She sputtered in guilt and remorse. “I had just found out that we still had him in our custody. Literally right before your arrival. It was the first time I’d gone in. I swear.” But like the others, she hadn’t seen Darling as a person either. He’d been nothing to her but…
Dear gods, I slapped him while he wore a muzzle…
Her stomach heaved again as she realized just how much that would have hurt him. How could I have done something like that? She’d always prided herself on being fair and impartial. Compassionate.
Yes, she’d thought that he’d harmed Kere. Still…
I should have seen him. Should have seen the condition he was in instead of latching on to my own pain and being oblivious to the one right before my eyes. Someone who was hurting so much worse.
She’d always prided herself on being kind and sympathetic to others. The reality that she could be as cold and indifferent as those who’d wrong her, was a harsh slap in her face.
Pressing her hands to her eyes, she tried to blot out the image of Darling in those photos. The sight of him in that awful room when she’d finally become aware of his condition.
She couldn’t stop herself from seeing every minute detail. And the worst was the guilt that ate at her. She, who had promised to love and protect him from all enemies, had failed him horribly.
Maris flushed the toilet, then brought her a cool cloth and pressed it to the back of her neck to soothe her. “Until this moment, I didn’t believe that about you.”
“And now?”
He brushed the hair back from her face. “I see the truth in your eyes. You do love him, and I believe you when you tell me that you didn’t know what they’d done.” He narrowed his gaze at her. “Now I’m asking you to help me save him before it’s too late. Please, Zarya. I love Darling. I always have. You’ve no idea how many times he took up for me when no one else would. How many fights he fought for me. How many times he held me when I cried because I was afraid of other people’s prejudice and cruelty, and you know what he always said to me?”
She shook her head.
“Life sucks, Mari. It’s never fair to anyone. But I’ll always keep you safe from it. As long as I breathe, I won’t let them hurt you. Night or day, you call and I will drop everything to come running to you.”
That sounded like Kere.
“Now that he needs me to be there for him, how can I turn my back on the only true friend I’ve ever had?”
She felt the same way and yet…
“He hates me, and given that”—she gestured at his mobile—“he has every right to.”
Maris sighed. “You know, that’s the sickest thing about love. When it’s real, you’ll forgive anything.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve seen the way Darling’s family has treated him over the years. The thoughtless things they’ve said and done, and all the fights they’ve had. And I’ve seen him not only forgive them for it, but risk his life and health to keep them safe. Over and over. If he can forgive them, I know he can forgive you, too.”
She wasn’t so sure. “What about the Resistance? What’s happened to them while I’ve been imprisoned?”
“They’re… gone.”
She cringed at the news. Not that she hadn’t suspected it given the way the Sentella had attacked them to get Darling back, but hearing the confirmation was another matter. “Did Darling kill any of them?”
Maris dropped his gaze to the mobile, then showed her the burn scars on Darling’s nipples and groin where he’d been electrocuted… and that done while he wore a muzzle…
She flinched at the sight of such wanton brutality.
“What would you have done?” he asked her.
The same. If not worse. There was no doubt whatsoever. In fact, she wanted to kill them herself for what they’d done to him.
It was so wrong. The Resistance hadn’t been founded on cruelty. They were supposed to be a humanitarian organization that protected people from those who wrongfully hurt others.
How had the oppressed become the oppressor?
But she knew that answer, too. Like Maris said, they’d felt justified in their violence. Arturo had hurt them and their families. Why not hurt his?
They hadn’t bothered to find out that Darling was innocent. That he was one of them.
They hadn’t cared. In war, the innocent died and were punished along with the guilty. That was the one thing her father had drilled into her most.
In a fight, no one walked away unscathed.
Zarya drew a ragged breath and asked the most important question of all, even though she dreaded the answer. “What about my sister, Sorche? What has become of her?”
Had Darling killed her, too? If he had…
That she would never forgive. And she would kill Darling herself if he’d hurt Sorche.
Maris paused until she thought she’d be sick again. How bad was the news that he couldn’t even speak of it?
“Sorche Starska?”
She nodded as the knot in her stomach tightened with dread.
Please, don’t be dead. She could handle and maybe forgive anything, except that.
Maris sat back in thought. “So that’s who that was… Weird.”