Forged(53)

And I would bet my life that Harvey is the same. Bree wasn’t there to watch his face come alive with awareness at the Compound, to see him undo my bindings in the interrogation room and let me walk free. He wants nothing more than to help us.

“The Sunder Rally’s in a week,” I tell her. “Sammy and Clipper are leaving for Taem soon—to be our backup inside.”

Her face pales.

“I want you with them. In that car. Having my back.”

“I do have your back, Gray. I’m telling you right now that I don’t trust Harvey.”

“But I trust him. Is my opinion worth nothing?”

“If it wasn’t your life on the line, maybe it would be different.”

“Blaine’s life was on the line once, too. So was my father’s. And Bo’s and Xavier’s and so many more. I made a promise the night we got back to Pine Ridge that I would avenge Blaine or die trying. That’s all I’m living for now. To make things right.”

“And what about the people you still have, Gray? Me and Sammy and Clipper. Are we not worth living for?”

“I can’t walk away from Blaine. I have to do this.”

“But he’s gone, Gray.” The heaviness in her voice reaches her eyes. “The only people you’ll be walking away from if you do this are the ones you have left.”

When I don’t say anything she lets out an audible growl and rips back her bedsheets.

“You can leave now. I’m kind of tired.”

“Bree . . .” I put a hand on her shoulder and she shrugs me off.

“Bree, I need you with me on this,” I try again. “Please don’t stay here with September. Please.”

She studies me, her expression torn. “When did I ever say I was staying?”

“But you just . . . and everything you said downstairs . . .”

“Is still true,” she finishes. “I think the plan’s stupid. I’m terrified it will backfire. And I’m furious that even with me admitting all that, you’re still going to run with it. But I don’t have a choice, Gray. When did I ever have a choice?”

I search her eyes, confused.

Bree pulls her shoulders into a defeated shrug. “The only thing I’ll regret more than handing you over to certain death is not being there to try to stop it. And if I can’t stop it, I want to be with you until the end.”

“That sounds self-destructive, especially for you.”

“Loving someone is self-destructive.” I must look skeptical because she adds, “Seriously. Love makes people irrational. I mean, the way I feel about you—sometimes it scares me, Gray. I stormed the Compound for you, struck down men, shot your double right in the stomach without a second’s hesitation, and I’d do it all again. I’d do anything not to lose you, and that’s dangerous.”

“I’d do the same.”

“Which makes us dumb.”

“Not if we keep our heads. We’ve gotten through everything before. We can get through this, too.”

“I hope you’re right,” she says. “I really do. Because every time I tell myself the same thing, it feels like a giant lie.”


I can’t sleep. In part due to nerves—there are no shortage of unknowns lying ahead—and also because I can’t shake the look of fear on Bree’s face, her unwavering opposition to the plan. Still, for the first time in months, I feel as though I am doing the right thing. I am exactly where I need to be, walking the only road left to be traveled. This sort of possessed nature reminds me of when I climbed the Claysoot Wall. My heart’s already somewhere ahead of me, and now it’s only a matter of letting my feet catch up.

“Anxious?” Sammy asks as I roll over again.

“Yeah. You?”

“Sure, but you’re keeping me up more than the nerves are, flopping around like a dying fish.”

The image makes me smile. Not that he can see it in the dark.

“She’s not really staying behind, is she?”

“No. She’ll come.”

Sammy exhales. “Thank God. Did you have to beg?”

“Luckily, no, because it probably wouldn’t have helped. Didn’t you watch me beg for her forgiveness the last two months?”

He laughs lightly, then adds, “Shit, man. Why is it that anything worth having is always a second away from being taken from you?”

“Just life keeping you nimble, I guess.”

In the distance I can hear the muffled crash of waves—surging onto the shore, pulling back, crashing again.

“Hey, Sammy? What’d you do after your father was executed?”

“Broke every dish in the house, screamed until my throat was hoarse, and burned the photos I had of him because his smile was driving me crazy.”

“But after that? After the anger and the grief?”

“There is no after. I still feel it. Every single day. That’s why I ditched Taem and took to the forest. I didn’t care if it put a target on my back for the rest of my life. I was going to make sure I made my father proud, carried out his work in my own way. And I never thought I’d say this, but the end might finally be in sight.” Another small pause. “Why?”

“I just want to be sure I’m doing the right thing. Even if people I trust are telling me the opposite.”