68
I’m still clinging to my father’s hand as I drop my head. I won’t deny that, despite everything, this feels like a sort of relief. I spent so many years in this man’s shadow, trying to mold myself into his version of a person I could never be.
And now it’s over.
I’ll never have to look into his eyes and wonder how he’ll hurt me ever again.
Rapid footsteps sound somewhere nearby, but I can’t find the will to move.
A moment later: “Poet?”
Finally, I look up to see Rook approaching with a gun strapped to his chest. He has a cut on his cheek, another slices across his forearm, and his hair is falling into his eyes.
A moment ago, I thought that ball of magenta light was so remarkable for its beauty, but no, he’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.
“Rook,” I whisper.
Quickly, he runs over and kneels beside me, his gaze jumping between my father and me.
“Is he . . . ?”
I nod. “Yes. He tried to stop Sol from taking me.”
Rook expels a sharp breath. “Are you okay?” he asks, wrapping an arm around me.
“Yeah,” I say. “I think so. We were able to say a few things to each other, and . . . I guess it has to be enough.”
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“He sacrificed himself for me.” I glance up at Rook. “Am I a horrible person if I confess that if it had to be someone, I’m glad it was him and not you?”
He pulls me close and kisses the top of my head. “Not at all. I think he owed you that at the very least.” I lean into Rook, looping my arms around his waist.
“We should get out of here,” he says after a minute. “What happened to Sol?”
I gesture down the street to where her limp body lies on the pavement.
“Oh, fuck,” Rook breathes. “What happened?”
“I used a ball of Spark on her.”
Rook hisses out a sound of disbelief. “That’s— Wow, I didn’t think I could be any more in love with you.”
I huff out a laugh.
“Is she dead?” he asks.
“I have no idea. She hasn’t moved in a while, though.”
He stands up and walks over, then crouches down and presses two fingers to her throat.
“There’s a pulse,” he says. “But it’s weak.”
I take one last look at my father and join Rook, standing over Sol, watching her lifeless face.
Rook pulls his gun to the front of his body. “We could take care of this. End it for good.”
I consider it. It’s what she deserves. But something about taking her life doesn’t feel right.
“No,” I say, laying a hand on his arm. “Don’t let her make you something you’re not.”
“Then we’ll let the Veil come deal with her,” he says, pulling out a phone he’s acquired along the way from his pocket. He types rapidly and then shoves it back into his pants. “Okay?” I nod, and he steps back, taking my hand. “Let’s get out of here. It’s time to go.”
“Rook, I can’t leave my mom. Before my dad died, he asked me to take care of her. Without him, she has no one . . .”
“Then bring her with us,” he says.
His tone is so matter-of-fact that I blink.
“Can I . . . do that?”
“Why not?”
I shake my head. “She won’t come.”
“So convince her, but do it fast.”
“Rook . . .”
“Poet,” he says, drawing me close and placing his hand on my cheek. “We have to leave. You are in more danger than ever. The chancellors know what you can do now, and they’ll try to connect you to their fucked-up little network, and you will be a prisoner forever.”
Tears fill my eyes. I know he’s right.
“I just thought . . . Domino and Journey.”
“I know,” he says. “And I hope we’ll see them again, but for now, this is the only way.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “I just need you to be safe.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Go find your mom,” he says. “I’ll find Navy, Justin, and Edward. Meet me at the rock wall as soon as you have her. Pack a few things if you can.”
“And then what?”
He leans in and kisses me again, his arm banding around my waist as he tips me back and kisses me so hard that it steals the very breath from my lungs.
He pulls away and touches his forehead to mine.
“Then we’re going home.”