing to that, turning my eyes instead to the jacket I’m wearing, the jacket he took off his own back to keep me warm. I find that little orange kite pin on the pocket, and I flex my fingers to keep from touching it, bite my tongue to keep from asking about it.
I don’t want to learn more about him. I don’t want my heart to get any bigger. There’s no point.
I’ll be dead soon enough.
“You’re hiding something from me, aren’t you?” he says. “Something else.”
I look up sharply.
“You’re still keeping secrets,” he says. “I can tell. There’s something else you don’t want me to know.”
“Look,” I say, taking another lifesaving step backward. I try to stay calm. “I’m worried that no one else will realize the importance of the vial tonight. The vial is more important than any assailant. And if there’s a chance it could be lost or broken or overlooked—”
“Wow, deflection,” he says, cutting me off. “Nice. That’s mature.”
I meet his eyes, see the challenge there.
“Fine,” I say quietly. “Yes, I’m keeping secrets. But so are you.”
