Page 117 of Born for Lace

Tomar fades away. There is no truck, no howling wind, no beating red sand that rushes the bonnet. Lagos the Rogue is the only thing I see, feel, hear.

A sad smile touches my mouth, tears falling everywhere, their salty kiss reminding me of The Bite. “Will you bring me bananas and chocolate?”

The corner of his mouth turns up, a half-smile. A lovely one, framed by his neat dirty-blonde beard. “I'll find you bananas and chocolate, little flower. All your great experiences. I will provide them all.”

Heisserious. “Will you kiss me?”

His eyes roam my face, mapping, tracing—imprinting. “Every inch.”

“When it's safe?” I confirm, believing him. I believe him. He will. My lower lip wobbles so hard it’s nearly impossible to keep smiling at him. “How long will you stay with me each time you visit?”

“A day.” He looks down and then up again, and my breath catches. That’s it? My heart squeezes. “Perhaps.” He growls, thinking. “I'll find a way. A place close, but outside the community.”

It’s not enough.

I gasp for air; hope is drowning. Scary. It can end in ruin. “How will you get the information to me?”

“Nothing can stop me, little flower. I've broken through The Cradle. Nothing can stop me. No one can stop me from getting to you.”

Stupid feelings rise and bubble over. The ones I have been burying, the ones not fair to Tomar or his loyalties, but they spit out with desperation anyway. “Then why can't we do that now! Find a place. Stay together, and we can have new, great experiences. We can kiss, and I will protect you, and you can protect me, and we will be together."

Pain scores a path across his features, his half-smile falling away. “I have to go with Tomar.”

I can’t look at Tomar right now, afraid he’ll see my misdirected hatred and jealousy, but that isn’t fair. It isn’t…

I nod slowly but don’t feel it. “Because you owe him?—"

“My life,” he finishes.

“And you need to save people.” My voice breaks. I try to smile harder, forcing it, but it’s crooked, and now I am not sure it is a smile. I’m not sure how to smile right now. “That's because...” I inhale a shaky breath. “You'regood,Lagos. I have to share you.”

My words are just as desperate as I am. I need him to know. A sea of unshared affection swirls in his steel-coloured gaze. Then he swallows, his throat rolling before he turns back to face the road, jerks the wheel, and continues down the highway.

I risk a glance at Tomar, who is staring contemplatively out the window, seemingly unfocused and distant.

We drive in silence.

Staring at Spero in the nest beside me, he smiles at my attention. He knows me—I am his person. I will care for him.

Lagos cares for me.

Even though no one cared for him. I think about baby Lagos with no smiles, trapped in a cell. Did they cuddle the babies? Rock them? Sing? In my mind, the babies are in metal cages, but that doesn’t make sense. If they are highly trained, educated, and skilled, Shadows are probably held in fancy facilities, with gymnasiums, the best educators, and modern technology. A clinical setting. White cells, clean sheets. No personality.

Spero will have colours.

Messy sheets.

Too much charm.

I can’t bring myself to smile back at Spero right now. I have so much I want to say to Lagos. Most important of all—I think I love you. But I have no breath left to say it. I feel I’ll need all my strength to say those three words aloud.

Last-light sashes the horizon with red, and I wonder how we will find a tunnel in the dark.

I am drawing little patterns on my thighs, envisioning the farm and the Common men and women, when the truck slows down, the taste of metal slices at my tongue, Spero starts to hiccup and cry, and Lagos hits the brakes right in the middle of the road.

Then he puts it in reverse.

We fly backward. Air rushes into my lungs and my rib flares with pain as the car spins to face the other direction. I grip the handle as we are thrown to the side, and Tomar does the same?—

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