Page 95 of The Order

“I’m not sure what I am,” I answer honestly, still not ready to give him the whole truth.

“You know what they're doing with them?” I question, feeling how his thumb rolls over my cheeks, bringing warmth to the skin.

“I know what they have done and will continue to do. How did you manage to pry away a chip and live to tell the tale?” he questions, my hand running along the space behind his ear where a scar should be if he’d removed his chip, too.

“You never got one?” I question, watching his jaw clench.

“I came to New Haven much later than most,” he says, the black ink revealing something painting the skin beneath his collar bone, concealed almost entirely by his uniform.

I lower my hand from his head, leaning my body into him, feeling his arms enclose around me. His body radiates warmth. A warmth I could live in. A heat I felt in every fleeting memory I have of Fallan. I think of his blue eyes and how his black curls frame his face. Those eyes hold onto me like something from a dream I do not want to wake from. Yet here I stand, seeking that same comfort from another.

“Your father has assigned me and Adam to pay your Unfortunate friend a visit,” Xavier says, his grasp slightly tightening around me.

My father may not remember all of his newfound anger toward Fallan, but that does not mean he did not share his worries with those closest to him.

“He asked you to see Fallan?” I question, watching a quick look pass over Xavier’s eyes, disappearing before I can think too much about it.

“He asked us to do more than see Fallan. He asked us to make sure he doesn't come near you again,” Xavier says, my mind racing back to the footage.

“How much do you know about him?” I question, keeping my head pressed to his chest, unable to look at him.

“I know you and your brother have treated him and his companion with respect our people don't think they deserve.”

He doesn't know about what happened on the porch.

“I will do what I can to make sure he and his friend don't get hurt,” Xavier says, pulling my chin up to look at him.

“I wouldn't mind Adam receiving a few hits of his own,” Xavier continues, flashing his perfect smile down at me.

So different from the rest. Someone willing to break every norm, no matter what it means for him.

“When is he making you go?” I question, watching Xavier’s head shake.

“Could be today, could be tomorrow. They’re keeping tabs on him, and your dad is going to reach out to us when he wants us to leave.”

No wonder my father's devices were going off. When he wakes, he will see all the messages and only have one train of thought… visiting Fallan.

The door to my father's study slams shut, followed by the loud footsteps of him walking toward the living room. Xavier’s pocket glows bright, buzzing to life with each new message. We both look at its screen as he pulls it out.

Deviant left his home. Time to go.

I silently curse to myself, hitting nothing but a wall of energy I cannot get past each time I try and reach into my mind to warn Fallan. Xavier sighs again, swiping away another message from my dad urging him to get outside and join Adam and him on their ride to the Unfortunate sector.

“I find no pleasure in any of this,” he whispers, keeping his hands at my waist, allowing himself to tug me closer. My heart rate begins to escalate as I feel his hand dip under the bottom of my shirt, exploring my bare back with soft touches. “I've wanted nothing more than to bring myself back to that moment outside the hospital and get away from all of this,” his hands move up higher, finding my spine and the lack of a bra beneath the hoodie. My shirt is ridden up, exposing my torso.

“Tell me to stop, and I will,” he whispers, my mind hazy with desire.

I have no such command for him. I lean into him. His hands move away from my back and onto my legs, hoisting me onto my dresser, nearly knocking everything to the floor. His hands return to my waist, using his thumbs to rub my sides. Our noses touch, our lips inches apart as the warmth pools between my legs. I feel a wave of pleasure come over me, unable to stop the noise that leaves me once his lips meet the skin of my neck, trailing his tongue up towards my ear. I let out a small gasp, feeling him suck on the gentle skin in the sensitive area that always makes my breath unsteady. “I saw the bruises on your neck. It made me angry that someone else touched you,” he whispers, pressing his lips down, eliciting yet another sound of pleasure from my throat.

“I-I was attacked,” I whisper, almost unable to get the explanation out once his hands grasped my upper thighs.

“I know,” he says, pulling away. “No one should have been that close to you,” he utters, a new side to him seeping through the cracks.

It’s a side to him that I’ve felt with someone else.

A side of him that is in Fallan.

I see his blue eyes once more, the faint memory of him close to me, touching my skin in the ways Xavier does now. It's like someone is banging on the wall in my mind, begging to come in. Is that Fallan? Is he who I feel? His hands explored me like no one else had before, holding me, our hearts beating as one that night by the fire. The wave of nausea comes over me once again, my body rejecting my closeness to Xavier, forcing me to lean away as I try to stop the churn in my stomach. He quickly pulls away, helping me down as he rubs my back. I close my eyes, shoving back against the presence trying to break through my mind and forcing it out, letting myself look for Fallan.

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