“She probably just lost it.”
“You’re Prince Christopher, right?”
“Yep. That’s me.”
“Who is Nicholas then?”
“No idea. Probably some other poor sucker they tried to kill.”
I watch him warily, trying to read his face. Is he lying to me again? What’s true and what’s not? Who is he? I want to ask more questions, but my fatigue is unbearable. I can’t help it. I close my eyes and drift off to sleep.
CHAPTER 41
I’m on the porch at Jin’s house, holding a steaming cup of tea in shaking hands. It’s early morning and the sky is overcast. I feel woozy.
The trip back to the roamer village was exhausting. Afterwards, we spent two hours feeding and calming the racers. Half of them are still distressed after their escape. Samantha cried in my arms for a good twenty minutes before I could manage to put her to bed.
I finish my tea, rise to my feet and go back inside. I cross the living room, carefully stepping over the racers still sleeping on the floor. Trent sits alone in a corner, leaned up against the wall, his expression blank. I slowly approach him, feeling something beginning to melt inside. My hands start shaking again. I suddenly revert back into the girl I was a few months before, one scared to utter a word. I stop in front of him, gazing at his handsome face and dark, familiar eyes. He looks up at me tiredly. I motion for him to follow, and head back toward the doorway.
Outside, I wrap my arms around him, pressing my face against his chest.
“I was missing you so much,” I mutter.
He doesn’t answer. I rise to my tippy toes and kiss his lips, but Trent doesn’t kiss me back. I take a step backward, glancing at him unsurely. What’s wrong? Isn’t he happy to see me?
“What now?” he asks sternly. “Are we prisoners or what?”
“Why do you say that?”
“Why? Perhaps because I’ve been kidnapped by a gang of roamers.”
“We didn’t kidnap you,” I frown. “You know that. I thought Maxine and I already explained everything.”
“Why did you do it, Kora? How could you dare attack Central Settlement and kill your master?”
“I don’t have a master!” I blurt out. “And Samuel killed my mother! I had to avenge her. I had to rescue you and the others. Aren’t you happy to finally be free? Weren’t you always dreaming of freedom?”
“I wanted to earn my freedom, not become a runaway slave. The masters from Central Settlement will be hunting us now! Did you even consider that? They’ll burn us alive when they catch us. We have no safety, no place to go… Should I be happy about that?”
“Trent!” I interrupt. “I promise that everything will be all right. I won’t let anybody hurt you. Please believe in me.”
“How can I trust you? I don’t even know you anymore. What happened to you, Kora? You used to be such a nice girl. When did you become a murderer?” He pauses, looking me over. “And what’s with all that paint on your face?”
“It’s my war paint!” I exclaim, tears welling in my eyes. “I’m a roamer now. That’s who I am. And I’ve never been really good or nice. But I did save your life. You should appreciate that. If I hadn’t returned, Samuel would have fed you and the other racers to the chimeras.”
Trent rolls his eyes. “I think these roamers have you fooled, Kora. They’ve been using you.”
“They didn’t use me. It was my own idea. You can’t imagine how hard it was to persuade Wreck to help me.”
“Who the heck is Wreck?” He scowls. “Is he your boyfriend or something?”
“No, of course not… he’s just a friend.”
“Really?” Trent smirks. “Why is he helping you then? What did you have to do to get his help?”
I don’t say anything more. Why doesn’t he believe me? Why do I even bother trying to answer his embarrassing questions? I should probably just walk away. But of course, the weak and submissive side of me doesn’t allow me to do that.
I lower my eyes and say, “There’s nothing going on between us. Samuel killed his family too, so he wanted to take revenge. I don’t even really like him.” I look into his eyes. “I like you, Trent. And I want to be your girl.”
Trent thinks for a moment, his expression stone-cold.
“I don’t want somebody else’s leftovers,” he says.
My stomach twists into knots. I have a strong urge to grab and shake him, or better yet, punch him in the face. But most of all, I want to make him understand what all I had to suffer through these last few weeks. I crave his sympathy and appreciation. But instead of compassion, he only offers vile remarks.
I turn and leave, heading into the woods, his hurtful words echoing inside my head. I feel shameful and guilty, although I have no reason to feel that way. Once I’m far away from the house, I take out my anger and frustration on a large pine tree. I furiously hit and kick at the trunk. After my hands begin hurting, I sit on the ground, cover my face and start to cry.
I try to persuade myself that Trent is just confused and angry. He must be misdirecting his anger toward me. I realize I shouldn’t care about him and have no reason to cry. But the tears do bring some relief, helping to lessen my anxiety. So I allow myself ten or fifteen more minutes of misery before pulling myself together. I sniffle and sob, wondering whether I’ll ever learn how not to cry. Is my crying a sign of weakness or is it just a physical reaction? I’m not even sure that I’m
