Stray by Rachael Craw Page B

over and spilling through me.
    “Did he hurt you?” Jamie asks, not looking at me, his voice low and lead heavy.
    “No.” I wallow in the view of his profile, the flecks of gold in his hair, the play of light and shadow defining his cheekbone and jaw. He needs a shave.
    “Benjamin’s my friend, but … I wanted to kill him.”
    “Least you got to punch Davis.”
    He draws his knees up and examines the red skin on his knuckles. “There’s that.”
    We sit in silence for a while and it hurts to breathe.
    “So, you ran.”
    I sink inside. How can I tell him I want to help Aiden when he’s cost the Gallaghers so much? Jamie’s not cruel. I know he regrets I’ll lose my brother – that Miriam will lose a son – when Affinity find out. We’ve talked about it before, argued about it, but deep down he believes in the protocol. A guarantee that Aiden will never put another family through what his went through. “I guess I freaked out. I knew it would all be over: us, Aiden, my future.”
    He nods, appreciating the weight of my admission. He knows what it’s like to have his life turned upside down by the Affinity Project. But he’s also nodding because he believes I’ll accept the way it has to be. I let him believe it because I don’t want to argue with him and ruin our goodbye.
    He doesn’t attempt to reassure me or say everything will be okay; he knows it won’t be.
    “Sorry I got you grounded.”
    I give a soft snort. “Wasn’t your fault.” Then I realise if he heard the part about me being grounded he can’t have missed the rest of my argument with Miriam.
I love him … I do love him!
The whole street probably heard.
    Moments before Tesla and his team arrived I’d been freaking out upstairs, hotly embarrassed at my blurting. I don’t feel like that any more. I’m glad I said it. Glad he heard it. Because I won’t be able to say it again. Not now. I shudder and sigh.
    “I shouldn’t have stayed last night. If I wasn’t here when they arrived, they never would have known. We’d have more time.”
    “Felicity would have figured it out. She saw you in my memories.” I shake my head a little. “You’d think with the way they go around zapping uteruses, ‘affiliating’ wouldn’t be such a big deal.”
    He doesn’t laugh. It isn’t funny. “They only sanction relationships between people whose signals won’t amplify.”
    I figured that was the deal. Miriam went on enough about the danger of our signals being more susceptible to spontaneous Sparking. I remember the Warden referring to the phenomenon with disapproval in her voice. Affinity likes everything tidy. Mature Shields “deployed” into “active-Spark zones” for Supply Protection only, thank you very much. It’s all about the Primary Objectives. Acquisition of Assets. Elimination of Strays. Which leads me back to Aiden.
    Aiden and Jamie and the end.
    I think of Miriam’s dark prophecy from only hours before, that love is sacrifice and sometimes that means ripping your own heart out to do what’s right. I know that’s what’s coming, the rip and the bleeding out. “Told you we should’ve done it last night.”
    He drops his head, his shoulders vibrating, a quiet chuffing laugh. “You did.”
    My eyes sting with unshed tears and I stare at the bandaid at the base of his hairline, the swelling beneath. I hate it. Hate what it represents. I should be grateful that he has another choice, that he can be free. It’s not too late, whatever Benjamin thinks. We haven’t
been together
. Jamie can deactivate … but I can’t think about Helena. I
won’t
think about her. I shove her from my mind by touching him, brushing my knuckle down the side of his neck. Sweet electric tingling hums through my arm. His collar hangs loose, revealing a vibrant splash of colour, the angel in ink. I stroke him there too.
    He sighs. “I don’t know how to do this.”
    Neither do I. “Let’s not make speeches.”
    “I’ve never liked that