by Dylan Steel
His lips thinned to a flat line. “A question which you’ve asked and I’ve answered. I suppose it was a mistake to think you might actually try to get to know me better.”
“But you haven’t told me the real reason,” she protested.
“I have. My answer hasn’t changed, but evidently, you still don’t believe it. And if that’s the case, there’s little point in continuing this exercise.”
“I’m sorry,” she said hastily. “It’s just—I don’t understand. I don’t get—why did you ask to be paired with me?”
“Believe it or not, I care enough about you to not want you dead.”
“But you tethered me.”
“Because you forced my hand,” he said in a low voice.
She snapped her mouth closed. She’d pushed too far. Swallowing hard, she tried again. “What if I hadn’t?”
“It does little good to dwell on what-ifs.”
Her brow furrowed. “Are you really saying you never wish you could go back and change anything?”
“Not at all. Just that wishing doesn’t do any good.”
“Why not? What if it changes how a person acts going forward? Is it worth it then?”
“Possibly, in one sense. But that does not alter or negate a person’s previous actions.”
Sage caught her lower lip between her teeth, dropping her attention to the roof beneath her feet.
“Do you really expect to be able to change my mind?” Weston asked gently. “When not an hour ago you told all of La N’bo how you felt about me?”
She looked up, catching a glimpse of something that might have been called empathy in his expression.
“I don’t want to be tethered,” she whispered. The night air took her words, carrying them across the vast open sky. It didn’t matter. Her confessions, her pleas—nothing reached ears that would really hear her pain. Despite the man at her side, she was alone.
Weston said nothing, but he reached out and took her hand, pulling her closer to the edge of the roof. He closed his eyes, breathing deep as he turned his face to the sky. Her toes brushed against the base of the railing, and her gaze darted around nervously until she realized he had no intention of letting go. Coaxing the tension from her shoulders, she forced them to relax, letting them droop a little.
“We all have regrets, Sage,” he finally said, breaking the silence.
“Even you?”
“Especially me.”
If not for the profound sadness that filled his eyes, she wouldn’t have believed him. It vanished as quickly as it had appeared. “But we can’t change the past,” he continued. “We can only move forward. Hope we can make enough changes to make up for we’ve done wrong in the past.”
Sage breathed out slowly, letting her gaze drift to their intertwined hands. Their fates were connected in a way she never could have foreseen. He wanted her to think that she couldn’t change it, but he was wrong. She would find a way out of the tether and out of his life once and for all.
And the only way to be free of him was to play along. No matter how much it grated painfully against everything inside her, she needed to become the confidant he wanted. She needed to try harder, or she’d be stuck in a short lifetime of resentment.
“Did…” she cleared her throat as she gathered the courage to broach a new subject, “… did you find out any more about the ordezko?”
His expression clouded. “There was nothing new to learn about the ordezko. It’s done.” A pensive look fell over his face as he stopped talking, staring off into the distance.
“But…?” Sage prompted.
Weston’s eyes snapped back to hers as if he’d just realized she was still standing on the rooftop with him. “Why the sudden interest?”
She shrugged. “Guess I’m just trying to make some changes.”
He nodded thoughtfully, squeezing her hand a little tighter, making her heart beat faster. She hoped he meant what he’d said—that he didn’t want her dead—that he wasn’t about to yank her forward and throw her off the roof. It would be so easy, and there was nothing she would be able to do to stop him. She exhaled slowly, willing her overactive imagination to calm down.
“You may have been right.”
Her forehead wrinkled in confusion. “About what?”
“Mr. Gaztok is making some unusual moves—especially now that he has the authority of the Quorum behind him.
She looked at him sharply. Mr. Gaztok had never been someone to underestimate, and he was more powerful now than ever. “Unusual how?”
“I believe he’s—”
The rest of his sentence was drowned out by a sudden, deep clap of energy. Sage cried out, wincing at its ear-shattering volume.
Time slowed down. The roof trembled violently beneath their feet as a burst of heat slammed into them. It knocked both of them back, sending them sprawling across the roof. Metal wrenched and groaned as flames snapped nearby. A twisted metal bar knocked against the roof near where they’d been standing and skittered toward them, gouging a fiery rut along the once-smooth rooftop.
Sage tried to scramble to her feet, but Weston’s arm lay heavy across her chest, holding her down. Her motions felt sluggish as she rolled her head toward him. “Let me up.”
“Stay down,” he growled. She could barely hear him over the ringing in her ears, but the message was clear enough.
Weston pulled his feet under him and crouched low, easing the two of them away from the flames licking at the edge of the roof. When they reached the door, he straightened cautiously and helped her stand. “Start heading down the stairs. I’ll be right behind you.”
Her fingers tangled in his shirt, stopping him. Fear flashed in her eyes as she looked up at him. “What are you—”
A second explosion ripped through the air. Weston stepped in front of Sage and braced an arm against the wall as he wrapped himself around her, blocking her view of the burning tower beside them. Not that she would’ve seen anything anyway. Her face was smashed against his chest as she held her breath. Smoking debris launched at them, trailing thick black plumes through the air.
“Agghhh.” Sage moaned as something connected solidly with her leg, pushing her back against the bricks. A burst of pain cracked its way up her bones as her muscles gave out, making her knee buckle beneath her weight.
Weston caught her elbow. “Inside,” he ordered, motioning to the stairwell. His attention quickly switched back to the tower.
Sage’s heart began pounding even harder when she realized that he wasn’t planning on following her.
“You can’t—the tether—” she choked through the smoke billowing around them.
He hesitated, glancing back over his shoulder in a moment of indecision, then threw open the door. Grabbing her hand, he lunged forward into the staircase, dragging her with him.
She bit back a cry of pain as she hobbled down the stairs as fast as she could, dragging her injured leg behind her. “Wes—stop—I—”
Weston turned toward her. His hand clamped around her arm, stopping her motion. His gaze raked over her body, halting just below her knee.
Alarmed eyes snapped back to her. “You’re hurt.”
“I’m fine. I just can’t go as fast.” Sage lifted her chin stubbornly and tried to hop down another step. The movement wasn’t graceful at all. Her strong foot slipped and her injured leg flung itself forward, collapsing under the slightest pressure. She would’ve found herself laid out on the floor if not for Weston’s grip on her tightening, keeping her upright.
“Rox,” he muttered under his breath, brows dipping as he glanced around furtively.
She looked at him in surprise. Even with the building burning beside them, she was surprised to see him to lose his composure. He’d always been the pinnacle of levelheadedness.
“Does it hurt?”
When she hesitated, he narrowed his eyes. “Be honest.”
“Yeah,” she admitted, hopping down the next step deliberately.
“Tha
t’s good,” he said appraisingly as he gave one quick nod. “But you can’t walk on it like that.”
“I—” She stopped herself when Weston yanked off his shirt. “What in Eprah’s name—”
He tore his shirt into strips without taking his eyes off her leg. Kneeling in front of her, he tied it around her calf, cinching it tight.
An angry hiss escaped her lips as a fresh jolt of pain electrified what felt like every nerve ending she had from head to toe.
“Well, I could before you—ooh!”
Smoky shadows whirled around Sage’s face as her body swung into the air. Weston bounced her twice, adjusting her torso around his shoulders before taking off down the stairs again.
“Put me down!” Sage wanted to fight him, but the rational part of her brain knew it would only slow both of them down—not to mention the fact that he’d somehow managed to further injure her leg. Pain radiated through her leg around the tight strips of cloth.
Weston’s only response was a grunt. She squeezed her eyes shut and kept her mouth tightly closed, fighting the tumbling sensation in her stomach as they flew down the stairs. The building groaned. Sage could practically hear its bones trembling around them—though it might have been the thundering footsteps of workers and residents as they fled.
The noise grew louder and the voices more frantic the lower they went, but she kept her eyes closed. Her stomach hadn’t settled in the slightest—if anything, the pain had twisted it into bigger knots—and she didn’t trust herself not to make things worse.
By the time she realized they were no longer descending, the heat had receded so much that she was beginning to feel almost cool. Forcing her eyes open, she realized they were walking down a long, narrow corridor. Whether it was simply dim or her eyes were still hazy from smoke, she couldn’t tell, but she saw enough to know one thing: They weren’t in the stairwell anymore—maybe not even in the building.
“Weston?” she spoke through clenched teeth as she fought the pain.
No answer.
“Weston.”
He grunted.
“Weston, you can put me down now.”
“Not yet.”
Sage squirmed in his grasp. “Please, Wes—”
His hold tightened around her wrists, eliciting a yelp.
“Knock it off,” he growled.
“This isn’t exactly comfortable, you know.”
“It’s not safe yet,” he said, picking up his pace. Of course, it was hard to tell exactly how fast he was walking given how much the world bounced and swayed around her, but considering the jarring pulse pounding in her leg, she was pretty sure she wasn’t imagining it.
“Are we still in the hospitality suite?”
“No.”
“Then why are we still going?”
He ignored her again.
“Weston, please. I—ahh—” Sage sucked in a sharp breath as another step jarred her leg. Agony sliced into her hip and back, and she arched her body against the pain.
They turned a corner, and their forward movement stopped abruptly. Easing her gently off his shoulders, Weston set her down, holding her waist firmly.
It was the only thing that stopped her from collapsing.
Pain throbbed in her leg around his cinched shirt and pulsed hard again somewhere behind her eyes. She tested putting some weight on her leg again and stifled a cry. If anything, it had gotten worse. She wouldn’t be walking for awhile.
“What are you doing? Don’t try to walk—you’ll only make it worse,” Weston said sharply, tightening his grasp on her.
Her face contorted in pain as she shifted her weight entirely to her good leg, bracing herself against her benefactor.
He held her closer, stroking her hair back from her face. “We can rest here,” he said calmly, “but not for long.”
Looking down for the first time since they’d been on the roof, Sage gasped, then paled, hands shaking. A thin piece of mangled metal was sticking out both sides of her calf. Thick, sticky blood covered most of her leg. A lot of it had already dried, but there was enough of a sheen to let her know she was still losing blood despite the tourniquet.
“Wes—”
His grip tightened around her shoulders. “I know.”
“I—”
“It could be a lot worse.”
“Worse? Really?” She tilted her head up at him in disbelief, unable to come up with a better retort.
Fierce determination flashed behind his eyes as he looked at her. “I can fix it. Just not here.”
Clenching her teeth, she braved another look at the metal lodged inside her. “But there’s a—”
“I know.”
“And you didn’t feel the need to tell me I had a chunk of the next building sticking out of my body?”
“I didn’t want you to worry.”
She let out a dry laugh as her breathing turned shallow, unable to hide her fear.
Weston put a hand under her chin, lifting her head until she met his eyes. “You’re going to be fine. I promise. But I need you to do everything I ask. Understood?”
She bit her lip and nodded, careful not to look down. The walls started spinning.
“Good.” He let out a slow breath and rolled his shoulders. “Now I need to get you somewhere where I can help you. Which means I need you to stop fighting me.”
Blinking, she nodded again, more slowly this time.
“Sage?” Despite his outward composure, there was a hint of concern in Weston’s voice.
“Yeah?” The word felt heavy as it rolled off her tongue. She rolled her head back to get a better view of his face, but all she saw was a set of worried blue eyes looking back at her before the world dimmed around her.
The last thing she felt was Weston’s arms around her, scooping her back onto his shoulders as he set off again into the darkness.
17. RUN
Voices spoke in hushed tones nearby. Sage blinked, trying to focus her bleary eyes. She was too far away to hear what they were saying, but she could’ve sworn she heard her name.
Her memories rushed back, and she sucked in a nervous breath as the explosions replayed in her mind. She wiggled her toes on both feet, hoping she could still feel the movement. Needle-like pain pierced her calf and thigh, ebbing into a dull ache once she stopped moving. Exhaling shakily, she allowed tears to fill her eyes.
Lifting her head, she looked around the small room. Other than the bed she was stretched out on, there was just a small bedside table and stool. Nothing fancy.
Biting the inside of her lip, she finally allowed her gaze to travel down her leg. The piece of metal was gone, and in its place was a real bandage wrapped in a thick circle from knee to ankle. She squeezed her eyes shut in relief. Her leg hurt, but that was ok—it meant she hadn’t lost it.
Dropping her head back against the pillow, she let her fingers wander over her bracelet out of habit. Weston had to be close by.
She glanced around the room again. It wasn’t lavish enough to be part of the Bennick estate, and it wasn’t nearly sterile enough to be a hospital room. She frowned. There was absolutely nothing familiar about it—except for the fact that it actually reminded her a little bit of the apartment she’d shared with Everett.
That thought brought a fresh wave of guilt and grief with it. Tears streamed down her cheeks, wetting her pillow.
She smeared the back of her hand across her face. She needed to think about something else. Anything else.
Blowing out a deep breath, Sage pushed herself up into a sitting position. She had no idea where she was, but she wasn’t about to stay put until someone decided to check on her.
Scooting forward, she swung her uninjured leg over the bed. She winced. Apparently, even the slightest motion would set off a fresh round of pain. She dug her fingers deep into the covers and gritted her teeth, bracing herself for the pain as she started dragging her foot toward herself.
Her breathing quickened. Agony sliced its way deep into muscle and bon
e, and she froze, biting back a cry.
“Sage.”
Weston’s deep bellow sounded from the doorway. She’d know it anywhere, but she kept her eyes fixed on her shaking leg.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Well,” she grunted, wincing as she eased her heel another inch, “I was going to go find you, but I guess I need a backup plan now.”
He was by her side in an instant, hands wrapped under her knee and heel. “Relax,” he ordered. “You’re not ready to move this on your own yet.”
“It’s fine,” she gasped through the pain as he stretched her leg back out in front of her.
“I’m not arguing with you over this, Sage. As your doctor—and your benefactor—I’m going to insist that you stay still.”
She tossed an angry glare at him just so he would know he hadn’t won the argument easily. He looked back at her with a bored expression, and she let her shoulders droop in defeat. She’d have to save her stubbornness for another time.
“So what happened?” She nodded to her leg.
His brows furrowed. “I think it hit you in the second explosion, but I figured you had a better idea.”
“No, I mean…” she gestured around the room at nothing in particular, “… I passed out. Then…?”
“Then, I brought you here and pulled part of the building out of your leg,” he said dryly.
“Where is ‘here’?”
“You don’t need to worry about that.”
Sage frowned. “Well, it’s obviously not the hospital…”
“No.” Weston flexed his fingers. “We’re with some friends of mine. People I can trust. That’s all you need to know.”
“You’re not going to introduce me?”
“No.”
Her eyebrow shot up.
He sighed. “Sage, someone just tried to kill me. I’m working on getting us out of the city, but we’re not in a position to—”
“Why do you think someone was trying to kill you?” Dread settled low in her belly as she shot him an uneasy look.
His jaw worked back and forth a few times. “My friends are getting their hands on transportation. Now that I know you’re alright, we can leave the city.”
