Article 5 (Article 5 #1)(69)



“You hit a soldier?” I squeaked. This could mean terrible consequences if we were caught.

“Didn’t see too many other options,” he said. I heard him change shirts and grunt as the fabric scraped the wound on his arm. “One of them said, ‘It’s him,’ and reached for his weapon. That bastard and his wife must have known it was us before the news report.”

I nodded but then realized he couldn’t see me. “They thought they’d get a reward,” I said aloud. We got a thousand dollars for the last soldier, Patrick had said. Who knows? Maybe they’ll kick in a bonus for the girl. Knowing our lives had a price tag, one that could keep a family housed and fed, made me nauseous.

Chase swore softly, and I could feel this fact settle on him, sink into his pores. When he continued, his tone was bleak.

“One of them shut the lights off. It didn’t work out like they hoped. I took off out the back, and that’s when I found you.”

“I shut the lights off,” I confessed.

“You what?”

“I cut the power to the generator.”

“You…” A long beat passed before he slowly approached and placed his hands on my shoulders. The confusion reflecting from his dark eyes made me uncomfortable. Here he was again, touching me while his mind disagreed with his actions.

“You’re shivering,” he said anxiously. I shook out of his grip, but it was too late. All the feelings I’d been trying to stuff away since his good-bye kiss came pouring back. The longing and the hope. The rejection. All magnified by the fact that we were now barred from Lewisburg and, it felt, my mother, too. He seemed to sense something was off and lowered his face to mine.

“Hey, are you —”

I slapped him.

We sat in stunned silence for a full three seconds before he spoke.

“Damn. That was fast.”

“That’s all you’ve got to say for yourself?” I nearly shouted at him. My hand stung just enough to tell me it hadn’t shattered in the cold.

He floundered. “I … I guess. What exactly was that for?”

“You know what it’s for,” I accused furiously. “How dare you do … that … after … you know!”

“I don’t know,” he said bluntly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You kissed me!”

He faltered back a step, and I heard the breath whistle through his teeth.

“You didn’t seem to mind so much at the time.”

I growled at him and then grabbed the bag and violently zipped it shut. “I was thinking you were someone else.” The old you.

He snatched the bag out of my hands and shoved it onto his back. Then he shook it off, remembering we weren’t going anywhere, and slammed it down on the ground.

“I told you,” he said in a low voice. “He’s gone. That’s over.”

I fought back the tears and spun away from him. Chase’s acknowledgment of the two separate entities within himself should have made me feel better, but it only made me feel worse. I couldn’t stand being near him any longer. Dawn couldn’t come fast enough.

“Ember, wait,” Chase called. He snagged my arm and held fast. Reluctantly, I turned, but I refused to look up and meet his eyes.

“Look … I know you’re torn up about him. He’s probably fine,” he said, frustrated.

He’s probably fine?

“What do you … who are you talking about?” I thought he’d understood that we were talking about the Chase who cared for me and the Chase who didn’t, but he was referring to someone else entirely. I felt the slow burn of oncoming humiliation.

“The guard from reform school. Isn’t that who you’re talking about?”

“Sean?” I asked, baffled. And then I remembered. Randolph, in the shack, had insinuated that I’d messed around with a guard when Chase had inquired, and then later I’d reinforced that fallacy when I’d asked Chase what would happen to a soldier caught with a resident. With everything that had happened, he remembered that?

I felt only a breath of embarrassment, because immediately after that came my awareness of the insult.

“You think I would have let you kiss me if I was with somebody else?”

“It’s not like you had much of a choice,” he said indignantly.

“I’m not some three-dollar hooker!” I blurted. “I don’t know who you’re used to spending your time with, but—”

“Hold on—”

“You! You kissed me thinking I was with someone else! What kind of person does that make you, huh?”

“Hold on!” he interrupted. I had encroached on his personal space in my anger, and now we were only inches apart. “First, I know you’re not easy; you’re actually the most difficult person I’ve ever met. Second, I never claimed to be a good person. And third, if you weren’t talking about Sean, who the hell were you talking about?”

“That’s…” I stammered. “That’s none of your business,” I said evasively.

“If you’re thinking of another guy while I’m kissing you, I’m pretty sure it is my business,” he said heatedly.

“Not anymore it’s not! Why do you care anyway?”

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