You.
When I dare to look at him, I see how it crushes him.
He sinks into the chair and scrubs a hand over his face. “Then we don’t have a choice. You have to leave now.”
“I can’t.”
“Rebecca…”
“I’m not leaving you.”
His fists clench as he leans forward. “This isn’t a game. I know you think you’re doing the noble thing by helping the poor tortured orphan, but you’re not. You can’t begin to understand the damage you’ll cause. You have to leave while you can. Soon you won’t be able to.”
I flinch at the pain in his voice. The way his gaze flickers with each word. What must it be like to force away the only person who cares about you? The only person who knows who you are? How long has he been stuck in this prison alone? There’s no way I’m letting him do it.
“And I’m telling you. I. Can’t,” I say. I won’t, I add mentally.
He slams his fist on the chair. “Dammit, Rebecca! You don’t know this place. They’re going to use us against each other.”
“So tell me! Stop trying to protect me from the truth and tell me what it is I don’t know.” I haven’t even finished my speech when the stony mask falls into position on his face.
“You know I can’t do that.”
“Then, I guess we have a problem.” I meet his glare and cross my arms, waiting. “They haven’t used us against each other yet,” I continue when it’s clear he won’t.
“No?” he challenges back, and I swallow.
“Not seriously.”
“What do you think group was today?”
“Clausen being a jerk.”
He shakes his head. “That was about you, not me. If what you said is true and he knows your trigger, then he knows the best way to get to you is by attacking me. That was mild. It’s only going to get worse. That was a test, and we failed.”
“If you knew that, why did you give in?” I regret the accusation the second it comes out.
His gaze turns cold. “I can take a lot but I’m not invincible. You know what? This is a waste of time. I’m compromising everything that’s kept me alive for the last eleven years just by being here. Believe me or fucking don’t.” He brushes past me, igniting a sudden panic in my blood.
“Daniel, wait!” I grab his arm, and he looks back in irritation. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that in the way it sounded. You’re right, I don’t understand. Make me understand. Please?”
My grip tightens on his sleeve, but I can’t read his expression.
“Words won’t make you understand. Only they will, and then it’s too late.”
“There’s another way.” I shift my gaze to his hand, letting it rest for a moment before meeting his eyes again. When he softens slightly and nods, I slide my hand down his arm to his fingers. I immediately gasp and let go.
“What is it?”
“How often do you wear that shirt?”
He glances down at his chest. “Often. Why?”
“We have to go! Do you have a place where we can hide?”
“What? Just tell me what you saw.”
“Not now. We have to go!”
