“That’s it, take your time.” Running my fingers through her hair, I watch her eyes start to droop again.
“You came after me?” Darlia asks, her voice breaking at the question, and fuck it breaks my heart.
“I never stopped looking for you, darling.”
I turn around before I say anything else, knowing Darlia can’t handle anything else right now. Instead I start to make her some food. There’s not a lot to work with considering the fact this is a regulated apartment. There are ration packs, a few granola bars, but no real food, not like Darlia deserves, not like she always has with me.
Is this the first time she’ll see how the Zoned citizens live?
Finding the best pack, I open a ration of pasta, heating it up and putting it in a bowl for Darlia. “It’s not going to be all that nice, but it’s something.”
Guilt seeps through me for giving her something of the New Order, anything less than she deserves. Much less on her birthday.
Wait. Fuck, that’s right.
I open the fridge and pull out the single cupcake I bought for her from the only bakery still left, and stick a candle that I smuggled back from the mansion on top, lighting it with my cigarette lighter. Candles and lighters aren’t allowed in the Zones.
“Happy birthday, love. You’re getting old.”
Darlia tries and fails to hold back a smile. I’ve never seen a better sight, not after everything she has been through. I want to be the cause of at least one of those smiles a day.
Darlia stares at the candle, confused, like she’s waiting for it to do something. I hold it up close to her.
“You blow it out, love.” I almost laugh at the way her brows knit in confusion. Her lips press together before they part, and she blows out the candle, the flame disappearing instantly.
Darlia looks up at Bella, waiting for confirmation that it’s safe most likely, before taking a bite. The frosting goes anywhere but her mouth, causing the guys to laugh at her, but I notice the way her eyes light up, the way her smile returns shamelessly.
She’s letting herself enjoy this moment, and right now that’s enough.
Tomorrow is going to be hell when Darlia remembers what she did, but that’s a problem for tomorrow. Right now, my girl is safe, happy, and alive, and that’s all I need.
Chapter 32:
Darlia
Sun glares through the window, down to the bed. Cayden is still asleep beside me, his soft snores filling the room. I lay there, watching his chest rise and fall for a moment. He really is beautiful. But I still haven’t forgiven him, not completely.
Cayden might not have known The Academy was coming to take me, but he knew them, he knew what they were capable of and what they can do. And still he left me in the dark, and even tried to stop Marcus from telling us.
Why wouldn’t he want us knowing? It makes no sense. It would’ve made me trust him more, understand him. If The Academy started with boys, why isn't he trying to stop them? Why is he just going to random galas and making a name for himself?
I can’t help but be mad. I trusted him with parts of myself I didn’t have to give. Not to mention he still has countless secrets I don’t know. I barely know anything about him, and despite Cayden saving my life, I still don’t know if I can trust him. Not completely.
Stepping out and walking into the guest bedroom, I make my way to Bella who is fast asleep in the only other bed in the apartment. Closing the door behind myself and getting into bed, I pull the blankets over my shoulders.
“D?” Bella groans, rolling over to face me.
“Yeah, it’s me,” I whisper, looking up at the ceiling. Bella sits up beside me, rubbing her eyes. Her hair is messy with sleep, and the shirt she slept in is wrinkled.
“Mad at him, huh?” she mumbles, a smirk pulling at her lips as Bella lays back down and looks at me.
“He didn’t tell me. How am I supposed to trust him after that?”
“Did you tell him who you were?”
Of course I didn’t. It’s The Academy’s number one rule: don’t reveal yourself. Why would I? I was trained for so long to believe everyone outside of the government was an enemy. I was protecting myself. But Cayden, Cayden was so young. He got out, he could’ve told me.
If I told you, you wouldn’t have believed me.
