Deviation (14 page)
“Right, but we can work around him. I still have you around to help—”
“I told you last night, they won’t let me near you anymore.”
“Linc, I can’t—I know you don’t want to hear this, but something’s changing and … I won’t leave without Daniel,” I say quietly.
That shuts him up. The surprise in him gives way quickly to temper. “How in the hell do you plan to pull that off, huh?” His tone is teasing, biting, and full of accusation that I am incompetent.
I’m too afraid he’s right to stay calm. “I’ll figure it out,” I snap. “You had no right to do this.”
His eyes flash and I know I’ve hurt him. “I have every right. He tried to kill you,” he says, his voice rising to match mine.
“But he stopped. Something stopped him. Don’t you see?”
The silence hangs heavily between us. With my eyes, I plead with him to understand this, to agree to take me back to Rogen Tower, but his expression is stony as he leans away. His lids droop until his expression and his thoughts are hooded. “The only thing I see is you wanting to die, just like before.”
“Linc.” I try to say more, but rather than words, tears slip out. First one, then another. They trail wet tracks down my cheeks, cutting through the layers of cosmetics. I sniffle and turn away, hating my own display of weakness against Linc’s stoic strength.
When I sniffle again, Linc sighs. The angry energy between us dissipates with his dispelled breath. Gentle fingers wrap around my wrist, pulling my hand from my face. I twist free, determined to cover the evidence of my reaction.
“Ven.” He gives up on my hands and scoots closer, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me to his chest.
“What?” I mumble, hiding my face in his shirt instead.
He tucks my hair behind my ear, exposing my cheek before rubbing it dry with the backs of his fingers. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have said that about you wanting to die. I know it’s not like that.”
I sniffle again. The tears lessen.
“When you leave is your choice.” His voice is pained, and I know it’s not easy for him to say those words. “I’m sorry I tried to force you. I … don’t ever want to force you to do anything you don’t want. That makes me no better than him.”
I bite my lip.
“Ven, please say something.”
I take a deep breath, attempting to steady my voice, and swipe at my face one more time before sitting up to face him. My eyes don’t quite make it to his when I say, “I’m sorry I yelled. And you care about me, so you do have a right to want to protect me.”
His fingers catch my chin and nudge it up. I drag my gaze to his. “Angel. It’s more than caring. I’m in love with you. It makes me want to protect you from the world, not just Titus.”
My eyes water and I scowl. “I hate crying,” I say. “I wish I could be mad and mean like you.”
He laughs and it lightens the heaviness in my gut. “You can. I’ve seen you do it. And I don’t like it when you cry either. It makes me crumble every time.”
My mouth twitches, wanting to curve. “Are you saying crying makes me win?”
His eyes sparkle with a heady mixture of relief and sincerity as he replies, “I’m saying I would do anything to make you happy.”
I smile at that, inside and out. Linc scoots in, combing his fingers through my hair. Then running them over my jawline. Then cupping my cheeks.
The words that have been on my tongue, the mark, the city segregation—all of it fades away in a rush of pleasure. In the back of my mind, I know it is urgent. That the possibilities of these changes could be disastrous. But right now, inside the cocoon of this backseat and the protection of Linc’s arms, I’m so much a human girl that it hurts. All I see, all I want, is Linc.
When our lips touch, it’s a burst of flame, licking heat from my mouth to my stomach and beyond. It burns between my thighs, building to an ache. Before I know what I’m doing or can question my bravery, I slide onto his lap. My legs straddle his and my arms wrap around his neck, hanging on tightly as our mouths move together in a passionate dance.
His hands are everywhere. In my hair, stroking my face, gripping my hips. His mouth leaves mine only to press lingering kisses along my neck. His face disappears into the crook of my shoulder, his tongue leaving a moist, hot trail in its wake.
“Linc …” I say, not even certain how to finish the thought.
He makes a low noise and his hands are suddenly back on my hips, pulling me harder against him and pressing me down against his thighs. “Oh,” I manage before his mouth collides with mine and my breath and words are stolen away.
My awareness dims. I can’t think beyond Linc’s kiss or his hands as they explore my body. Everywhere his skin touches mine, I ignite. If he asks again to take me away, I’ll say yes. I’ll promise anything as long as it means not losing this feeling. It’s the one experience no one describes in the City, and I have a suspicion it’s the one thing we’re never supposed to discover. I am grateful and elated and desperate that I have.
The car door is wrenched open. I gasp as sunlight streams inside, blinding me to the world beyond. My heart stutters and then sprints off, full speed ahead, as I try to focus on the shadowed body leaning toward us. “You two lovebirds gonna take a break and come inside, or what?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Linc says lightly. When I try to move away, he catches me and plants one final kiss on my mouth before letting me go.
Their nonchalance isn’t enough to stop the blush from rising to my cheeks. I scoot sideways off Linc’s lap and onto the seat beside him, hastily rearranging my skirt and blouse. Linc chuckles and when I finally look up, he’s smiling as he waits on the seat beside me.
The sight of it gives me a burst of daring. I press a kiss just below his ear, and whisper, “We couldn’t have done that on a motorcycle.”
His eyes glint with a challenge and his smile is lopsided. He is the most gorgeous human I’ve ever seen. “Wanna bet?” he whispers back.
It’s just as well that Obadiah is waiting. I can’t think of a single thing to say in response to Linc’s last words. He knows it, judging by the crooked grin still stretched across his face. My breath catches at the thought of attempting anything remotely like what we just did from the back of Linc’s motorcycle. It seems impossible. Dangerous. Absolutely thrilling. The heat in my lower stomach returns. I try to ignore it as I slide out of the car behind Linc.
My eyes take a few blinks to adjust after the tinted windows of the car. We’re in an alleyway between buildings. Obadiah has somehow wedged the car between two dumpsters so that both license plates are obscured. Smart. Also, I have no idea how we’ll get out. And then I realize, Obadiah doesn’t plan to.
My palms are sweaty from all that’s happened. Not just the private moments Linc and I shared, but the entire events that brought me here. Taylor. Alton. Titus. The mark. Where do I begin?
“You okay?” Obadiah asks, bumping my shoulder with his as we walk.
“Just trying to catch my breath after that getaway,” I tease.
“If you ever decide to rob a bank, I’m your guy.”
“You’ll be the first call I make,” I assure him.
“Good. How was your shopping trip with President Evil?” he asks.
“It was …” I can’t even finish as I think about how Taylor treated the boy in the street and the way she spoke about the poor.
“What happened?” Obadiah asks.
I tell him about our shopping day. “And she bought me that bag,” I add. “She thought she was helping, I guess. I mean, Raven—the real Raven—probably would’ve been cheered up.”
“Nah, I remember watching the two of them together. I think even the real Raven could see Taylor’s nastiness.” The hardness in Obadiah’s voice is unmistakable as he adds, “Taylor’s an acid. She eats away at everything she touches.”
At the intersection, we pause underneath the shadow of the building at our back. There are no cars or pedestrians here. The warehouses behind us are mostly abandoned or used for things no one wants to admit to. Up ahead is Obadiah’s father’s warehouse. The front entrance faces the street a block north, just across from a condemned public parking structure. This side street is deserted—at least by anyone who would take notice of three teenagers sneaking between alleyways.
Just in case, I scan for traffic. Farther down to my right, I see a group of people huddled near some crumbling boxes underneath the overhang of a tattered auto repair shop. They haven’t looked this way on any of our visits here. Sometimes I wonder if we should stop to check their pulse as we pass by, but I don’t say it. I am afraid of what we’ll find.
We dart across the intersection, walking fast until we reach the cover of the next set of buildings. Our destination is the enormous warehouse on my right but even the back door is too obvious. “How long do we have?” I ask as we walk.
Linc and Obadiah share a look. “She’s not staying?” Obadiah asks.
Linc’s mouth tightens. “No,” is all he says.
Obadiah’s brows disappear into the ends of the dark hair splayed across his forehead.
“Next time you want to rescue me,” I say, “consider asking if I want to be rescued.”
Obadiah snorts. “Of course you want to be rescued. You’re the damsel.”
I glare at him. “I’m going back.”
“Of course you are.” He shakes his head and then looks at Linc. “Well, that changes things. How are you going to—?”
“It’s fine,” Linc says through closed teeth.
I stare between them, certain I’m missing something, though I have no idea what. “What’s fine?” I ask when neither of them elaborates.
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll go visit with Morton and head back when you’re ready,” Linc says.
Obadiah bites his lip and we walk on in silence. The entrance is just ahead, obscured from this angle by a small electrical shed, but Obadiah doesn’t get that far before he stops abruptly and turns to face Linc. “Here’s the thing. I have to worry about it,” he says. “If she’s going back, that means so are you.”
Linc doesn’t answer.
“You were going to stay too?” I ask him.
Obadiah presses on. “How in the hell do you expect to be let back in when they find out you redirected her GPS? And lied about a threat? They
will
figure it out. You can’t cover this one up.”
Still, Linc is silent. “Linc?” I say.
Nothing.
Obadiah’s eyes flash in uncharacteristic anger. “You can’t come inside.”
“What?” Linc says.
“It’s too dangerous. You guys have to go back.”
“We put this whole thing together,” Linc argues. “Drove all the way down here. She can at least go say hello.”
“No,” Obadiah says. “You didn’t hold up your end.” He points to me and adds, “She was supposed to get rid of it by now. You said you brought the tools. It was a done deal. If it’s still in her, they’ll find her soon enough, regardless of that scrambler thing. Hell, they probably already have.”
“Wait. You said you masked me. What does that mean?” I ask Linc. No answer. “Did you scramble my signal?” Still nothing. The boys are locked in a stare-down involving silent communication I don’t understand. “Obadiah—”
Linc cuts me off. “Just give her five minutes to say hello. She misses them and who knows when she’ll be back.”
“Are you talking about my GPS chip? Were you going to cut it out of me?”
The thought leaves me a little nauseous and even more excited. But neither one answers me. They are still locked in the stare-down. For once, Obadiah looks just as set, just as tough, as Linc. My heart swells a little that he could love this group of Imitations so fiercely, so fast, that he would protect them—even from Linc. Even from me.
“Linc, he’s right,” I say, putting my hand on his arm. “We should go. I would hate to lead Titus here.”
“But we came all this way,” he says, and I know he means more than just the car ride. He wants me to stay, to be free. It’s probably the smart thing. But I can’t make myself do it. To stay feels far too much like giving up.
“We’ll get here again,” I say quietly.
He holds Obadiah’s stare a moment longer and, finally, his shoulders relax and he steps back. “All right.”
Obadiah exhales, determination replaced by relief.
“I’ll take her back. You should stay,” Linc tells him. “Check on them. Explain to Morton what happened.”
“I will.” Obadiah nods. “What about you?”
Linc takes my hand in his and intertwines our fingers. “I’ll be fine.”
Obadiah looks less than convinced. “You could stay,” he says. “Let her go back.” At Linc’s expression he shakes his head. “It was worth a shot. Call me when you can, let me know you’re okay.”
“Same to you,” Linc says.
I hug Obadiah. “Thank you for helping Linc today,” I say.
“You just make sure they don’t figure out what he did,” Obadiah tells me. He squeezes me hard and whispers into my hair, “If they find out, run.”
I squeeze him one last time and step back.
Obadiah tosses the car keys. Linc catches them in midair with his free hand and slides them into his pocket.
“Good luck,” Obadiah says.
“Good luck,” I repeat.
Linc and I watch as Obadiah makes his way toward the bricked shed and disappears behind it. The handle engages and I hear the door swing open. There is a soft, echoing click as the door shuts behind him and then it is silent.
Linc is already moving. “Come on,” Linc says, tugging my hand back the way we came. He checks his watch. “We should hurry.”
“Is everything okay?” I ask, hurrying to keep pace with him now.
“I thought we’d have your GPS out by now.”
“Do you think they’ve figured it out?”
Linc’s silence is answer enough. I walk faster.
At the mouth of the alley, we pause again and look up and down the deserted street. We dart across, two of my tiny steps equaling one of Linc’s. Halfway across, an engine hums and gains volume as a vehicle appears from a cross street. It’s boxy and black, an SUV according to Linc. I’ve seen the security team use them to tail us or provide escort services during crowded events.
The SUV flashes its headlights and accelerates toward us in a burst of roaring speed. We’ve been found.
Instead of continuing straight down the alley toward the car, Linc pulls on my hand, propelling both of us sharply left. I’m yanked into the safety of the shadows cast by the abandoned two-story complex that looms just ahead. He whips me around the edge of the building and pushes me against the mildew-stained wall.
A cold dampness seeps through the thin fabric of my blouse. I force myself to remain steady despite knowing I’ve ruined yet another of Raven’s designer tags. Titus won’t be pleased. Then again, if his SUV full of men is any indication, a ruined shirt is the least of my worries.
Linc hovers in front of me, using his body as a shield. “Did we lose them?” I whisper, craning to see over his shoulder. He shakes his head in answer.
A moment passes with the hum of an engine steady in the not-far distance. The sound grows steadily louder until tires screech to a halt. The sound is a block or so away, closer to where we parked the car. A door opens and slams shut, followed immediately by several others.
My heart skips beats. I stare up at Linc with wide eyes.
“No,” he says simply. His mouth is a hard line, his jaw working back and forth. I don’t let myself imagine what Titus will do when he finds out Linc is responsible for all this. I think of Melanie and Daniel and swallow back the urge to cry or cling to him in helpless surrender.
Somewhere behind us a voice barks orders to “spread out” and “find them.”
I stare up at Linc as he looks left, then right. Without warning, he grabs my wrist and takes off. We dart between buildings, zigzagging away from the voices and footsteps at our back. I am careful to keep up and not trip or stumble. I concentrate on the direction Linc chooses, determined that, no matter what, we will not give away Obadiah or the others when we are caught.
There is no doubt in my mind we will be caught.
Linc pulls up short and shoves me backward. I grunt when my back hits the wall. Linc presses against me as he crowds us both into the tiny alcove of space he’s found. It’s nothing more than a dip in the wall, a space left to accommodate access to the giant cooling unit beside me. On my right is a large pipe that stretches from the ground to the roof of the building we’re leaning against. On my left is a large, boxed fan of some kind, although it is silent now.
Linc’s breath is warm and fast where it hits my cheeks. I meet his eyes, searching their depths for some clue of what to do next. His flash with what must be possibilities, escape routes, plans. None seem to satisfy him. His gaze is pleading with mine, almost desperate as it flicks to my mouth and away again. Something in his expression clicks.
I don’t know what it means but there’s no time to ask. The voices are closer despite the distance we ran. We have only seconds before—
“Sir, I found them!”
Linc crushes his mouth to mine just as Deitrich walks into view. “What the …?” The guard stops short at the sight of Linc and I locking lips.
I shove against him but Linc doesn’t release me. Boots pound against the asphalt as they rush up. Each of them stops short when they catch sight of us. Linc’s hands are in my hair and at the base of my neck, making sure my lips don’t leave his. One of the guards snickers. A few mutter but I don’t hear the words. Despite the danger, I can’t help but enjoy the promise and warmth of Linc’s kisses. Slowly, I begin to respond to him.
