Uninvited (Uninvited, #1)(83)

I tell myself that escaping here won’t land us in a bigger mess, in more danger. I close my eyes and rub the bridge of my nose. Not that I can change my mind now even if I wanted to. Sean is coming for me. I’m going with him. I promised. And I want to go.

My chest tightens, clenches and squeezes with the desperate hope that we make it out of here. Rising from the bed, I walk to the window and stare out the blinds. Perimeter lights edge the building and grounds. I hear the purr of an ATV before I see it roll across the lawn. It’s the only sound in the night. The building is as quiet as a tomb.

No alarms have gone off, and I can’t help wondering how we’ll get out of the building. They lock us in at night. Security sits downstairs.

A faint click sounds behind me. I spin around, staring first at the door and then everywhere else all at once. Dim light pours into the room, saving me from total blackness, and I identify Sean as he steps inside. The fear ebbs, replaced with a new kind of tension.

“Sean,” I whisper, my heart pumping harder.

He shuts my door behind him and leans back against it. In the gloom, I can detect the rise and fall of his broad chest. Like he just ran several flights of stairs.

Nervously, I brush a strand of hair from my cheek. My gaze darts around before coming to rest on him again. Of course I can’t help replaying the last time we were alone in my room. I swallow against the sudden dryness of my throat.

I moisten my lips. “You made it.”

He moves, closing the distance between us, advancing with steady strides, eyes gleaming and dark. His hands slide along my cheeks, lifting my face to his. He kisses me, hard and swift. His hands move from my face to my back. Fingers splayed wide, he pulls me against him, wrapping me up in his warmth.

Warm tears roll down my cheeks. He’s the only one. Since all this happened to me, he’s the one that’s been there for me. The one to make me feel like I’m still a person. Not a pariah. Not the monster in the dark. He’s never told me what I am. He’s just assured me that I’m not anything I don’t want to be.

Our lips fuse hotter, more urgent. I throw my whole weight against him. Off balance, he staggers, arm looping around my waist. We fall back on the bed, me sprawled over him.

I kiss him like it’s the last time. Because who knows? It could be. If we’re caught, we’ll at least have this. I work my hands beneath his shirt, skate my palms over his flat stomach, revel at the quiver of his warm flesh under my hands.

He thrusts me from him, his fingers scoring through my hair, holding it back from my face so that he can see me. “Davy. We don’t have much time. Gil’s waiting downstairs, hiding in the stairwell.”

I take a bracing breath. “Yes. Of course.” We’re really doing this. “Let’s go.”

The door creaks open and we fly apart, Sean pushing me behind him.

“Hey.” It’s Gil, his dark eyes shining behind his lenses. “We’ve got to go if we want that head start. The guards change shifts in a couple hours.”

I grab my backpack. Sean takes my hand and we’re moving. Walking through the door and out into the silent hall without a backward glance. There’s no sight of anyone on my floor. We take the stairwell, my heart pounding so hard I’m afraid it can be heard a mile away. At the bottom floor, Gil eases the door open and peers out.

At first glance, the guard looks asleep at the desk, but then you notice his complete and unusual stillness and the odd way his head rests on the surface. Sean creeps toward his desk and deposits the keys there that he apparently used to open my door. We start to slip past him, but suddenly I stop. On impulse, I move back to the desk, my pulse now a feverish throb in my throat. I snatch up the keys, motioning Sean and Gil to wait, and race back up the stairs. At Sabine’s room, I unlock the door. She’s already up, standing tensely beside her bed, her small frame trembling. Her fearful expression eases somewhat when she sees it’s me but remains wary.

“I’m getting out of here,” I whisper. “You can stay or come with me.”

She hesitates only a moment before grabbing a pair of pants and slipping them on over her shorts. She stuffs her feet into her shoes, not bothering with the laces. I don’t have to warn her to be quiet. She follows me soundlessly down the stairs, past the sleeping guard and outside.

Sean and Gil are waiting by the door, their expressions anxious until they spot me. Their eyes widen slightly at the sight of Sabine behind me. Pushing open the door, Sean motions me to hurry. My steps quicken and together we dive outside. The air hasn’t cooled off much and I’m immediately doused in the humid evening. I look left and right, scanning our surroundings. My heart pounds a frantic rhythm. We take a left. I listen for sounds as we move along. Nothing. Not even the purr of the ATV patrolling the grounds.

We hug the shadows, rounding the refectory, heading west. The same direction the carrier had taken last night in his dash for freedom, where the perimeter wall is at its lowest. A pang sharpens my chest at the memory, at the bitter, bitter wish that he had made it.

Sean guides us behind the thick hedge bordering one side of the refectory. The four of us crouch down. I look at the boys curiously. Sean shakes his head at me and motions for me to stay silent. He looks back out at the quad in the direction we just came. I follow his gaze. Nothing. I look back at him questioningly. He motions to his lips, mouthing the word: wait.

Then I see her, muttering under her breath as she stomps a hard line. I’d know that walk anywhere. It’s hard and swift, more like a man’s stride. I catch some of her words. “ . . . know she went this way . . .”