by Stacey Kade
I started to argue.
He touched my mouth lightly with his fingertips, and I tried hard not to revel in the feeling. “And if you don’t want GTX to find me while I’m there,” he said, “then maybe you should just come with me.”
“So they can catch both of us? No thanks.”
“Where else are you going to go?” he asked quietly.
That was a good—and very painful—point.
He leaned closer, and I closed my eyes, feeling my resistance weakening. “Come on. After what I’ve seen tonight, I’m thinking you might have some ideas about how to keep GTX off our backs,” he said.
I half laughed, half choked. “I bet.”
“And you’ll like my mom,” he continued. “I’m pretty sure she thinks foosball is an exercise in futility too.”
I opened my eyes, startled. He remembered our silly conversation about eternal questions.
He held his hand out to me with an encouraging nod, and my vision went blurry with tears.
He’d come to GTX for me. If I left him unprotected now, he would pay for it. But if I went with him, I didn’t know what would happen. I had no idea what I was doing. Everything I’d ever known lay in pieces behind me, including the Rules I’d devoted my life to following.
But beneath the fear I could feel the start of something new and thrilling growing, pressing for attention. I’d be running, yes. At least, at first. But with that came a chance to start over. Freedom. Choices. And maybe someday a life without GTX looming in the distance.
I just had to reach for it. And wasn’t that the point of living outside of my GTX cage? So I could make those choices?
“Okay,” I said, taking Zane’s hand and lacing my fingers through his. Palm to palm. “Let’s go.”
