The same words that filled my own thoughts just yesterday. It’s the final confirmation I need.

Me and Benson.

Benson and me.

We’ll take on the world and win.

Benson squeezes my hand. “We should go. Now.”

I nod, feeling sudden confidence in our plan. “How should we leave?” I ask. “I mean, since we have to ditch the car?” The stolen car. Maybe the cops will find it and give it back to whoever it belongs to.

“Greyhound?” Benson suggests. “It’s not luxurious or anything, but it’ll get us far enough away to consider our options. We can park a few blocks from the nearest station and leave the Honda behind. You pick the city,” he says, stepping forward, his face close to mine. “Anywhere you want to go.”

“As long as we’re together, it doesn’t matter.”

He kisses my forehead, then pulls his phone out of his pocket, looking even more like the Superman I’ve always thought of him as. “I’ll look up a bus station and then ditch this in a Dumpster.”

“You got that from a movie.”

He laughs. “Maybe, but the good guys always win in the movies, right?”

I start to turn to get into the car, but Benson holds onto my hands. “When we get on the bus,” he says hesitantly, “we need to talk. Really … talk.”

“Absolutely,” I say, but my heart speeds a little at the look on his face.

“I think we should talk now.”

We both spin at the intruding voice only to see what still appears to be an empty clearing. Then, in a circle around us, we hear the unmistakable click of guns being cocked. I cling to Benson, my eyes scanning the trees. Just as I’m sure no one is going to appear before they shoot us, Jay steps out from behind a tree.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

“Let’s all stay calm,” Jay says in a soft, even tone that makes me want to reach out and smack him. My mind spins with defensive plans.

More cast iron, insta-shotguns, bulletproof glass … assuming I could make something that high tech, which I’m suddenly not convinced is within my capabilities.

But Benson is here.

I won’t risk him.

Can’t risk him.

This is the problem with love.

“Peace offering,” Jay says, drawing my attention back. He’s holding up what I vaguely recognize as several of the organic, all-natural protein bars that Reese keeps around the house.

A weird nostalgia hits me. That will never be my life again.

“No one’s here to kill you, Tave,” Jay says, as though reading my mind. “All of this—” His hand takes in the unseen guns surrounding us, hidden from sight by the broad-leafed trees. “Just a precaution. After what you did to Elizabeth and me, I think it’s understandable.”

He edges forward like he’s approaching a skittish colt. Despite what he just said, he doesn’t seem afraid of me; he looks like he’s worried I’m afraid of him.

Which I am. Terrified. But I don’t want him to know.

The sun is shining down into the middle of the clearing with a vengeance that defies the bitter cold of the last few days, but despite that, my veins are ice water.

“I know you need to eat,” Jay says, still holding out the bars. “I’m not sure what you’ve been doing, but I’ve seen enough Earthbounds on the run to recognize that look; you’re about five minutes away from fainting.”

Even though every nerve in my body is poised to bolt, I force myself to meet his eyes and then take two slow steps forward and snatch the protein bars, immediately retreating back to Benson as soon as the food is in my hand. I rip open the wrapper and take a bite, keeping my eyes on Jay the whole time.

To tell the truth, he looks awful. Those circles under his eyes—they speak of more than sleep deprivation. And his skin has a weird quality to it—like it grew a size too big and is now hanging off him. Melting, almost. “Are you all right, Jay?” I ask through a half-chewed protein bar.

Jay doesn’t answer, just makes a small motion, and Reese and Elizabeth step out from the brush and join him with that same tentative slowness. I’ve already torn open the next protein bar and taken a big bite, but at the sight of those two my mouth turns dry.

Even though I know they were telling the truth.

Even though it was probably a mistake to leave them in the first place.

But they’re still the ones controlling the guns pointed at me—at the guy I love. It’s hard not to think of them as the enemy when they’re pointing weapons at us.

“We just want to talk,” Reese says, before I can speak.

“Why are you doing this?” I ask when the second bar is gone—which takes a remarkably short time, and I’m already opening the third. “I thought you were Curatoria. Aren’t you supposed to help Earthbound?”

Are they?

Supposed to. Or so they say.

Rebecca considered them more trustworthy than the Reduciata, but what kind of standard is that?

“We are,” Reese says. “And we’re trying our damnedest to keep you alive, but you’re not making it very easy.”

The shock of the whole situation is wearing off and I’m not afraid anymore.

I’m pissed.

“If you had trusted me with any amount of information, maybe I wouldn’t have been so high strung. Do you have any idea what the last week has been like for me?” I snap.

“If you had trusted us with any information about what you were experiencing, maybe we could have helped,” she replies without emotion.