Chapter 41
chapter
forty-one
Haven
I’ve downed more drinks than I can count, and my feet burn from dancing. Sweat drips down my nape, and my cheeks ache from smiling.
“I need the bathroom,” I yell to Mercy.
“Do you need help?” she asks.
She’s been nursing the same drink since we got here and is stone-cold sober. I can tell she isn’t quite enjoying herself. This isn’t her scene. If Ender lets me see her in the next few days, I will take her to the library or the park. Somewhere she can enjoy herself.
“No.” I giggle. “I can use the toilet myself, Mer-Mer.”
I climb shakily down the stairs, walking like a newborn colt. I survive the descent and turn the corner when my shoulder hits a broad chest. I stumble backwards, and a pair of strong hands catch my arms instantly.
“Careful.”
The voice is low and deep.
An itch tickles my brain. Grayson had a rule. What was it?
It hits me like a ton of bricks.
We were not supposed to go down. Not until Ender and his friends left.
My breath stutters as I look up. I take my time, knowing exactly who I’ll see. That deep, husky voice belongs to one person alone.
Ender Vale.
His eyes brush over me, lingering for a second on my bare thighs. The bustling noise seems to dim around us as he studies me.
“Vale,” I breathe.
His hand is still wrapped around my elbow.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he says lowly.
His eyes dip again, before returning to my face. Something dark flashes in his expression before his jaw tightens.
“What are you doing here, Warrick?” he asks in that demanding tone. “It’s past curfew.”
“It’s my birthday,” I say with a big grin.
The staff gave me a glittering, silver crown at Gray’s request, along with a sash. I point to my head, as if he didn’t already see the silly thing.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
I hesitate. Even though Gray got us day passes, I don’t think Ender will approve. My brain is all fuzzy, but I know I shouldn’t tell him anything. He can’t be trusted.
“I should go,” I whisper. “Let’s pretend that we didn’t see each other, okay?”
I turn around to climb up when his hand clamps around my elbow. My skin burns where his fingers curl. And I exhale sharply.
“I’ll join you,” Ender says.
His voice is dark and laced with something unreadable.
“No,” I rush. “Go back to your friends.”
I spread my arms, blocking the staircase, which is dumb, but my drunken mind thinks it’s a brilliant idea, and that somehow my 5’4 self can outpower him.
“Vale, please, go away,” I whine. “It’s my birthday, and nobody likes you. You’ll ruin the mood.”
Ender’s brow thunders.
“You like me.”
I laugh, nearly doubling over at his words. I clutch my stomach, struggling to keep upright. My eyes sting with tears. That is by far the funniest thing he’s ever said to me.
Ender steps forward, chest brushing mine.
“Or maybe you only like me when my tongue is shoved down your throat,” he says lowly.
A shiver crawls up my back. I climb backwards until I’m three steps higher. Even with the added distance, he still towers over me.
His finger slips beneath my chin, a cold smile gracing his lips.
“Maybe you only like me when my hands are on you.”
His hands drop to my waist, pulling me towards him. I don’t realize that he’s dragged me a step down. My fingers rest on his chest. And I swallow as he bends down to whisper in my ear.
“Admit it,” he says softly. “Admit that you think about me, desperately, madly, constantly. Because I want nothing more than for you to feel half as wretched as I do.”
I blink, struggling to untangle his confusing words. It takes me a second to understand that he is gone. He is marching upwards like a man possessed.
I rush after him, but it’s too late. He sees our booth. He sees Gray.
Gray’s cheeks are stained with a smear of red. I must have kissed him to thank him for this celebration, but from Ender’s rigid posture, you would think I had sex with him in public.
Everyone stills. There are a few other people up here, but none of them are aware of the storm that just crashed in.
Panic surges through me. I can sense this getting ugly, very, very soon. Ender’s body vibrates, and I clutch the back of his shirt.
“Vale, don’t make a scene,” I plead. “Please.”
“Too late.”
He marches ahead of me, slipping out of my hold. Gray stands abruptly, bracing his feet. They study each other like two animals seizing each other up.
A dark cloud falls over the booth.
“Sullivan,” Ender says icily. “What an unpleasant surprise.”
“Sorry,” I mouth to Grayson.
This is all my fault.
Ender’s gaze settles on Gray’s drink. “On duty?”
“No,” Gray answers.
His jaw is tight. I can tell he doesn’t like answering to him, but Ender outranks him. If not for his role as Commandant, then because he is the Supreme Director’s son.
“Interesting,” Ender says. His gaze turns to Mercy. “Is that my wife?”
Gray’s face grows wan. I swallow nervously.
“Did you break into my house?” Ender asks. His voice is as hard as stone. “And steal from me?”
The air stills, and I sense Mercy approach me, splitting away from the others who stand on the dancefloor, eyes wide with horror. She wraps her fingers around mine, giving me the strength I need.
“It was my fault,” I say.
Ender ignores me, not taking his eyes off Grayson.
Gray’s jaw tightens. “I can explai—”
“I don’t care to hear your pathetic excuses,” Ender hisses.
He looks like he’s holding himself back from strangling him. People glance our way, sensing the tension. The security guards watch us, but they know who Ender is. They won’t come between them, not even if he beats Grayson to a bloody pulp.
“Do you know the punishment for a crime of this level?” Ender asks. “I reckon the High Justice will give you fifty years for it, but with a word from me, we can have it increased to sixty.”
Mercy gasps, staring at me with wide eyes. I feel a little sick, both from drinking too much and because Ender looks like he is seriously considering having him arrested.
“Vale,” I say shakily. “That is enough.”
I’ve never seen him lose control like this.
“Your wife has a sister, a family. She is not a prisoner,” Grayson says. “This is not fair.”
“You can explain your case to the High Justice,” Ender says. “I tire of this.”
“She’s not a hostage,” I say.
Ender doesn’t look at me. “This doesn’t involve you, Warrick.”
“She wanted to leave, and she is free to do that,” I say. “She is my sister. Mine.”
He finally looks at me, and I worry that he is about to dig into me, too.
“Leave her out of it,” Gray says, taking a protective step towards me. “This was my call. She had nothing to do with it.”
Ender’s focus settles on him again.
“You’re very fond of bad calls, Sullivan,” Ender says snidely. “This one could cost you everything.”
I tire of this conversation. I wrap my fingers around Ender’s forearm, dragging him to the closest corner. My nails dig in because he deserves to hurt after that. I’m half-surprised that he lets me pull him away. I expected him to resist.
“You’re going to stop this,” I say, stabbing my finger into his chest with each word. “Right. This. Second. Vale.”
“You want me to drop it?” Ender asks. “You want Sullivan to get off scot-free for kidnapping your sister?”
“It wasn’t kid—”
“Answer the question,” he cuts me off.
“Yes,” I say, between clenched teeth. “I do.”
“Kiss me,” he says. His tone sharp and caustic.
“What?” I whisper.
“Here, while he watches, kiss me,” Ender says.
“But my sister is right there. My friends will be confused,” I say. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Your lipstick is smeared,” Ender says. His fists fold beside him. “It’s on his cheek.”
“I was thanking him for this great night, for making me happy, and for helping me bring Mercy along. Everything was perfect until you showed up,” I say. “You can’t help it, can you? Your need to destroy.”
My throat tightens, and it takes everything in me not to slide out the gun in his holster and shoot him in the head. They confiscated our weapons before we entered. But of course, the rules don’t apply to the great Ender Vale.
“Sixty years of prison or one kiss,” Ender says coldly. “The choice is yours.”
“I hate you,” I choke out. “I hate you so much it hurts.”
Ender’s fingers drift along my cheek, tenderly, devoutly.
“I need you,” he whispers. “So much it hurts.”
“Then why do you hurt me?” I ask.
“I could ask you the same thing,” he replies.
Ender turns back around and returns to the group. He exchanges a few clipped words with Grayson, who nods in response, clearly not wanting to ruffle his feathers anymore. A server arrives with a payment machine. Ender draws out his Smart Card before Grayson can settle the bill and clicks it once.
“Come,” Ender says. Fingers wrapping around my wrist. “I’m taking you home.”
“What did you say to Grayson?”
“He will be punished for this, but he won’t go to prison,” Ender replies. “Even though I think he deserves it. A few years at Knife’s Edge would set his head on straight.”
Knife’s Edge is the worst prison in New Foundry. Two others compete for that title, but Knife’s Edge wins by a landslide. It is poorly funded and built at the edge of the Wastes. The walls are half-ice, and limbs are cut off at the root from frostbite every month.
Relief slides down my spine.
“Thank you.”
“Knox will take your sister home,” he says. “Can you walk or shall I carry you?”
“Shouldn’t you take Mercy home and Knox and I return to the Forge?”
“I’m not leaving you alone when you’re like this.”
“I’m fine.”
I take a step forward and stumble. Ender bends down before I can recover and lifts me in his big arms.
“Put me down!” I shriek.
“Shut up.”
“I’m serious.” I pound his chest. “Now, Vale.”
He carries me downstairs, and I hide under the crook of his neck. I don’t know where his friends are, but the last thing I want is for them to see me being carried to the front door by our leader.
Knox approaches us, smiling at my distress.
“Fancy, seeing you here, recruit,” he drawls.