Rebellion (The 100 #4)(42)

“I’ve never seen Eric scared,” Clarke said firmly. “I’ll bet he’s being strong and brave, just like he always is.”

When Felix turned back, there were tears glistening in his eyes. “I’m sure he is.” He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “I just hope he knows we haven’t given up on them.”

“I’m sure he knows that,” Clarke said, glancing over her shoulder toward their camp, where Bellamy was still shackled to the pile of rusty metal. “That’s not what we do.”

Clarke gave the edge of the camp a wide berth as she walked around it. She would just take a quick peek at Bellamy… long enough to know he was bearing up okay, short enough to avoid the feeling of her heart ripping out of her chest, that stabbing sensation that crept up on her pretty much every time she thought about him.

She’d expected to see him sleeping or staring dead-eyed into the treetops while Jessa guarded him from a distance, like an hour ago, the last time she’d peeked. But this time, Jessa was crouched beside Bellamy, near enough to touch him, their heads leaning close as they spoke in hushed murmurs.

Clarke started, stumbling a little where she stood. It was stupid. It was nothing. And yet, it was such a strangely intimate scene that Clarke felt her stomach churn with a mixture of hurt and betrayal. Not that she had any right to feel betrayed after what she’d done to him.

Jessa glanced over her shoulder and Clarke rearranged her face into something approaching neutral. But if it was for Bellamy’s benefit, she shouldn’t have bothered. He turned away without so much as a blink in her direction as Jessa rose, crossing over to Clarke in four long strides.

“Is Vale back yet?” the Earthborn girl asked brusquely.

Clarke had to swallow to find her voice again, recovering from the feeling of having had it punched out of her throat. “Not yet. Soon, we hope.”

“And if she doesn’t come back? If neither of them do, what then?” Jessa’s voice rose, and Bellamy’s head tilted casually toward them, clearly listening. So this must’ve been what they were talking about. “Do we go with Bellamy’s plan?”

“I… I’m not sure…” Clarke’s skin grew prickly hot as she shifted uneasily.

“Because I for one am getting pretty tired of sitting around here doing nothing.” Jessa pointed east. “My brother is in that building, maybe alive, maybe dead, I don’t know. All I know is, the longer we wait, the worse his odds are.”

“I realize that,” Clarke said quietly.

“Do you?” Jessa’s dark eyes locked with hers. “Then what’s our plan B? What do we do now, tonight, if negotiations fall apart?”

Bellamy turned and fixed Clarke with a stare—his expression totally empty, as though she was just one of the trees in the forest.

“She’s back!” Paul’s voice rang out way too loud, echoing through the forest, sending birds scattering from their perches, but for once, Clarke didn’t care.

Because Paul sounded happy.

Her pulse raced with hope as she ran toward the campsite, Jessa on her heels. But before they’d taken two steps, Vale and Paul intercepted them, Paul tugging the panting Earthborn behind him by the elbow.

“Tell her!” he said, exultant.

“Cooper… he did it like we… planned,” Vale got out between huffs, managing a faint smile. “He walked up. They came out… with guns…”

Clarke waited for her to catch her breath, trying to be patient.

“But they saw that he was unarmed… so they lowered them,” Vale said.

Clarke exhaled.

Vale glanced at Paul. “I wasn’t close enough to hear what they said, but they listened to him and they opened the door and walked with him into the building. No cuffs, no violence. So far, so good. Now I guess we wait to see what they say.”

Clarke felt her whole body tingle in a waterfall of relief. She drew a breath to thank Vale, but before she could get the words out, Paul lunged for her and wrapped Clarke up in a hug so tight, it lifted her heels off the ground.

“It’s working,” he said into her ear, then planted a kiss on her cheek. “We’re gonna get them back.”

As Paul turned away to clap a hand on Vale’s back and lead her toward the heart of the campsite, Clarke wiped her cheek dry, fighting a shudder that was partly nerves, partly something new.

He’s just an enthusiastic guy, she told herself. He got caught up in the moment.

She felt eyes on her back and turned to see Bellamy watching her with an inscrutable expression.

There came that stabbing feeling again, a sharp pain that started between her ribs and bloomed into something that would destroy her if she let it.

She wouldn’t let it.

She blinked back at Bellamy, chin high, and walked away.





CHAPTER 22


Bellamy


Bellamy’s body felt as if it was full of glass shards. His arms were aching, his wrists raw meat, his spine wrenched crookedly against the metal beam that held him. But none of that compared to the pain he felt watching Clarke turn her back on him again.

Bellamy had been watching Paul this whole time. He wasn’t the cheerful team player he pretended to be. He was a manipulative snake who had his eyes on Clarke.

I need to warn her, he thought, before remembering that Clarke was no longer his responsibility. She’d made that much clear.