The Pledge
Page 42

Angelina lifted her head, letting us know that she was still awake . . . still listening. Then she settled back down without saying a word.
“I’m sorry. About everything. I didn’t know you. I didn’t realize—” Sydney was nervous, and I was glad it made her uneasy to admit to what she’d done in the past.
I didn’t say anything to make it easier for her, I just waited.
She shrugged. “If I could change things . . .” I could almost hear her sigh; I could feel the tension of her regret. “Anyway, I’m really sorry.”
I just nodded; it was all I could do. I couldn’t tell her that it was okay, because it wasn’t.
Max sat quietly, and I wondered
how much he knew, or at least suspected. Up until now, he’d been more perceptive than I cared to admit. Did he remember that Sydney was the girl from my parents’ restaurant that night? Or did he pick up on the fact that we had a history that went back farther than that? Did he recognize all that her quiet apologies meant?
If he did, he kept his opinions to himself, and for that, I was grateful.
Sydney watched me for several seconds, silent currents of understanding passing between us, before she eased back again, settling against the wall behind her. I felt bad that she couldn’t lie down completely, to recover in comfort. The solid wall was the best we could offer her at the moment. She closed her eyes, too exhausted to complain.
Now it was just the two of us, Max and me. And about a thousand other people around us.
XI
“Do you want to tell me what happened back there? At the entrance?”
Max shifted closer, as if to tell Cs iome a secret. As if he wasn’t close enough already. His charcoal eyes looked almost black in the darkness. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he answered, his lips very nearly brushing against mine.
I jerked backward, bumping into the man behind me.
“I think you know exactly what I’m talking about. Those guards didn’t let us in here out of the goodness of their hearts—they made themselves more than clear that the shelter was closed. That guard even had his gun pointed at me,” I hissed. “Yet something happened to change his mind.” I tried to lean forward the way Max had, wanting to appear confident, meaning to intimidate him. Except that he didn’t retreat, and instead I found myself dangerously close to him once more. I hoped that he couldn’t hear the sound of my heart pounding. “I think you had something to do with that.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, and then he reached out and laid his hand against my cheek, enjoying himself far too much. I was certain that everyone could hear my heart now. “It was my uniform.” He said it so quietly that I almost couldn’t hear his words at all.
I shook my head in denial, not yet ready to believe it was that simple, but his hand stayed against my face, his fingertips inching their way into my hairline. His thumb moved down to the corner of my mouth, and I closed my eyes. I should have shrugged his hand away then. I told myself that I didn’t want him to touch me . . . that his touch meant nothing, less than nothing.
His hand remained where it was, his thumb poised beside my lips. I opened my eyes, watching as he gazed at my mouth.
“You are so beautiful.”
“Stop it,” I breathed. “That’s not an answer.”
His thumb moved, ever so slightly, tracing a sensitive path along my lower lip. Goose bumps shivered along my spine. “You didn’t ask me a question.”
I stared at him and I asked, “Who are you?”
It was as if I’d jolted him with a shock of electricity. His hand dropped away from my mouth, from my face. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, where do you come from, Max? What class were you born into? What language is it that you speak?” I tried to think of all the questions that I’d been saving, and all the things I’d been afraid to even wonder. “And why are you here when the city is under attack? Isn’t there someplace else you need to be?”
His jaw tightened, the muscles there leaping. “I am exactly where I need to be.”
“You know what I mean. Shouldn’t you be with your battalion? Won’t you get in trouble for not being with them?” I hadn’t realized that I was practically shouting until several heads turned in our direction. I bit my lip and shot an angry glare at Max for embarrassing me like that, silently blaming him for my outburst.
This time when he leaned close, the danger wasn’t imagined, and it wasn’t desire that stoked my fears.
His teeth were clenched. “How about we swap secrets, Charla Bs i a Charla ina? I’ll answer your questions, if you answer mine.” He raised an eyebrow as he slipped easily into that same dialect he’d spoken before . . . the one I’d never heard until the night I’d first laid eyes on him. The one I shouldn’t be listening to.
I didn’t like where this was going, and my stomach clenched painfully.
“Never mind,” I threw back at him, this time keeping my voice whisper soft. “I don’t care what happened back there. I don’t want to know anything about you or where you’re from. In fact, the sooner we get out of here, the better, and then you don’t ever have to worry about me snooping in your life again.”
“Come on, Charlie, it’s just getting interesting. You don’t want to stop now, do you?”
“Leave me alone,” I hissed, turning my head away, my cheeks burning with anger and shame and regret.