In The Afterlight (The Darkest Minds #3)(77)

“Yeah,” he said, quietly, “but she’s so lovely.”

My hands slid up along his back, and I was relieved that it was as hot to the touch as I felt. I wanted to ask him about the drive up, what the people they made contact with had been like, but it seemed enough to just be held, to feel him kiss my hair, my cheek.

I leaned back, looking up at his face. One his hands moved, sliding into the back pocket of my jeans; he was still watching me when I reached up and tried to thumb some of the oil off his face.

“Damn,” he said, chuckling, “how much of a mess am I right now?”

You are perfect. My fingers and eyes shifted down, to the pale scar at the right corner of his mouth, and felt the first touch of something dark and insistent pressing at the back of my mind.

“How did you get this scar?” I asked. I just needed to hear it from him, to confirm what I’d seen locked inside Cole’s mind. “I never asked you.”

“It’s a good thing you didn’t,” he said, reaching up to catch my hand and hold it in his. “There’s not a good story to it. I’ve had it forever. Cole told me I got it when he pushed me off his bed.”

I closed my eyes, let out a soft breath. And when he kissed me, I let it chase the truth away.

“Cole said you called Harry to help find where they brought Cate,” I said. “Thank you—thank you so much. I know you’re trying to keep them out of this.”

Liam laughed. “Like I could ever keep Harry or Mom from getting themselves in trouble. Zu’s story pretty much proved that.”

“You got to talk to them?”

“Yeah, I used one of the extra burner phones,” he said. “It was amazing to hear their voices. It felt like it had been forever since the last time.”

I ran a hand up and down his arm. I was thrilled for him—honestly thrilled beyond anything I thought possible. Enough, at least, to ignore the small pang of jealousy in the corner of my heart that was still bruised.

“I was worried he wouldn’t accept Harry’s help,” Liam continued. “The two of them have knocked heads since day one.”

“Why is that?” I asked. If he hated his biological father the way I knew he did, then why push back so hard against Harry?

He shrugged. “Cole used to act out a lot when we were kids, and Mom didn’t have the heart to discipline him after everything that happened with our bio dad, so Harry had to do it. And you know, he’s a great, loving, super funny guy, but he can be strict. He spent years in the military.”

“And Cole has never liked being told what to do,” I finished. That, and I was sure that once the change came over him and he developed terrifying abilities he had to fight to control, he spent most of his childhood angry and afraid of being found out. I swallowed hard at the thought, unable to speak. If he’d just tell Liam...

“I think he was—I’m not sure this is going to make sense, but I don’t know that Cole ever let himself trust Harry. He remembers more of what it was like when our father was around, and he feels protective of Mom, which I do get. But it’s like he’s waiting for Harry to let us down. To hurt us. And Harry never would. I think he joined the League just to spite Harry, actually.”

“Maybe working together now will help Cole learn to trust him?” I offered.

“That’s what Harry’s hoping. For the record, I hope so too.” Liam pressed a kiss to my hair again before pulling back. “All right. I’m tuckered out—”

I wasn’t tired in the slightest anymore, and I had a feeling he wasn’t either, not really. I kissed the scar at the corner of his lips, running my hands up his neck and burying them in his hair. His pale blue eyes seemed to darken as he leaned down to meet me halfway.

Someone coughed behind us.

And coughed again.

Liam said something uncharacteristically vulgar under his breath as he pulled back, his face flushed and his eyes a bit too wild. “Yeah?”

It was the girl who’d been working at the table—she was a Blue who’d come in with Zu’s ragtag group. Elizabeth. That was her name. Liza.

“I finished, but I’m not sure it looks...I think it might look more like a white banana?” She held up a black helmet for the two of us to inspect. Painted along one side was what looked to my eye like a crescent moon. Liam’s arms tensed around my waist.

“It looks great,” he said.

“Well you know what it’s supposed to be, but what if she can’t?” Liza said.

“She?” I repeated.

“Our contact,” Liam said quickly, “Senator Cruz’s, I mean. When I go to pick up supplies, she wanted something to identify me.”

“But won’t you be driving a car or truck?” I asked. “Not the bike?”

He hesitated, standing up and away from the bike. I saw the effort of his concentration as he turned a smiling face back on me. “Sometimes the bike, depending on the situation. We’ll paint one of the doors of the trucks, too.”

I don’t know what it was, exactly. The odd tone of his voice; the way Liza all but bolted, her face pale; how quick he was to take my hand and start guiding us back toward the tunnel. Every thought that passed through his head had always registered on Liam’s face, good or bad. Seeing his carefully blank face, half-hidden by the shadows in the tunnel, I pieced together the realization.