Page 70 of Dissent

This time, he lifted his head, meeting her gaze and standing up straighter as he steeled himself. “Chelsea had the chip.”

Nothing happened. Giza’s stare went blank, and Sasha did nothing but close her eyes. Time stretched, sending my insides twisting and turning into knots that threatened to make me vomit. I breathed in deeply through my nose, but the growing tightness in my chest made it increasingly difficult.

Finally, Sasha opened her eyes and looked at me. “Do not think that your presence here has gone unnoticed, Miss de la Puente. I am no fool. You disobeyed my orders, as did your peers, for letting you go along. I warned you, child, not to misinterpret my graciousness as endless forgiveness. Your presence there tonight could have very well caused the lives of your peers. It was reckless and disobedient, and I cannot have that behavior in my ranks.”

The anxiety that I’d been trying to smother resurged within me. The ringing returned as my heart threatened to hammer itself through my chest. I had nothing to say to her.

She was right.

I knew it the second Chelsea fell limp behind me in the woods. I knew it as I sat on Wes’s lap, trying to push against the liquid life that flowed out of him.

It was my fault.

It was my fault when Chase died, and now it was my fault again. I was going to be responsible for both of their deaths, and that knowledge raked itself along the flesh of my soul.

***

The cool night air hit my face, and I sucked it in greedily. I was shaking—every part of me trembling from leftover adrenaline, fear, and shame. The cool breeze made me shiver, my blood-soaked clothing wet and sticky against my skin. I stared at myself, at my hands, reddish brown as Wes’s blood dried, and I finally allowed the tears to fall. I started rubbing my hands together, trying desperately to get the blood off. But all I did was smear it around. I started vigorously wiping them on my thighs, desperate to wash the evidence of my guilt away.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Matias stood beside me, putting a gentle hand on my lower back while his other hand steadied my own. “It’s okay. Come on, I’ll help you get cleaned up.”

He guided me through camp, passing by several tents until we came up to one I hadn’t seen before. Pulling back the flap and ushered me in. It was dark, but within a minute, light from a lantern hanging in the center of the tent cut through and brightened the space. Much like the training center, there were racks of uniforms, shirts, pants, and other miscellaneous bits of clothing. Boots were lined up against the back wall, stacks of towels and washcloths were piled high on tables, and several sheets hung from the ceiling of the canvas tent, creating little changing rooms.

Matias walked to the table with towels, grabbed several of them, and then pulled fresh clothing from the racks. He was by me in moments, placing everything on the ground, before wiping his face and hands with a washcloth. I grabbed one from the stack and followed suit, trying to soak up as much of the blood as I could.

As we worked, I could feel the silent tension building. Much had happened in such little time, and there was so much frustration, leftover anxiety, and guilt, not to mention the words he had spoken to me before this whole mess. The ones that left me angry and hurt. Yeah,thatwasstill a sore spot for me.

The silence stretched, and the longer it went on, the more I felt as though my skin was crawling with ants. I couldn’t take it anymore, so I turned to speak, but he must have felt the same way because he spoke before I had a chance.

“You can use those rooms there to change into clean clothes,” he said as he pointed to the sheets hanging from the ceiling. “I’ll walk you back afterward.”

“Okay. Thanks.”Idiot!That was all I could say? Why was it I froze like this all the freaking time? I wanted to say so much more.

Do you really think I’m selfish?

I’m sorry I got Chelsea captured.

Wes is going to die, and it’s all my fault.

Edith says you like me, is it true?

Or what about,I really like you too.

But no!

I couldn’t muster any of that. Accepting my inability to make any fruitful conversation around this boy, I grabbed a clean shirt, pants, and one more towel, and then marched into a room. I stripped off the soiled clothing, wiped down my body the best I could, and then put on the clean garments. Having wrapped the dirty things in the towel, I stepped back out into the space.

Matias was waiting, wearing clean clothes as well. He looked up to see me, a faint smile crossing his lips, and then we just stared at one another. My insides wrung themselves out with nervous energy. His eyes flickered, and then he took steps toward me.

One step, then another.

I was glued, immobilized by the anticipation slowly rising within me, spreading like flame catching oil. And before I knew it, he was standing right in front of me, only inches apart. I could sense the energy of his body just at the edge, almost within grasp. The urge to reach out was strong, a fierce desire to touch his firm chest and cup his cheek. But I stayed immobile, staring into the depths of those brown eyes.

I was a willing captive—the yearning ratcheting up within me, threatening. And just as I thought I couldn’t take it any longer, he raised his hand toward my face and drew down his own closer to mine, tipping his head to the side.

This was it. At long last, I was going to feel the delicious sensation of his lips against mine. My mind tumbled into a tangle of thoughts as I felt my breath catch in my throat. I closed my eyes, ready to receive him. But then…he didn’t. My cheek was met with the roughness of a towel, rubbing back and forth. Opening my eyes, I realized he was cleaning something off my face.

“Wha…what are you doing?”

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