I can’t tell him I’m normal. My every action will contradict that. But I need him to trust me.
More than that, Iwanthim to trust me.
“I’m not your enemy,” I say quietly.
His eyes never leave mine. “Then what are you doing here?”
That is the question, isn’t it?
“I’m trying to do better,” I say. The words slip out—I don’t mean to say them. I expect Eames to frown, to demand an explanation. Because if I’m trying to do better, that means I’m a bad person.
But to my surprise, he nods. “Aren’t we all,” he says quietly.
For a few moments, neither of us speaks. I look down at the bloodied washcloth in one hand and the defrosting bag of peas in the other. As much as I want to, I can’t stay here. I force myself to rise, setting the bag and cloth on the counter. There is a cupboard close to Eames’s elbow, and I carefully reach for it. Inside, Nonna keeps an assortment of over-the-counter medications. I pull out a bottle of painkillers, swallow two, and drink directly from the sink to wash them down.
“All right,” I say, straightening. I pick up my visor, slip it back into place, and run a hand through my hair. “I’m going back out there. You keep an eye on everyone in here, all right?” I pass by him and walk past the living room.
Before I can get to the front door, Eames takes hold of my arm.
He looks down at me. His face is drawn in lines of fear and bedrock determination.
“I’m coming with you,” he says.
Aunt Connie lurches to her feet. “Eames, no.”
“What she said,” I say, pointing at her. “But add an expletive in the middle.”
“You can’t do this alone,” says Eames. “There are five of them and one of you. What you’re doing is brave—but you’re going to get yourself killed. At least take me with you. I can be a distraction.” The corners of his mouth twitch into a self-deprecating smile.
I squint at him. I know so little about Eames—only that he’s a recent high school graduate, he lives with his aunt and sister, and he prefers to stay out of the water while teaching a kid to swim. I know that he put himself between his sister and an armed killer and that he was willing to jump from a three-story balcony to keep her safe.
The truth is, most people never know how they’ll react in life-or-death situations.
But I know how Eames will react. He’ll try to keep me safe.
I don’t deserve his protection.
“How old are you?” I ask. I know, but he doesn’t know that I know.
“How old are you?” he counters.
“Eighteen. As of a month ago.”
“Eighteen, as of three months ago,” he replies, then flashes me a lopsided grin. “I win.”
Warmth floods my cheeks, but I look away. I remember the last time a boy smiled at me like that. It didn’t end well for him.
“You’re not trained for this,” I say.
His gaze is steady on mine. “And you are?”
I can’t answer that—not without revealing too much. Instead, I bite down on my lip.
“You have any family?” he asks.
I don’t look at Nonna. She is listening to every word, but maybe I can pretend she isn’t there. “Yes. But… we’re not really on speaking terms.” It’s a simpler explanation than telling him that my entire family thinks I’m dead.
He nods. “I get that. Piper… she’s all I have left. I won’t lose her.” His gaze hardens, his mouth tightening. “Can you promise she’ll be safe, if we stay here and hide?”
