“He thinks he loves me as I believe you do,” I say matter-of-factly, maintaining eye contact so she can’t misinterpret my intentions for something else.
“But you kissed me,” comes her reply.
“Only after I promised I would.”
“You saved me from Star….”
Her words are running out of steam. “Because I promised Brody, and by extension your father, I would keep you safe.”
“The second kiss?”
The way she holds on to hope is what forces me to break her heart once and for all. “What we needed at the time. I’m sor—”
“No!” she says, settling herself back down. Soon she’s sniffing, and the section of my ribbed shirt where her eye is grows damp. “Don’t apologize.” Despite her sniffling, the last part comes out calmly, albeit softly.
“I should go.”
I haven’t even shifted to get up when she grabs my shirt and practically lies on top of me to keep me from moving—an arm and a leg slung over my body. My muscles tense. I wait.
“Please,” she whispers. “Don’t go. Stay with me tonight.”
“I don’t think—”
“Please!” There’s a hint of desperation in her voice.
In an effort to relax my muscles, I inhale deeply several times. The act is made harder by her jasmine-laced scent. My insides rot for what I have done. Regardless, I know in my heart of hearts this is the right thing, for both her and me. I meant what I said. Since my parents’ death, I’ve loved no one as much as my car and racing. Not even Brody can come close. Not even Slipstream.
Finally I let my own tears flow when they come. I close my eyes and let Zamara’s quiet sobs lull me into sleep.
A COLD gust wakes me. I snort and jerk to a sitting position. Disoriented, I search for a clock, then remember I’m in a tent. I pat for my phone, but it’s not anywhere on me. That’s when my gaze lands on the bed. I’m alone.
I do a quick scan of the tiny space and find no sign of Zamara. “What the hell time is it?”
Bedlam should have woken me up ages ago if I’m to trust my intuition and internal clock. A watch usually lasts about four hours. I step out of the tent and head into my own. My phone is beside the small washbowl. I pick it up and squint at the digital numbers, then make a mental calculation. It’s been approximately six hours since I arrived at Zamara’s tent. Where the hell could she be?
Waking myself further by splashing water on my face, I shove aside my concern for her in favor of locating Bedlam. For the first time since the IC started, I shrug on my knives. If I’m to take watch, I’ll come prepared. The tightness of my muscles be damned. Then I put on my jacket. When I finish my Star shift, I’ll find Zamara… and do what? I pause outside my tent. I’ve already made things clear that I’m in no position to return her feelings—no matter how misguided they are. She loves the woman she believes I am. The one she sees getting into a car and taking command of a race. She doesn’t know more than that about me. I’m nothing but an illusion to her. She must have left to go sulk in private. That’s what I would have done if she didn’t stop me and I hadn’t fallen asleep.
Zipping up my jacket, I head toward where I believe Star’s tent is. It’s not until I reach the edge of the encampment that I realize just how far removed Star liked her place. Drivers get to choose the location of their tent. Since Star usually doesn’t go to bed alone, having her quarters farther away seems like the right choice.
I expected to see Bedlam stationed somewhere outside, but from the looks of the darkness in the tent and the lack of even his shadow gracing the vicinity, they must be somewhere else. I look inside to confirm it’s empty. Although the bed does look slept in. Only my confidence at Bedlam’s self-control keeps me from suspecting he’s fallen for her charms.
A faint splashing catches my attention. In a camp so silent, it’s hard to mistake the sound. It’s barely dawn. Not many should be up and about. I follow the splash, splash, splash. Like some kind of liquid is being thrown at something.
Soon I reach the border of the second checkpoint. A pinpoint of light in the distance draws me farther away. Must be a lamp. Then three dark shapes come into view. The splash, splash, splash continues. My feet move of their own volition like I’m on autopilot until I’m only a few yards away. When my eyes adjust to the darkness not fully chased away by the lamp, I stop, unable to move anymore because of what I’m seeing.
I gasp in horror.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I WISH my eyes had never adjusted to the darkness. I wish for many things. Unfortunately, what I’m seeing will forever haunt even my waking hours. My blood runs colder than the biting air of what is left of the silent night. How could I have been so blind?
Yards away are two metal poles driven into the packed dirt. They are as thick as a medium-sized tree trunk and come to my waist in height. Tied there are two people. They are seated with their hands secured behind them around the poles. Keeping their heads from bowing forward are collars attached to the metal. Nasty rags gag their mouths. One of them is conscious while the other is in the process of regaining consciousness. A third person is circling the one groaning awake and dousing her in… gasoline, judging from the acrid stench burning up my nostrils. That’s where the splashing is coming from. None of them have noticed me yet. All my limbs tremble, both from fear and mounting anger. I resort to curling my fingers into my palms,
