Deviation (21 page)

“You’d be openly defying him if you did that,” Linc says.

“Yes.”

“You couldn’t stay here any longer,” he points out.

“No.”

Something in Linc’s expression lights and a warning bell sounds in my head. “Hear me out. What if I told you I could get you out of here right now, get you somewhere safe without Titus knowing. Not to Morton and the others. Somewhere else. We could be gone and free of your GPS before he could find us—”

“No.” I withdraw my hand from his. “I already told you, I’m not leaving. I can’t help them unless I’m
her
.”

“You can’t help them as her, either,” he snaps. “You have no freedom, no access. My idea could change that. If we get the help—”

“How many times do I have to tell you?” I ask. “I don’t want to run away just because it gets tough.”

His eyes flash. “Tough? He beats the crap out of you. You’re a prisoner here. We both are.”

My anger rises just as swiftly as his. “Well, don’t let me hold you back. You can leave anytime,” I snap back.

“Ven …” Just like that, his anger vanishes and he’s reaching for me, taking my wrists and pulling me back to him. This time, he leans in and adjusts our bodies so that we’re pressed together in all the areas that matter.

My heart gallops away at the sensation of his touch. It doesn’t matter how many layers of fabric separate us, I feel his body against mine as if we’re both naked. My skin tingles and my breath catches.

“Do you know how hard it was for me to let you go with him tonight? I followed you as far as I could. I knew you were in there with him. But I had no way of getting to you. I had to just wait and—God, do you have any idea what that’s like?”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, even though none of it is my fault.

Linc’s eyes are fastened on mine. His determination and intensity speak volumes. In a low voice, something between a growl and an oath he says, “I will never leave you, Ven. Not ever. In this life or the next. I swear it.”

The tears that well up in my eyes are completely irrational yet I can do nothing to hold them back. They slip down my cheeks before I can blink them away. I duck and hide my face in the crook of his neck. “I don’t have a next, Linc.” I sniffle. “This is my only life and then I’m nothing.”

“You’re not nothing,” he says fiercely. “You’re an angel. An original. Individually beautiful inside and out. Don’t let Titus or his society make you believe otherwise. And more than any of that, you’re mine. My family. My future.”

I don’t answer. Anything I say will be washed away by sobbing if I open my mouth now.

“Look at me,” he says. I remain where I am, unwilling to sit up and break away from the warmth of his body. I have never enjoyed any other place in the world as much as this little pocket between his shoulder and chin.

When I don’t move, he gently lifts me away until I’m facing him. The way he studies me makes me feel nervous and special at the same time. If I had a soul, it would be bared in this moment. Tension flares between us, stretching into the silence like a taut wire.

“Ven, I mean it. If you don’t believe it for yourself, believe it for me. When you look at me, I want you to remember I love you for who you are on the inside. You are you, no one else. And you don’t need to be her. Not for Titus, not for Morton and the others, and certainly not for me. Okay?”

I nod.

“Tell me something. Do you care for me?”

“Of course. More than I—more than I thought possible,” I say.

“A copy of someone else would only care for what that person cares for. You are your own person, Ven. You’re
my
person now, and I need you to be safe. Make choices that keep you safe. Not just for yourself, but for me. Can you do that?”

I want to cry and laugh and kiss him. “Yes. I can do that.”

“Good. So, first—”

“Don’t tell me to run.”

He grimaces. “Fine. I won’t. Not yet.” He casts his eyes to the ceiling and then says, “First, we should talk to Daniel.”

My brow lifts. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean, are you sure you only want to talk?”

“Depends on what he says. For now, yes, talking is all that’s on the agenda.”

“And why should we talk to Daniel?”

“I think he knows more than he lets on.” It’s clear by his tone how hard it is for him to admit Daniel might be more than just someone to beat on. Someone worthy of conversation.

“What do you mean?” I think back to Daniel’s cryptic words to me that day I visited him in his cell.

“He said something to me last night—”

I’m thrown sideways, off Linc’s lap and onto the cushion beside him, as the knob engages.

The door opens and Maria pushes a breakfast cart into the room. I straighten and lean away from Linc, frantically smoothing my hair and sweater. Heat rises to my cheeks.

My panic is delayed and then visible as my expression shifts and freezes on the pile of disabled devices at Linc’s feet. It takes me a moment to realize Linc has covered them with his boot. Maria’s eyes flick over us, settling on me before following my gaze to Linc’s boot. Her brows wrinkle. She gives me a searching look as she wheels the cart to a stop in front of us.

“Breakfast. You two eat,” she says.

My stomach growls, suddenly ravenous at the suggestion of food. “Thank you, Maria,” Linc says. Maria nods and backs toward the door.

“Maria, how is Sofia?” I blurt before she can retreat.

She stops and considers me. Concern and a deep-set disgust fill her features. “She will mend.” Her eyes flick to Linc. “Thank you,” she says, although it’s curt. I realize she must think we’re being listened to. “I owe you for what you did.”

I make my way toward her and, although she looks like a spooked animal, I hug her anyway. She doesn’t hug me back but she doesn’t move away, either. I squeeze lightly and smile at her. “You don’t owe him anything. He didn’t do it for a favor.”

She shakes her head and, for a moment, the fear and sorrow break through in the form of brimming tears. Her hands shake and she grabs her apron and balls the fabric in her fists. “He’s everywhere. Always listening,” she whispers. “Don’t let him hear you care. He’ll only use it against you.”

“He can’t hear us now,” I whisper back. “Your words are safe.”

She looks as if she doesn’t quite believe me and glances at Linc. I look back at him in time to see him raise his foot, revealing all of the disabled listening devices. Maria’s eyes widen. She looks at him and back at me. “Don’t trust it,” she finally whispers, shaking her head as if to clear it.

I get the impression she’s talking
about
me rather than
to
me and my heart sinks.

She straightens, squares her shoulders. “Sofia will be fine. Back to work by this afternoon,” she says in a clipped voice. She closes the door with a decided click as she leaves.

My shoulders fall. Linc is right there to envelop me. His arms are warm and solid, chasing away the shakiness of the moment. “Don’t blame yourself. She’s seen too much to trust her eyes,” he says softly into my ear.

His hands rub up and down my back, smoothing the stress away. Eventually, his hands find their way from my back to my hair and then my face. I lean into his palm and he cups my cheek. The tension from earlier returns and I’m swept away by the look in his eyes and the welling feeling in my chest that I can’t name.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, tracing a line from my temple to jaw with his fingertip.

I lower my lashes, deflecting the compliment out of habit, but he doesn’t let me get away with that. He hooks his finger underneath my chin, forcing my gaze back to his. “You should look at me when I tell you you’re beautiful,” he says softly

“Why?” A flush colors my cheeks.

“Because, someday, I want you to realize it for yourself.”

His words seem to go beyond any surface meaning. I consider it carefully, still holding his gaze. When I can’t stand to be studied any longer, I press my lips to his cheek. “You make me feel beautiful, Linc. Thank you.”

Our lips collide, falling over top of one another to get enough. Enough contact, enough sensation, enough fulfillment. There isn’t enough of any of those to make me want to stop.

My feet move without much prodding on Linc’s part. In no time, I am backed against the wall next to the closed door and my sweater lands somewhere near my feet, leaving only my thin blouse. I want more. I have no idea where this came from, but I love that he’s no longer being careful. I am not as breakable as he sometimes treats me and this is such a welcome and thrilling change; I don’t want it to end before I’ve taken all I can get from it.

His kisses are heavy and hot, his mouth slick as it slides over mine. My arms slide around his neck of their own accord, my fingers pressing against his hair and pulling him tight against me. Something foreign and euphoric is building below my belly, like a volcano stirring from dormancy.

It’s not enough to meet our mouths. I press the length of my body against his. Taut muscles and lean flesh press back against me. I shiver, enjoying the hard lines and the way his skin contours near his hips. The pressure in my stomach builds, pushing lower into my hips. It travels lower still, between my thighs. My hands roam to his waist, to the edge of his jeans. I yank him by the belt loops, pulling him as close as I can and pressing out with my own hips.

Linc groans and pulls back slightly. I am terrified he will stop, leaving me breathless and unsatisfied. “Linc, don’t stop,” I whimper.

He lets out a growl and, in answer, recaptures my mouth with his own. His kisses are hungry and searching and I pour all of my fear and uncertainty into every one, drowning it out with my passion.

I have no idea how to satisfy the strange ache, but my instincts have me pressing harder into Linc. His hand travels down my hip and brushes the hem of my shirt. Warm fingertips slip underneath the fabric, grazing my bare skin. I let out a soft moan.

He buries his face in my neck, pressing kiss after kiss to the sensitive skin between my earlobe and my collarbone. I cling to him, my hands clutching the fabric of his shirt.

“Ven …” he says, before trailing off with more kisses, his hand still teasing the skin near my stomach.

“More,” I demand, unsure what else there is but needing it in the same way I need oxygen. His hands move up my torso. Goose bumps break out on my arms and abdomen in delicious anticipation.

A chime pierces the otherwise silent room. Linc’s hands go still.

It takes a moment to register the sound. Linc’s hands fall away, sliding into his pocket to retrieve his phone. “Shit,” he says, blinking at me as if to clear the fog.

“What is it?” I ask over the sound of the chiming.

“Titus,” he says grimly. My shoulders go slack as the spell is broken. The inferno inside me is snuffed out. Linc swipes a button and brings the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

I can hear the bass that is Titus speaking on the other end but no words penetrate the cobwebs of my still-dazed mind.

Linc’s mouth presses together in a hard line. He listens and nods, only speaking a few times and even then, his answers are short and clipped “yes-sirs.” When they finally hang up, I’ve recovered from our kissing enough to be impatient.

“What is it?” I ask as soon as he disconnects.

Linc’s hand finds mine and he winds his fingers through my own. “Titus says to stop kissing you,” he says.

I stare back at him in horror and whisper as low as I can without being heard, “I thought you got them all.”