Page 20 of The Danger Kiss

I had been assaulted by a group of thugs, following a chase that started all the way from the Diesel Dome and ended at the edge of the docks. Dalek had appeared and helped me fight them off, the memory so old and distended I could barely recall how I survived. I had used my powers, at full force and without qualms.

I had almost died then. Dalek had carried me to his home, nursed my wounds, and helped me heal. He’d used his powers on me, to keep my own powers under control. He’d fed me mostly ice cream and bread.

In those days, I believed I loved him. I didn’t know if I loved him as a friend, an older brother, or a protector. All I knew was that I had loved him, in all simplicity possible from such a complex and now distant feeling.

“I know I hurt you when I left, Blanca. But there were things I couldn't tell you. I knew you were a Zola, it was easy enough to figure that part out. I guess knowing that made my decision back then clearer.”

"Did you ever think about how your actions would affect me? Did I even matter to you?”

"Of course you mattered to me, more than you’ll ever know! You must know that I didn't want to leave you, but I had to.”

“Because of what?”

“Blanca, please, now isn’t the time to talk about this.”

I shook my head. “When would be the right time, then? In another fifteen years? I was a child, Dalek, you could have just told me goodbye and brought me back to the Dome."

He laughed bitterly. “Would you have let me? Would you have decided to leave Asphalt City on your own if I was there?”

“I don’t know.”

“You know better than that, Blanca. You can hate me all you want, but I knew you didn’t wish to leave while you were at my home. That’s why I had to take you back without letting you know. You are a Zola, and you don’t belong in a place like this.”

“You have no right to tell me that.”

“Perhaps. But your name does possess the right to say anything and everything about what you do. We both know that.”

It was difficult to argue with logic like his.

“You make it sound like you had no choice,” I said, hearing the bitterness and pain in my own voice.

“I never did,” he replied ruefully.

We stared, silently, at each other. I wrapped my arms around my body, hoping the gesture would stem the flood of emotions roiling in my chest.

“Can we talk about this elsewhere?” he offered hesitantly. “I don’t live in the old house anymore, but my new place is just outside Project D.”

“I know,” I admitted. “I went to the old house.”

“I thought you would. That’s why I’m here. I came to find you the moment I heard the news you were back in town.”

I wanted to ask how. I wanted to ask him why.

There were so many questions, so much unsaid.

Instead, I made the simplest declaration I could. “I think I’m angry at you.”

He nodded. “That’s good. That’s something.”

In the same breath, he put his arms around me. My head landed just where his heart should be.

For the first time in fifteen years, I was hugged again.

“I’m still angry.”

“I’m still sorry,” he answered. “But you’re here now.”

seven

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