Cayden holds me like he’s afraid to let go.
“Thank you, I don’t know how to ever repay you.” The words shock both of us with how genuine they sound. I feel Cayden relax, one hand moving to the back of my head, his fingers threading through my hair.
“You’re welcome, love.”
?
I’m not sure what time it is. The sun has moved to the west, telling me it’s probably late afternoon; not quite sunset, but not midday, either. Cayden has sat by my side all afternoon, forgetting why he came here and letting me read.
When there’s a word I don’t recognise or understand, he seems to notice straight away, helping me without judgement or hesitation. Sometimes his fingers move to my hair, gently massaging my scalp or playing with the strands. It all feels so surreal. Then there’s another word that makes my brows knit, and immediately Cayden sits up, looking at the page.
“What word is it this time, love?”
I point to the word on the page. Unabashed. It’s not one I remember from any of The Academy books, and it’s not one I’ve ever heard from Bella before. Cayden’s smile never falters as he sounds it out, teaching me the word.
“It means not embarrassed, the person must have not been ashamed of what they did.”
“So, they don’t care?”
“That’s it, my smart girl.”
I can’t stop the blush that rises to my cheeks or the smile that follows as I move back to the book, continuing to read through the pages. The paper is rougher than The Academy books, those feel more like plastic compared to this.
But then the memories of the storage unit come back; the photo of me on the wall, my name there for me to see. I know he wanted me to see it. Cayden wouldn’t have told me if he didn’t. But I don’t understand why. What was so important I had to see it?
“Cayden?”
“Yes, love?” His eyes are on mine in an instant, and he sits up, looking at me like he’s trying to read me. I’m too tired to mask what I’m feeling right now.
“Why did you tell me about the storage unit, what was it you wanted me to see?” I watch as his face softens slightly, the scar through his brow smoothing out again.
“Darling, if I gave you the answers, you wouldn’t believe me.”
I don’t know why I expected an answer. He promised never to lie to me, but he never promised to answer me. I sigh, my head dropping down slightly, but he quickly pulls my chin back up to look at him.
“You already know the answer, love, I know you do. But you just need to let yourself believe it. And when you ask me, I will answer you honestly, just like I always have. You’re smart, darling. You will figure it out.”
But I don’t. I don’t know the answer, and I sure don’t know what to believe anymore. Three weeks ago, I would’ve trusted The Academy to protect us, to keep us safe as long as we followed their rules and did their missions. Now that’s not even safe.
I try to process everything, trying to understand what Cayden’s trying to tell me, but I come up blank. How much can I take from a missing poster? All it has is my name and a photo of me as a child. There’s nothing else there.
“Don’t focus on it, love. It will come.”
But all I can do is focus on it, scrutinising every detail, trying to understand what I’m not seeing.
“Commander is here, we have to go,” Bella says, pulling me from my thoughts. I stand, placing the book back on the shelf before turning to Cayden.
“You’ll be okay?” he asks, moving a hand to cup my cheek, his thumb gently caressing.
“I’ll be okay.”
“You’re so much stronger than you give yourself credit for, you know that?”
My answer isn’t verbal. Every bone in my body wants to turn to jelly and collapse into his arms again. I have never felt the need to be weak, to let someone else take control, but for some reason with Cayden, I feel safe too. He holds me still and keeps me up with a hand on my hip before pulling me into his chest, his hand moving from my cheek to the back of my head.
“You’re going to be okay. I promise, you will be okay.” His whispers feel like a promise, one I know he can’t keep. Not when every day I get closer to being next on the list of missing girls. Not when they expect me to fail, to not bring them the information they want.
“I’m scared,” I whisper aloud for the first time.
