Page 121 of Silver Elite

“I’m not like you. I can’t just ‘accept my fate,’ ” I say, quoting his own words back to him. “I have to think about it first.”

“Really. You think before you act now? Is that why you’re in my quarters?”

“I thought very hard about how to get into your quarters.”

The dimple appears. “Went to a lot of effort to get me alone.”

“Less effort than you think.” I can’t stop a smug smile from surfacing. “I’m better than all the other recruits here. You think Lyddie could have lifted a jammer right out from under Hirai’s nose?”

I unclip it from my belt and set the small black device on the counter. Slide it toward him.

He catches it before it falls off the edge.

“I hope you know you just earned Hirai a reprimand,” Cross says.

“Good. He deserves it. If someone is that unobservant, they should be punished accordingly. In fact, every single guard whom I waltzed right past tonight should be reprimanded. Whoever came up with the sentry schedule, too, because it’s predictable as hell. A couple of nights of recon and anyone can figure out their routines. When Soldier 4615 is going to smoke his euca joint. When Soldier 380 will take a leak in the tunnel behind South Plaza.”

Cross narrows his eyes.

“I wasn’t trying before,” I tell him.

“Clearly.”

“But I’m willing to try now.”

“You let Farren crush your wrist to get cut.”

“That may have been a little…extreme.”

“A little,” he echoes in amusement.

“In my defense, I’d just witnessed your brother kill one of my fellows.” My jaw tightens. “I don’t give a shit what he says. I don’t believe Betima was Aberrant. And I don’t believe my uncle was, either. But if you insist he was, fine. I’ll take your word for it.”

I pick up my glass and swig nearly half of it before putting it down.

“You were right, okay? I can’t go back. Jim is dead. And whatever he was, I’m choosing to remember him as the man who saved me as a child. I know you think I’m lying to you, but I promise you, I didn’t know what he was doing. If he was an Uprising operative, I didn’t know. If he was running missions for them, I—”

“We don’t believe he was,” Cross interjects. “He went into hiding after he deserted. Dormant for fifteen years.”

“Why did he desert in the first place? I tried finding answers on Nexus—”

“I know. Your searches are flagged and sent directly to me.” He cocks a brow. “You searched my name, too.”

No point denying it. “You don’t exist in the Command system. And on Nexus you’re nothing other than the General’s son.”

He shrugs. “That’s all I’ve ever been. The General’s son.”

I suspect he’s right. The moment I found out who his father was, I stopped viewing him as anything but the offspring of Merrick Redden. Maybe that’s a miscalculation on my part. If I’m to destroy this place from within, maybe I need to better understand its players.

His long fingers wrap around the whiskey glass. His hands are mesmerizing. Large. Radiating strength. I watch his throat dip as he swallows. And his chest is taunting me. Why does he have so many muscles?

“Cross.”

We both hear the chord of desperation.

“Are you going to make me beg?”

I don’t miss the flicker of heat in his eyes. “Sounds like something I’d enjoy.”

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