“You will.”
I don’t knowwhy I’m thinking about that particular memory a few mornings after I fucked Ben in the storage room.
I woke up with it filling my head, and my mind keeps turning the scene over and over again as I eat breakfast and get reports on the night that just passed.
You will.
He sounded so confident. Not pushy or arrogant. Just certain. Like he knew me back then better than I knew myself, and he had no doubts about what I was capable of accomplishing.
Recalling it now, I realize he’s been doing the same thing for seven years. Standing behind me, gently pushing me forward, keeping me from falling, holding me upright when I might have otherwise collapsed.
Some have said it’s a miracle—that I’ve successfully acted so often and effectively against a government so oppressive, so all-pervasive. But it hasn’t been a miracle.
It’s been Ben.
Two hoursafter this confounding realization, I’m staring down at a sheet of paper on which is scrawled a note in slanted handwriting.
After the first two lines, I suck in a sharp breath and jerk my head up, catching Ben’s eyes.
“What is it?” he asks, getting impatient and leaning so he can read over my shoulder. After a few seconds, he breathes out, “Shit.”
“It can’t be real. It’s like before—just a ruse to catch us at a disadvantage. It can’t be the real Robin.”
The note says Robin and his people are interested in joining up with us. That he wasn’t involved in the previous scheme, and he’s furious his name was used “in vain” that way. He gives coordinates where he’d like to meet with me, but if we don’t trust him, he’s also giving me the location of his current camp.
That fact, if true, makes him entirely vulnerable, so maybe it’s reason to trust him. But it’s too convenient, too tempting, too similar to the ambush last week.
There’s no one in the Central Cities I’d rather partner up with than Robin and his crew, but that’s why it’s the obvious lure to dangle.
I’m holding the note loosely, and Ben takes it from my hand, turning it over although Robin’s showy signature is at the bottom of the front side.
Ben stiffens beside me so dramatically that I jerk my eyes down to the writing on the back of the note.
I know you won’t trust me, but you should. I have friends with a dog named Bill.
I freeze. The entire world freezes. The paper flutters slightly in Ben’s grip.
“He can’t… He can’t… No one knows Teresa is my sister.”
“He says he’s friends with Teresa and Mason. Maybe he is.” Ben’s voice is hoarse and soft.
“But… But Teresa never said anything. She would… she would have. Surely she would have mentioned it.”
“Maybe she doesn’t know he’s Robin. They could believe he’s just a guy and not know his real identity.”
“That’s true.” I suck in several long, intentional breaths until I’ve pulled myself together. “Fuck. Now I don’t know what to do.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I want to work with Robin if we can trust him.”
“Then we should see if this is real and go from there.”
“Right. Right.” I rub my face rather violently to get my brain to start functioning again. “Okay. Let’s send out some scouts. We can see if they’re camped where he says they are and then check to make sure there are no guards anywhere around waiting to ambush us. If it’s clear, we’ll go talk to him. We’ll be careful, but I think the chance to have him on our side will be worth a small degree of risk.”
“Why don’t you send me?” Ben asks. “If it’s clear, I’ll talk to him. That way, if it’s a trap, they’ll get me and not you.”
“No fucking way.” I give him a cold look. “You’re not expendable. Besides, he’ll want to talk to me.”
