“It’s me.”
Wes. I pant under him, my chest rising and falling against his. “Let me go.”
“Are you going to attack me again?”
“You were the one who attacked me.”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t the one who snuck off alone. Jesus, Lydia. What the hell were you thinking?” Instead of getting up, his fingers flex against my wrists, pushing my hands into the dirt. I am suddenly aware of how close his face is, of how heavy his body is against mine.
I clear my throat and turn my head away. “I have to get to New York.”
“At the risk of your life? Just to follow a hunch?”
“It’s not a hunch.”
He lets go and twists his body until he’s sitting next to me. “I forgot how stubborn you are.”
I sit up, brushing a crumpled leaf from my hair. “I thought you were asleep. You weren’t supposed to follow me.”
“I knew you’d try something like this. I was just waiting.”
“I have to go. I know it’s a long shot. I know it’s almost ridiculous to attempt, but the Project isn’t coming. The four of us trying to steal a car together is too dangerous. We have a better chance if we split up. This is the only hope we have. I had to do something.”
“I would have come with you.”
I shake my head. “You wouldn’t have agreed. None of you would. But I know the ad means something. Just let me go.”
He is silent for a minute, watching me. Then he leans forward, resting his arms on his bent knees. “Your face in that cell, the moment you started to believe I didn’t love you, it was the worst thing I’ve ever seen. Worse than all those dead recruits. Worse than the years of brainwashing. I’ll never forget how pale you were. Your eyes were so big and green. I watched a light go out in them.”
I push back, away from him. “I can’t—”
“If you insist on this suicide mission, you need to know the truth first. You have to listen.”
“Please.” But even I don’t know what I’m begging for anymore.
“It killed me to hurt you. You have to know that, Lydia. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
“Then why did you?”
“The Project knew everything and they were coming for you.” His voice lowers. “I thought if I could control the situation then I could protect you.”
“You keep saying that, protect me; you’ve said it since the beginning.”
I let the words hang there, and Wes frowns. “I never did a very good job of it, did I?”
I don’t answer. It is not fully dark yet and around us the forest is so still. The usual sounds of night—crickets chirping, frogs in a faraway bog, the screech of a bird—have disappeared.
“I was supposed to check in with General Walker that morning.” Wes watches me closely, as though he’s afraid I will launch to my feet and start sprinting away at any moment. “When I did he told me they were coming for you and that you’d start the first stage of training as soon as they brought you in. I wouldn’t let that happen to you, but I knew they would reach you before I could. So I made a deal.”
“You gave me up so I wouldn’t be brainwashed,” I whisper.
“It wasn’t just you.” He moves his body until he’s turned toward me, but I cannot bear to see his face right now, even if it is hidden in the deep blue of twilight. “They were going to kill your grandfather. I told Walker he’d have an easier time with you if they used him as collateral, that it would get you into the field faster.”
“You saved us both.” I take a slow breath, feeling the knowledge sink in. He didn’t betray me for no reason. He was trying to keep both my grandfather and me safe.
But now I’m trapped by the Project, and Grandpa is in a cell, sick and alone. Is this life better for him, even if the alternative was death?
No. I won’t let myself think like that. Wes knew that I would always pick the option with hope. He was trying to help, regardless of the outcome.
“Walker was eager to start the assassination mission, so he agreed,” Wes says. “But he was suspicious that maybe I had . . . crossed a line with you.”
I bury my face in my hands. “He made you come to the cell. He made you tell me those things.” My voice comes out muffled.
“I had to prove you meant nothing to me.”
He rises until he’s kneeling. I feel him move closer. His fingers curl around my bare arms. “Lydia, I’m sorry. This isn’t what I wanted for you.”
I let him pull my hands away, let him see the tears that are sliding down my face.
“But they did break me, Wes. I’ve been broken for months.”
“You’re not.” He reaches up and rubs his thumbs across my cheeks and I feel the wetness there, seeping into his skin too. “You’re stronger than you think.”
“I thought I could learn how to block it all out, but I can’t. It’s too much. I hate this life.”
“We’ll get away from it; I swear we will, Lydia.”
“How? We’re being hunted. When we’re not, the Project is everywhere, controlling everything. I don’t even know if that resistance movement is real, if they can help us. There’s no way out.”
His brows are narrowed. “There has to be. I don’t know how we’ll break away. But we will. If we’re together, we can do anything.”
I think of the lies he told from
