The Last Uprising (Defectors Trilogy) (25 page)

He glanced over at me, unsmiling, holding me frozen in place with the intensity of those eyes. There was a question and a challenge dancing behind his stormy gaze, but I couldn’t move or even speak.

Right then, our thoughts were connected, and I knew that Amory was what
I
was fighting for.

After Greyson and I helped the wounded men to bed, we walked back to the house together in the dark. The farm was strangely peaceful after all the shooting and the bombs, but it felt as though we were waiting for something much worse.
 

We didn’t know what was coming next — only that something
would
come. The PMC would not allow us much peace now that we had killed nearly thirty of their soldiers.

“What was with you and Amory today?” asked Greyson out of nowhere.

I stopped walking, taken aback. “What?”

Had we been that obvious?

“After his speech. I thought you two were going to start making out right in front of everyone.” He grinned. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. It was a good speech, but —”

I shoved him lightly. “Shut up.”

My face was burning up, and I was glad it was dark.

Greyson grinned. “I’m just saying . . . it’s about time. We
need
you guys to make up, actually. Amory’s been a little off his game since . . .”

“Since?”

Greyson stopped, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Since you were taken. You should have seen him those two months you were gone. He was . . . he was tough to be around.”

I stared at Greyson. The way he said “you were gone” made it sound as if I’d been on vacation or something.
 

He seemed to sense my unease, because he started walking again, raking an agitated hand through his curly hair. I was glad to see it was fanning out around his face again now that his prison crew cut had grown out.

“Then you came back, but nothing was the same. It was like you were a stranger to him.”
 

When Greyson turned to look at me, his dark eyes were serious. “He’s not been able to trust many people in his life, and you . . . you were important to him.” He smiled. “You’re
still
important to him.”

I bit back a grin.
 

Greyson was lecturing
me
about Amory. My best friend was defending my . . .
 

Well, Amory wasn’t “my” anything. The thought gave me a twinge of sadness.

“I know,” I said. “I’m not the same . . . but I
am
myself again. As much as that’s possible.”

“Are you?” It wasn’t an accusatory question. Greyson seemed happy to hear me say it.

“I think so. I remember most things.”

“And Amory? Do you still like him?”

I swallowed twice, trying to keep the words down, but they burst from my lips as though they’d been trying to get out. “I think I might love him.”

Greyson’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “You
love
him?”

I nodded. “I think I have for a while.”

We paused, me giving Greyson time to process. I wasn’t sure why I’d told him instead of Logan — maybe because Greyson tended to be reflective rather than reactive when he got news like this.

“You have to put things right with Amory,” he said. “Soon.”

“Put things right?”

Greyson raised an eyebrow. “We all saw you two fight, Haven. There’s so much . . . tension between you two. Amory’s still licking his wounds. He feels rejected.”

“Rejected? I didn’t
remember
him.”

He laughed. “That’s almost worse. Trust me, when you go from being something to nothing to a girl, it makes you . . .” He trailed off, searching for words. “Just know that Amory’s handled it really well considering everything.”

“I know he has,” I said, a little defensively. “And he could never be
nothing
. . . not to me.”

“Put yourself in his position — having to keep you at arm’s length when he used to be able to . . . do whatever he wanted with you.”

I felt my face growing hot. I wanted to extricate myself from this conversation as quickly as possible. Greyson was my best friend, but we didn’t talk about this stuff.
 

In the past, Greyson might have been the better choice for Amory-related advice since he had a more objective opinion than Logan. But now that he knew Amory, he was invested, too. Amory was his friend as much as I was.

We had reached the house, and a lone figure overlooking the field came into view. It was hard to tell in the light of the small fire he’d made, but it had to be Amory.

“Go,” said Greyson. I could tell he was smirking. “Not doing anything is much harder than telling him.”

“I just . . . I feel like I’ve waited too long,” I said.

Greyson laughed. “You wouldn’t say that if you’d heard the things he tells me. He loves you, Haven. He’d wait forever. But you shouldn’t make him.” His expression became grave. “I don’t think we
have
forever.”

Before he could stop me — before he could feel awkward or diffuse his own kindness — I threw my arms around his neck and squeezed. “Thanks,” I muttered into his jacket.

“Don’t mention it.”

I pulled away, and he backed toward the house. Even as his features disappeared into the darkness, I knew he was wearing a mischievous grin.

It felt like a long walk out to where Amory was sitting. It struck me as odd that he was out here, considering it was Roman’s night on duty. Maybe Roman was out there somewhere, stalking through the trees looking for carriers, and Amory had just come out because he couldn’t sleep. His rifle was lying in the grass next to him, as though he didn’t think he’d be needing it.

“Hey,” I whispered, not wanting to startle him by sneaking up behind him.

He jumped, spinning around, and his face fell into a relieved expression when he saw it was me.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

But he was already smiling, truly happy to see me. Maybe I was imagining it, but there seemed to be a slight droop of sadness to his eyes. He looked tired and beaten down — as though he were muddling through everything himself, despite his encouraging speech.

 
“No. I’m glad you’re here,” he said, spreading out his blanket so I could sit down.
 

It was freezing, but he was only wearing cargo pants and the same black rebel jacket he’d worn in camp. His gloveless hands were shoved into his pockets, yet I was shivering in the huge down coat I’d found in Ida’s closet.
 

I certainly wasn’t dressed for any romantic declarations. I’d at least changed out of my bloody clothes, but I hadn’t even combed my hair that day. It was lying all over my shoulders in unruly waves.
 

Meanwhile, he was sitting there, eyes smoldering, looking annoyingly sexy despite everything that had happened.

“I’m sorry about today,” I said. “I know how hard it must be to watch someone die like that and . . . and not be able to do anything.”

Amory took a long, labored breath. “The thing is . . . I knew he was going to die. But I still feel like I failed.”

“No!” I said, taken aback. “You didn’t fail. You were
amazing
today.”

Amory looked at me, and I was a little embarrassed by the naked passion in my voice.
 

I cleared my throat. “You did so much better than me. I couldn’t have rallied the men like you did. Earlier I . . . I just choked. I’m not cut out for this.”

“What?” Amory leaned in closer. “Yes, you are.” He sighed. “You’re a leader, Haven. That’s one of the reasons I pulled you into the ring to fight that night. I wanted them to see how
good
you are. These guys . . . they’re guys’ guys. They needed to see that you could hold your own before they’d let you send them into battle.”

“That’s not
really
why you fought me,” I reminded him.

His mouth lifted into a crooked smile, and I could have sworn I saw him blush. He dug the heel of his boot into the grass, looking anywhere but at me. “It’s one of the reasons.”
 

I knew then I couldn’t fight all the feelings that were rushing through me. It wasn’t just that Amory believed in me and trusted me when no one else did; Amory and I understood each other better than anyone.

Only he knew what I had gone through when I was Aryus’s prisoner, and he loved me despite how messed up I had been. He was steady and kind and courageous.

“You know . . . most of the time, I only feel like I can do this because of you,” I whispered.

His eyebrows lifted in surprise, and I could see his jaw muscle twitching. His features looked all the more pronounced in the dancing firelight, and I could tell he was holding something back — as though he didn’t want to hope for anything.

My face was growing hot, but I kept talking. “You’re the only one who believes in me most of the time.”

He shook his head. “You keep us going. Everybody knows that.”

“But you’re the one who keeps
me
going. You’re what I’m
fighting for in all this.”
 

Before I could stop myself, I had reached out and touched his leg.

He took in a big breath of air, his whole body stiffening, and I pulled it away.
 

I cursed myself silently. I was throwing this all at him too quickly. I couldn’t expect to push him away for weeks and then ask him to come back to me.

“Amory, I . . . I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything I put you through when you got me out. I’m sorry you thought I remembered everyone but you. I know you think I was pretending, but those memories of us were buried so deep. I think World Corp must have done something to make sure I forgot you.”

He sighed, shoulders sagging. I realized he thought I was breaking things off for good. He thought I would never remember.

“These past couple weeks, though . . . my memories have been coming back.”

Amory looked up, and that hope was back in his eyes.
 

“You remember me?” he croaked. “Us?”

I nodded. “Yes. But I didn’t even have to remember. I started to like you all over again — not because of the memories of what we used to be like, but because of how we are now.”

He looked away. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. I knew he was processing that thought, but I couldn’t stop or I would lose my nerve.

“I know I pushed you away. I know it might be too late to pick up where we left off, but . . .”

“Too late?” he gasped. “Are you kidding?” He shook his head, shoving down his own hope. “Please don’t say this for my benefit, Haven. I don’t want to be without you, but I don’t want you to feel obligated to be with me — even if you have remembered.”

“You told me to tell you what I want. I
want
to be with you,” I whispered, feeling my face grow hot as I said it. “If you want me.”

His eyes met mine, and he looked as though I’d gone crazy. “Haven . . . I’ve
always
wanted you.”

Those words sent my heart into overdrive. That was all I needed to hear. It was all I’d ever needed.

Amory reached for me, and I met him halfway.
 

His hand wound around the back of my head, and he threaded his fingers through my hair. In one rough motion, he pulled me into him and crushed me against his chest. I could feel his heart beating hard beneath his shirt.
 

His hands fumbled up my sides, ghosting all over me until they reached my face. When his lips met mine, the heat spread from my mouth all the way through my body.
 

I shuddered with pleasure. Every emotion — every delight — came flooding back in a wave of feeling.
 

Kissing Amory felt familiar in the most wonderful way, but also new.
 

His mouth was hot and inviting, and I drank him in as though I’d been thirsting for weeks.
 

He kissed me with such desperation and longing it scared me. It was as though he couldn’t get enough, and the way he gripped me made me think he was worried I would disappear. I returned his kiss with fervor, tasting and touching every bit of him I could reach. I was drunk — absolutely ridiculous in how much I wanted him.

His arm wrapped around my waist, and he rocked me back onto the soft blanket. My hair fanned out behind me, and I shivered a little as his chest grazed mine.

“Oh, god I’ve missed you,” he groaned into my mouth.

“You have no idea.”

That seemed to send him into a frenzy, and I felt his hands shake a little as they trailed up my sides, burrowing under my shirt. I let him feel his way up my ribs and around my back, and he pulled me closer to him.
 

I grabbed his belt loops, pulling him down and dragging him against me. I wanted to crawl inside him and never leave.
 

Amory’s kiss had fire behind it, and I thought we might both combust if I didn’t rip off his clothes right there in the yard. He seemed to sense this, and after a moment, his kisses burned out a little and became playful and full of joy.
 

We were back, and after today’s victory, it felt as though we had all the time in the world. We had earned this happiness a hundred times over, and now that we were together again, I felt invincible.

I didn’t know how long we kissed, but it wasn’t long enough. We finally pulled apart, but Amory’s hands were still wrapped around me, one behind my knee and one tangled in my hair. I lay back into his arms, and he held me tightly.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he breathed.

“Me, too.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d started to remember?”

“I didn’t want to get your hopes up . . . in case I never remembered how I felt about you. But it didn’t even matter.” I smiled. “I would have done that anyway. I couldn’t hold it in anymore.”

“I’ve been holding in a lot of things,” he said with a laugh.

My face prickled with heat, but my stomach squirmed with pleasure.

He must have sensed my awkwardness, because he whispered, “We’ll take it slow.” A laugh rumbled through his chest. “Even if we couldn’t quite manage it just now. I know it must be a lot to get used to.”