“Starless?”
The way that name wraps around me in barbed wire. The edges breaking skin, tearing through, and making me uneasy with the heady feel of his care.
His face softens a smidgen, the way he peers at me with gentleness makes me wonder how the fuck he has emotions at all. How can he care? He’s heartless. Without a soul. How else could he fuck my best friend?
“What?!” I yell, feeling my mind pulling at things. Things that don’t exist and I don’t remember. None of this makes fucking sense.
“We really need to go, please.”
That one word, please. It’s not a word he willingly offers me.
“Why?” I don’t mean for it to sound like a whine, but the exhaustion of the rampant thoughts in my mind beat at me like my fist does when I can’t cut and feel the urge to feel pain on a more visual level.
“They want to hurt you. Trust me.”
“Trust you,” I reply sardonically. Does he not see the irony? He steps closer to me again, touching my face. His fingers hold me as much as his palms, and the way I get lost in his gaze, the empowering way he holds me close, I love that about him.
“Please, Starless.”
“Let me get dressed first,” I implore, and he nods, letting me go.
“Bring a couple of extra outfits. We’ll need them.”
“I don’t even have a phone or my passport. Please say we won’t need them.”
“We’ll come to that crossroad when or if it’s necessary. Just get your stuff and we’ll run.”
“Run?” I ask
Not knowing what else to say to that, I head to the closet and put on some jeans. I’m lucky they offered these, even if they’re not my go-to. They’re more like old-Colt.
I put on a sweater and hope we’re not going somewhere even hotter. I couldn’t deal with the heat with this on. Grabbing a large duffle bag they’ve allowed me, I fit a couple of outfits in and only take the sneakers on my feet. Essentials.
Before, I’d have begged him to help me run. Now that the time is here and I’m married, going back to school, and safe for the time being, I just don’t understand.
It’s not the life I’ve asked for, but it’s the one I’m given, and being normal for a moment seemed nice. And unrealistic as fuck.
Instead of dwelling, I come out to a pacing Bridger. I’ve never seen him unhinged, on edge, or even close to nervous. This erratic behavior is one of the only reasons I’ve agreed without argument. Something is off and if he’s worried, then I should be too.
Anything that could possibly make him unsure, it’s nothing pleasant.
He may be a major asshole, but he’s my asshole. My unfeeling sociopath. The one who somehow always protects me while scaring the shit out of me at the same time.
“Ready?”
It’s rhetorical, but I need him to see me.
“Yeah, yeah, let’s go,” I confirm, nodding my head to clear out the doubt. “We’re just going to walk out the front door?” He flinches at my words. Realizing my mistake, I apologize. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you think I believe you’re dumb. But what about Parris?” I know he’d help me, he’s practically confirmed it. “What about Noah?”
“He’s not here, he’s already gone.” Completely ignoring my other question, he grips my arm, moving through the halls and practically dragging me.
“What about Noah?” I question again, thinking of the only person I felt connected to on a soul-deep level, someone who has not only protected me when the nightmares became too much but taught me about the Emeralds when the teachers explained the farce history.
“She’s not coming,” he growls. I shake my arm free, smacking his hand when he reaches for me again.
“Why not?”
He temporarily stops, his face morphing into an annoyed sneer. “She’s. Not. Coming,” he bites out, his narrowed gaze forcing me to second-guess my fight reaction.
But no, Noah is important. Especially to me.
He lets out an exasperated breath when I continue to wait for his response, he’s more than likely realizing even when weak, scared, or worried, I’ll always stay stubborn.
Putting his hands in the air, he straightens and pinches the bridge of his nose. “She has other plans, Col. We need to fucking go.” The strain in his voice bothers me more than I care to admit, but regardless of his rushing, I need answers.
“What’s going on?” I say in the next breath. My anxiety cannot handle this kind of desperation and frantic movements.
“Nothing I can explain quickly enough to ensure you’re okay. We need to go.”
So, I follow him.
He unlocks a random door, opening to another hallway, weaving straight to the left. Solomon. I can’t leave him.
“Solomon, I can’t leave him.”
He shakes his head vehemently. “He’s gone too. We need to go.” His emphasis on the word go makes me so uneasy. Why is everyone already gone? Why am I the only one left?
“Is this Midas?” When he doesn’t respond, I tug on his arm. He peers back at me, his patience leaving with every second.
“No. Enough questions, you’re slowing us down.” He drags me through a corridor and it’s unfamiliar to me. Doesn’t mean much since I was kept in a fucking room ninety percent of the time. He weaves and enters a room. It’s office-like. The room reminds me of an old film. A library of sorts. He tugs a book from a shelf, and behind it is a button.
What the fuck.
How are we living some weird-ass dystopian where a library is a secret door to Narnia? Oh, wait. That was an armoire.
He opens the bookcase and forces me inside. When he’s behind me, he turns and touches a hand pad. He scans his hand and I’m even more confused.
“Okay, James Bond,” I joke, but feel anything but amused. If anything, this makes me most uneasy. Usually, he’d offer me a tilted smirk, or even a small smile. He’s not offering either. I don’t read books like Ten and Lux, I’m not that kind of nerd. I don’t have the security of knowing what happens next.
“We have about seven minutes to get to the underground route. It’s a long run. I know you’ve been off your game, but I really need you to try and keep up.”
I nod, swallowing my confusion and nerves, and he takes off. He’s so much faster than me. As we go, the lights turn on and we’re in a long tunnel. It seems to weave and somehow he knows where to go as if he’s traced this path so many times, he knows it by heart. After several minutes, I feel an ache in my lungs, a pain in my ribs, and a burning sensation across my entire body. I’m not only out of shape, I’ve been sick.