Kristen Simmons - Article 5

Tentatively, I reached for his hand, and when he gave it willingly, cradled my cheek within it. I could see him swallowing, see his big brown wolf eyes go dark, as they always did when harboring some deep emotion. He leaned closer.

“Think about me,” he whispered. And then his lips touched mine.

His kiss was so soft it felt the way my memories did when I imagined his touch a year ago. When he was only a ghost reminding me I was alone. I needed more. I needed him to be here now, not just an echo of the past.

I pulled him closer. His kiss deepened at the invitation, making my whole body feel alive and electric. Then his hands drifted to my shoulders, and down, around my back, leaving streaks of heat in their wake.

“It was you,” I said softly. “It’s always you I think about.”

The intensity in his gaze took my breath away.

I could feel him. Every part of him. His soul was sewn to mine. His heated blood flowed through my veins. I’d thought that I had been close to my mother, and I was, but not like this. Chase and I barely touched—our hands, mouths, knees—but there was no part of me that was not his.

I couldn’t speak, but if I could, I would have told him I’d missed him. That I accepted who he had become, with his guilt and his fears. That I would stay beside him as he healed.

“Thank you,” he whispered. Could he hear my thoughts? It did not seem unreasonable. Whatever his motivation for thanking me, I felt grateful too.

He held me as our heartbeats slowed and joined into one single pulse. And my mind went completely and blissfully silent.

I WASwoken by a racket in the hallway. I didn’t know how long I’d slept, but I was now lying on the sleeping bag alone.

Had I dreamed what had happened earlier? Everything had felt so surreal these past few days; Chase’s confession was really right in line. Still, my lips remembered the pressure of his, and my heart hurt with his absence.

I sat up, pulling on my boots, and ventured into the hallway. It was dimly lit and empty. The sound seemed to be centering from Wallace’s room, and I snuck toward it. From the outside I heard the man’s voice, speaking in low tones.

“You sure you won’t change your mind?” he asked.

“Not now,” said Chase. “Maybe someday.”

I stuck my head around the door. Chase was leaning back against the kitchenette counter with Billy, while Wallace and Sean stood opposite.

His eyes found mine, and for a moment everything around him wavered. I knew then that I hadn’t dreamed up what had happened between us. That it had been real and that he’d felt it too. I blushed.

Chase came over to me, ending the conversation with the others. He held out his hand, and I took it. I couldn’t hide the shy smile that blossomed at the gesture.

“Wait a minute.” Wallace grinned, and I knew what was coming before he continued. “You’d be welcome in our family, Miller.”

I saw the MM’s credo then, as it had been painted on the outside of the van that had taken my mother. Then on the wall of the house on Rudy Lane, and on the semitruck in Hinton. One Whole Country. One Whole Family. Wallace believed you could choose your family. If the country’s stepchildren all joined together, we might really be whole after all.

A crack of thunder outside. And then the rain began to beat against the covered windows. Sean lit another candle and placed it on the counter behind us.

“I told you no, Wallace,” said Chase. I could feel him tense.

He was right. I couldn’t join the resistance. Not now. But I didn’t like Chase answering for me. My brows drew together.

What had they been talking about? Chase hadn’t said a word to these people earlier, but they’d held a secret meeting when I’d been asleep? My shoulders began to rise. I tried to meet his eyes, but he was staring at Wallace.

“Why did they throw you into custody?” Wallace asked me. There was curiosity in his voice, but I knew he was asking to make a point. Exploiting the injustice of my capture would give me reason to fight.

“Not important,” Chase answered for me.

“Article 5,” said Sean. “That’s why half the girls in reform school are there.”

“Let’s go,” Chase said suddenly. Was he trying to protect me? It didn’t feel right.

“Sick, all that business. That’s why I got out. Stuff like that.” Wallace scratched his arm, and I saw the end of a black braid of wire sneaking out at the wrist beneath his long sleeve.

“You left the MM because they send girls to reform school?” I asked slowly. That seemed an odd thing to do.

The energy of the room had changed completely. It was strained now, grievous.

Chase was pulling me into the hallway.

“Wait,” I told him. The rain was coming in pattering waves.

“He left because of the executions,” Billy said helpfully. I remembered the carrier in Harrisonburg. I knew what the MM was capable of. The blood drained from my face.

“Who?” I asked.

“Shut your mouth,” Chase said harshly to Billy.

“The Article violators.” Billy looked mutinous.

My heart stopped.

“That’s enough, Billy!” snapped Wallace. He passed Chase a hard, judging stare.

“You don’t know?” Sean’s eyes darted to Chase, too. “I thought you told her.”

“Don’t say another word,” Chase threatened. Billy stuck his chin out defiantly. Sean jumped between the two of them.

“No, do. Please do,” I said.

“Ember, come on,” Chase had a hard grip on my arm and was pulling me away.

“Stop it!” I shouted. “Someone tell me what’s going on!”

Rain. Waves of it. Pelting the motel.

“The Article violators, the AWOL soldiers. They’re executed, like Billy said,” Sean spoke quietly. Chase took a step back. “She has a right to know,” he finished.

“They’re going to execute me?” I asked weakly.

“Not you,” said Billy. “The people charged. Your mom.”

THEroom began to spin. I braced myself against the counter, vaguely aware that Billy and Wallace had left.

“Ember,” Chase said slowly. He did not approach me.

“Why would they do that?” I asked weakly. But even as I asked I knew it was possible. I’d been in the checkpoint on Rudy Lane when the MM had found the carrier.

“We don’t exactly fit the bill for a new, moral country,” said Sean grimly.

I rounded on him.

“You knew. At the reformatory. You knew when I was trying to escape and you didn’t tell me.”

He shifted uncomfortably. “I’d heard rumors. You have to understand, I thought you were going to tell Brock about Becca and me. I thought if you didn’t have a reason to leave, you wouldn’t have a reason to keep the secret.”

“Get away from me.”

He backed up.

“Ember.” Chase cradled my name as though it was an injured bird.

He’d known this all along. He’d hidden the truth. Why hadn’t he told me?

“We have to leave.” I shoved past him, sprinting to our room. People were out in the hallway watching me, but I barely noticed them. The fear was so thick in my body that I could hardly swallow. My knees felt very weak, but I knew I had to be strong. Yes, now I had to be especially strong.

I threw the backpack over my shoulders too quickly and had to grasp the wall to steady myself.

“Damn it, Ember. Hang on.” Chase tried to pry the pack off. His face was pallid in the candlelight.

“Don’t. We’re going. We don’t have time!” I yelled at him. “What’s wrong with you? We have to go!”

“Ember, take off the pack.”

“Chase! She’s in danger! They’re probably looking for her right now! We have to find her!” Hot tears, full of confusion and terror, ripped from my eyes. I wasn’t angry with him. I was too frightened to be angry.