Deviation (Clone Chronicles #2)(63)

“You know you can.”

“All right.” I take a deep breath and lean forward, grabbing her arm and pulling her ear closer so I can whisper. “Remember how you thought I was into something with all those marks on me the other day?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I am. Just not like that, but there’s someone special ….”

She pulls away to look at with wide eyes. “Who?”

Craning my neck, I scan the room. I do two sweeps before I spot him. He’s over by the patio, leaning against the wall next to a large potted palm. People move between us, cutting him off from my view, but every time the path clears, his gaze is trained in the same place. Me.

I turn Taylor around and lean my head next to hers so our line of sight matches. When we’re facing Linc, I point my finger at him and lean into Taylor. “Linc Crawford. I’m in love with him.”

Taylor stares at Linc for all of three heartbeats before she exclaims in an overdramatic drawl, “Ohmygod, it all makes sense!”

She whirls on me and something in her expression makes my blood chill.

“Really?” I ask, hopeful.

Her eyes lose their disbelieving look and everything ices over. “No. Not really. What the hell is really going on, Rav? I mean it. This is your last chance.”

“But—I’m telling the truth. Linc and I are in love.”

“Whatever. I’m not stupid. Here’s the thing. The Raven I know would never fall for a guy below her station and she would absolutely never, ever use the L-word. So there is more to this than you’re saying. And if you’re not going to tell me what it is, I have my answer.”

“Taylor—”

“Yes?”

Silence hangs between us. I can’t think of a single thing to say that will fix this. Taylor’s right about one thing. She isn’t stupid. But there’s no way I can ever tell her the truth.

“Right. So, our friendship is over. And look, whatever happens next, just know this, Opposite Raven: you brought it on yourself. I tried to help you. Now, well, we’re not on the same side anymore. You’ve been warned.” Taylor grabs her drink from the bar and disappears into the crowd.

I stare after her until I lose sight of her blonde hair and, even then, I watch the faces without really seeing them, still searching my brain for something I can tell her that will make it all okay. Someone bumps my elbow and I jump. Dark liquid sloshes over the rim of my glass and runs down my hand. I hold it away from my body to keep it from spilling on my dress.

“Shit, sorry, Ven.” The sound of my name—and the voice uttering it—make me forget all about my spilled drink.

“Obadiah.” With my free hand, I throw an arm around his neck and hug him. He laughs but gently pushes me back. “Uh, no hugging the lower level elites in public, Miss Rogen. It’s frowned upon. Here, let me get you a towel for that.” He reaches behind the bar and hands me a dish towel. I use it to wipe my hand and then the sides of the glass. “Besides, if you raise your arms over your head, your dress is going to eclipse whatever show Titus has planned for all these reporters.”

“I didn’t choose it,” I grumble, tugging at the ends.

“Obviously,” he says in a tone that says he’s enjoying my discomfort way too much. “What are you drinking?”

“I’m holding a rum and Coke. I’m not actually drinking anything. You want?” I offer it up and he takes it with a shrug.

“Sure. Thanks.” He takes it and sips delicately. We lean back against the bar shoulder to shoulder and face the crowd. “How are you?” he asks without looking at me. “Captain America tells me troublesome things.”

Troublesome. Yes. “I’m …” My eyes well but I blink furiously. It’s far too crowded, too exposed. A flashbulb goes off in my face and I wince.

“What the hell, man?” Obadiah takes a step forward and the offending photographer shrinks away.

“Sorry,” the guy mutters.

“No flash photography until the show,” Obadiah yells after him. He turns to me. “Sorry. You all right?”

“Yeah I’m fine. I just … I wish I could get out more. I miss the orphans.”

If he notices the hitch in my voice, he doesn’t comment. We go back to scanning the crowd. “I know. But we all appreciate you being careful. And we understand when you have to stay away.”

“I don’t know if staying away is still the best option,” I say.

Something in my voice finally alerts him. He shifts his gaze to me and his eyes narrow. “Oh, Lord. I know that look.”

“What look?”

“The look of imbecile determination that always precedes you putting yourself at risk,” he says.

“I do not … Always,” I amend when he send me a withering look. “We’re all at risk. Just getting out of bed every morning is a risk.” Ida shouldered my risk. I bite back the urge to cry.

“I don’t know.” Obadiah winks, an attempt to humor me. “I would think with a security guard boyfriend like yours, even lying in bed is a pretty naughty risk.”

My cheeks flame pink. For a mortifying moment, I wonder if he knows something. He just laughs and shakes his head at me. “You’re way too easy to heckle.”