Page 152 of Raven

Nilanski, marching next to me, gives me curious glances. “All good?”

“Perfect,” I say. “I will have a short shift, maybe two hours or so.”

“Then I’ll hang out in the hallway and wait.”

First things first, I check on Little when I get to the medical center. His IV drip is out. He sits crossed-legged on the bed, surrounded by candy wrappers and eating Cheetos as he watches videos on the iPad.

“That’s not breakfast, my friend,” I tell him.

He lights up at seeing me. “I had breakfast. Samantha brought me snacks. And Hannah.”

I’m sure he tricked them into it. I ruffle his hair. “A couple of hours, and I’m off. Wanna do lunch with Rave and me?”

“Yes!” He doesn’t look away from me. “Tonight, Maddy, can we watch a movie? And have co-co-nut stuff for dinner? Jus’ you, Rave, and me?”

“You have to ask Rave.”

“’S all good?”

I wink at him. “’S all good,” I repeat, wanting to sing at the top of my lungs.

My phone rings with a message.

Dad: Have a minute to chat?

Me: At work, Dad. Can I call back later?

Dad: Anytime.

God, is he obliging. It’s almost surreal. He’s distracting, too. I constantly have that idling fear that he will do something brutal, like barrel into Zion and yank me away. I still have to ask Raven and my dad about the deal they made. If that’s true, maybe I am free.

My heart clenches at the thought. Raven did that. For me.

I smile, remembering us in the bed this morning. I could finally see him whole, his nakedness, his muscles, toned body, the dark dusting of hair on his chest, his middle cut up with tiny scars and circular ones, another line of hair pointing south.

I didn't hide myself studying him. He watched me as I did.

“I want you like this, naked with me from now on,” I said.

“Even in the medical center?” he joked.

I grinned. “And”—I looked around his room—“can I come here more often?”

He circled my waist with his arm, pulling me close.

“Anytime you want, Mayflower,” he said and kissed me again.

Dark hair, thick eyelashes, light eyes, deep scars, rough hands, and gentle touches. The emotions in his eyes he can’t hide anymore. That’s all I wanted from him—to stop hiding himself.

Smiling, I put the phone into my locker and go to the front desk.

“Where’s Nilanski?” I ask Hannah at the front desk.

She shrugs. “Bathroom. He’s cute, that one. I like him. Unlike Ali.”

The front door whooshes as Skiba walks in. I haven’t seen him in a while, and by the look on his face, something is up.

He motions for me to come over. “Sorry,” he apologizes in a hushed voice. “Something’s come up.”

---