The Cross (Alliance Book 2) (18 page)

He watched the small group at the fire, chatting, as if nothing has changed, as if nobody was about to go into a heavily guarded Alliance metro, and he envied them the ability to not worry about things they couldn’t change.

He found Drake and took him aside.

“You need to talk some sense into Ams. She wants to come, and she won’t bloody listen to me. She doesn’t ever bloody listen to me. Please, talk to her.”

Drake smiled at him widely.

“I did, Riley. I talked to her and to Ella, and they’re coming with us. All of them, I think. I haven’t seen Laurel yet, she took off after Brody, but the other two already decided they’re coming. Nothing we can do to stop them. But I think we can help them stay safe if we take a few days to teach them to shoot and use a knife or something, so they can at least defend themselves a little bit.”

And he had the gall to smile at him while he said it. He hit him, couldn’t stop hitting him, throwing useless punches into the giant’s chest.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you let Ella go with you, to Crylo of all places? Are you bloody trying to get her killed? I won’t let you, Drake. You can’t take her with us, you just can’t!” He dropped his hands. There was no point, he knew that.

Drake grabbed his face and leaned in close, “I love Ella with all my heart, more than I ever loved anybody, more than I ever thought I could love anybody, but I love her for who she is. You need to learn to do that, and fast, by the looks of it. It’ll kill me if I can’t keep her safe, it’ll completely destroy me, but I won’t ever presume to ask her not to make her own choices. Don’t ever ask me to do that to someone I love,” and he let his face go and walked back to the fire.

And after all the anger left him he finally knew why Brody was so hurt, and why everybody he tried to protect was pushing him away. He was trying to protect himself this whole time, and he felt every shade of stupid for not realizing this before, when Ams still talked to him in the way she used to, not her new, angry way, and when Brody still trusted him enough to take him at his word. Trusted him enough to never put a slave band on his wrists.

F
RAGILE

Amelia

[
May 20, 2236, Woods Outside Waller
]

He looked fragile when he woke her up, shaking her softly, telling her they had to talk. He wouldn’t look at her for the longest time, just kept putting sticks into the fire, trying to get it going enough. She hoped nothing new happened with him and Brody, though she hadn’t seen Brody at all after whatever happened between him and Laurel. She saw Laurel crying half the night last night, but she wouldn’t talk to her, wouldn’t talk to anybody, but Laurel, too, was gone now. Something else then. She waited, and finally grabbed his hand and made him stop throwing sticks in and sit down next to her.

“You woke me up to talk, Riley, so talk,” she said softly, she hoped.

“I know, Ams. I’m sorry. I just don’t know how to say it yet.” His head was down, not looking at her, making her feel on edge.

“I’m going back to sleep, if you can’t just spit it out,” and she got up, looking at him. He didn’t move. And she was suddenly really worried something terrible happened, somebody died kind of terrible, Trina terrible. She crouched in front of him and put her hands on his face. It felt too warm against her hands, and she could feel wetness on it.

“Riley… Whatever it is, you can tell me. I promise I won’t get angry at you.”

And he did then, in one long stream. Told her everything he did that he never felt the wrongness in until after talking to Drake the night before, and then thinking about all of it since, about what he did to her and to Brody, and even Laurel. How he was trying so hard to protect everybody, to keep them safe, that he didn’t once think about what it was doing to them, and that in the end he was just trying to make sure he never lost anybody again, and that it made him feel like a selfish asshole, and he wouldn’t blame any of them for not wanting to trust him ever again. How he was pretty sure Brody never would trust him after what he did to him, wouldn’t ever forgive him for it. And how he knew now that he has been unfair to her this whole time, in the way he was with her….

He looked at her finally, eyes serious and sad, and took her hands away from his face, gently, “I won’t try to stop you from coming to Crylo with us, Ams, or anything else you want to do ever again, I swear. And I’ll keep you safe if I can, if you let me… If you still want me to. But I don’t think you should be with me anymore,” and he stood up, keeping his head down, hands behind his back, not looking at her.

She took the small step to him and wrapped her hands around his neck, trying to get him to look at her, but he wouldn’t move, and she could see tears making wet tracks down his face. She never saw him like this before and it scared her. She put her hands in his hair, running her fingers through the waves, softly, not saying anything to him, letting him cry. He was breathing hard, and she was pretty sure she was hurting him, not comforting him, but he still didn’t move. He could have run or walked away if he needed to. She almost wished he had, so she could have some time to try to figure this out, but by now she knew he wouldn’t. She could lie to him and tell him that he didn’t do anything to make her angry; that she was okay with him telling her what she could and couldn’t do, as if he did own her, but that would be unfair to him too. She couldn’t ever lie to him, they made that promise a long time ago. No more secrets.

“I really need you to look at me, Riley. I know why you don’t want to already, so you’re not hiding anything, but you owe me that much if you’re going to try to break up with me.”

He looked at her, not even bothering to dry his eyes, and she couldn’t take it for another moment, the hurt on his face. She reached up on her toes and kissed him, softly, looking into his eyes with all the tears in them. She felt him flinch, but he still didn’t move away, and his hands were still firmly behind his back, and she knew what he was doing then. That he would let her do whatever she thought she needed to do to let him go, to be okay with letting him go. She could hit him or kiss him and any of it would hurt him now, and he would let her, for as long as she needed to. Riley, punishing himself for not being as bloody good as he wanted to be. Punishing himself for what he did to Brody. And she was finally angry at him, angry enough to want to hit him. He must have read it in her face. His head went down a little and he took a small step back.

“Go ahead, Ams.” His voice quiet, strained.

But she couldn’t hit him. That would make it too easy for him, and she didn’t want this to be easy.

“I am not going to hit you. But I will tell you what I think, and you are going to let me, and you’re going to look at me.”

He was looking at her.

“I think you’re still being a selfish asshole. You’re pushing me away to protect yourself, you just don’t see it. You’re doing what I tried to do to you when I thought there was something wrong with me for kicking Keller like that. That’s what you’re doing, only you think you’re being noble and decent, but you are not. There is nothing noble in this. You don’t get to walk away from people who care about you because you feel like shit for something you did to them. Not unless you are a bloody coward, and I never pinned you for one before.”

She watched his face, flushed now as if she did hit him, but the tears were gone.

“Are you done, Ams?” he asked very quietly, and she could feel the rage in his voice, knew him well enough to feel that by now.

“No, Riley. Not done. What you did to me is nowhere near as bad as what you did to Brody, and I know you know that. But you’re taking all your guilt out on me. If you want him to forgive you, then bloody talk to him, and maybe he will. Maybe he already has. But this, what you’re doing, it’s wrong, Riley. It’s not fair to either of us, because it’s all based on a lie. I know I don’t own you any more than you own me and I would never presume to tell you what you can and can’t do. If you need to walk away from me, then do that, but it’ll be you walking away, not me. I won’t do that for you.”

She took a small step towards him and he froze. She didn’t even get a chance to touch him. He looked so hurt, she felt bad for saying all of this, but he needed to hear it. And she knew she meant it, all of it. She wasn’t trying to hurt him.

“I won’t touch you if you can’t bear it, Riley. And I am sorry for hurting you, I really am, but I can’t have any secrets with us. Even if we’re not together after this, I won’t ever lie to you… I’m done now.” She watched him turn around and run into the woods, not even on a trail, and after a while she heard strange, thumping sounds coming out of there, as if he were punching trees. And suddenly she could picture him doing just that, punching trees with his bare hands, probably breaking his hands on them. She couldn’t help going after him, hoping she could find him in the darkness. She did, by the awful sounds that made her flinch every time she heard one.

He was standing in a tiny clearing, his back to her, not hearing her come in, and punching a giant tree that wasn’t a birch, hard, over and over again, not even stopping to breathe. She ran up to him and threw her arms around his back, pulling him away from it, and he didn’t fight her, but he wouldn’t look at her either, hands in fists at his sides, and she couldn’t see what he did to them in the dark. She walked him back to the fire, and he let her, and she could see it all then, his bloody knuckles sticking out, skin torn in too many places, him not looking at any of it, staring at the flames, and breathing like his heart was going to explode.

“Please, don’t move, Riley. I’ll be right back,” she whispered and ran to the flier to get the med kit.

He was sitting just as she left him when she got back, bloodied hands still in fists, staring at the fire, not watching her. She put the kettle on to heat up some water, not saying anything, not quite knowing what to say to him now. She just wanted to fix the pain, even if she couldn’t fix anything else.

She crouched in front of him and took his hands gently by the wrists, “I need to get all the dirt and tree stuff out first,” and she put them into a bowl of steaming hot water, knowing it was hurting him, but he didn’t flinch, didn’t move at all, while she picked out all the pieces of dirt and wood splinters, watching the water turn pink. She looked at his hands, clean now, still bleeding hard.

“I have to stitch some of this up, Riley.”

She looked up at his face, trying to make him look at her. He was shaking his head. Some of the holes he made were definitely too deep to heal on their own. She made him look at his hands, and he was still shaking his head at her. He had to see that she needed to do this. It didn’t make any sense for him to not let her, and after what he just did to himself, she knew it wasn’t the pain of a few stitches.

“Riley, I have to, or it’s not going to heal,” she said softly.

He looked at her finally, eyes full of water, “I don’t want it to heal, Ams,” a pained whisper, and he put his head down, his hands shaking in hers.

She let his hands go and pulled his head into her chest, pressing him against her with everything she had.

“I’m not going anywhere, Riley, I promise you I’m not, not unless you really want me to, and I don’t think you do. But you do need to figure out you and Brody, so it’s not killing you like this; so you can live with yourself. You did hurt him worse than I ever saw anyone hurt before, but that boy loves you. I think he’s already forgiven you for all of it, only you wouldn’t know it because you are too scared to ask him, and I can’t help you with that… And he is not in the flier, so you can’t do anything about it now anyway. Please, let me stitch you up, and we can maybe catch what little sleep we have left. I plan on putting lots and lots of holes into trees with those guns you are all so fond of tomorrow, and I’d rather be awake enough for it, so I don’t accidentally shoot somebody.”

He put his hands out in front of him after a while, and nodded to her, closed his eyes, and didn’t move or saying anything after that.

He let her walk him to the flier afterwards, still not saying a word, and she went to sleep in the seat next to his, with her head on his chest, his bandaged hand around her shoulder, and she could tell he stayed up for a long time just looking at her, could feel him watching her. And when she came down to the fire the next morning, he and Brody were gone, and she hoped that whatever it was Riley was telling him would make it all right for them in the end, hoped that Brody wouldn’t punish him for it as much as Riley did last night.

That Brody was as good as Laurel and Ella and Drake thought he was, Riley good, even if he didn’t know it.

T
AMED

Brody

[
May 20, 2236, Woods Outside Waller
]

“I need to show you something,” Laurel said, smiling, standing right next to him. He didn’t even hear her walking through the woods. She moved like Drake in that way, silent like a ghost. Nice skill to have, he thought, the soldier in him. She turned the ray on, holding it out in front of her, and took him by the hand. They walked on a tiny trail that looked brand new, the brush and the grass not nearly packed in enough, and after a while they were in a small clearing, no birches, just elms and oaks.

She shined her ray around them, and then stuck it in the ground and turned it on high. He didn’t know what he was supposed to be looking at. There were just trees and grass. She walked over to one of the trees, and pointed, and he saw it: scorch marks and bullet holes inside circles drawn with a burn pen, and a few, very few marks and holes outside the circles. She was showing him a target.