The One (The Selection, #3)(29)

Maxon put an arm around me, escorting me to the back of the truck.

“I was sure it would take all night to find you,” he worried aloud.

“Me, too. But I was in too much pain to get very far. Paige helped.”

“Then she’ll be taken care of, I promise.”

Maxon, Paige, and I crawled into the back of the truck, and the metal floor was strangely comforting as we sped back to the palace.



CHAPTER 14

IT WAS ASPEN WHO LIFTED me from the back of the truck and hurriedly carried me to a tiny room. The space was smaller than my bathroom and held two slim beds and a dresser. There were little notes and photos on the wall, which gave it some personality; but it was otherwise barren, not to mention incredibly cramped with Aspen, me, Officer Avery, Maxon, and Paige filling every spare inch.

Aspen laid me on a bed as gently as possible, but my arm continued to throb.

“We ought to get the doctor,” he said. But I could tell he doubted his own words. Getting Dr. Ashlar would mean either telling the absolute truth or making up an outrageous lie, and neither of those options was something we wanted.

“Don’t,” I urged weakly. “I won’t die from this. It’ll just be a bad scar. We have to clean it up.” I grimaced.

“You’ll need something for the pain,” Maxon added.

“She might get infected. That alley was really dirty, and I touched her,” Paige said guiltily.

A sliver of fire burned across the wound, and I hissed. “Anne. Get Anne.”

“Who?” Maxon asked.

“Her head maid,” Aspen explained. “Avery, get Anne and a medical kit. We’ll have to make due. And we need to do something with her,” he added, nodding his head at Paige.

I watched Maxon’s worried eyes finally move from my bloody arm to Paige’s troubled face.

“Are you a criminal? A runaway?” he asked her.

“Not that kind of criminal. And I did run away, but there’s no one looking for me.”

Maxon considered her words. “Welcome aboard. Follow Avery down to the kitchens and tell a Mallory you’ll be working with her on the prince’s command. Instruct her to come to the officers’ wing immediately.”

“Mallory. Yes, Your Majesty.” Paige gave him a deep curtsy and followed Officer Avery from the room, leaving me alone with Maxon and Aspen. I’d been with both of them all night, but this was the first time it was just the three of us. I could feel the weight of our secrets filling up the already restricting room.

“How’d you make it out?” I asked.

“August, Georgia, and Micah heard the gunshots and came running,” Maxon said. “He wasn’t kidding when he said they’d never hurt us.” He paused, his eyes quickly distant and sad. “Micah didn’t make it.”

I turned my head away. I didn’t know a thing about him, but he died tonight for us. I felt as guilty as if I’d taken his life myself.

I went to wipe a tear away, forgetting to use my left arm, and cried out.

“Calm down, America,” Aspen said, forgetting to be formal.

“Everything’s going to work out,” Maxon promised.

I nodded, pursing my lips together to avoid crying anymore. What a waste.

We were quiet for what felt like a long time, but maybe it was the pain stretching out the minutes.

“It’s wonderful to have such devotion,” Maxon said suddenly.

At first I thought he was talking about Micah again. But Aspen and I looked over and saw him gazing at a space on the wall behind me.

I turned my head, happy to focus on anything that wasn’t the searing pain in my arm. There, beside several pictures drawn by one of his younger siblings, was a note.

I’ll always love you. I’ll wait for you forever. I’m with you, no matter what.



My handwriting was a little sloppier a year ago when I’d left that note by my window for Aspen to find, and it was surrounded by silly little hearts that I would never put in a love letter now, but I could still feel the importance of those words. It was the first time I’d put them in writing, afraid of how much more I felt those things once they were on paper. I also remembered the fear of my mother finding that note surpassing any other worry about the enormity of knowing, without a doubt, that I loved Aspen.

Right now I feared Maxon recognizing my handwriting.

“It must be nice to have someone to write to. I’ve never had the luxury of love letters,” Maxon said, a sad smile on his face. “Has she kept her word?”

Aspen was moving pillows from the other bed to prop under my head, avoiding eye contact with either Maxon or myself.

“Writing is difficult,” he said. “But I do know she’s with me, no matter what. I don’t doubt it.”

I looked at Aspen’s short, dark hair—the only part of him I could really see—and I felt a new pain. In a way he was right. We would never truly leave each other. But . . . the words on that paper? That encompassing love that used to overwhelm me? It wasn’t here anymore.

Was Aspen still counting on it?

My eyes flickered to Maxon, and the sadness on his face read a bit like jealousy. I wasn’t surprised. I remembered telling Maxon that I’d been in love before; he’d looked as if he’d been cheated out of something, so unsure at that point if he would ever fall in love.