He doesn’t look convinced as he drops my braid, trailing his hand across the sleeve of my jacket. “Doesn’t this get suffocating in the desert heat?”
Yes. “No.”
We both stare out the window as a group of teenagers walk by, laughing and joking while they jump into the car next to us. They crank up the volume on some pulsing dance song and zip off for a normal day of fun with friends.
I hate myself for being jealous. “Why does it matter if I wear a uniform or braid my hair?”
“I’m just trying to figure you out.”
“It’s easy. I’m a guardian. Everything I do is to fulfill the oath I’ve sworn. It’s the life I chose. The life I’d choose again.”
My voice sounds louder than I want. Defensive.
Vane stays calm and quiet as he replies. “Is it? Or is that what you’re telling yourself, because otherwise you’d have to admit your life sucks? That you swore some oath a long time ago because you believed you deserved to be punished for something, and you’ve been torturing yourself ever since?”
Even if he’s right, even if I am punishing myself, I deserve the punishment. And he’ll know why soon. I should just tell him now. Get it over with.
“You deserve to be happy,” he whispers. “No matter what you think or what you did. You deserve to be happy.”
“I—”
“You do. And what better time than now—staring down a fight we might not even make it through—is there to start? Let your hair down. Throw that horrible jacket in the Dumpster. Give yourself a break.”
“I can’t, Vane.”
“Yes, you can. You just have to let go.”
My stomach growls again and he swears.
“Come on, this is insane.”
He looks so earnest. So honest. And he cares.
No one cares about me—not even me.
He reaches into his bag and pulls out another fry, holding it out. “You can start small.”
The whole world fades away, leaving just me, Vane, and that French fry. It looks almost as tempting as the boy holding it.
“Your body is hungry, Audra. Give it one thing it wants.”
All my years of training scream at me to resist. To shove his hand away and refuse to prolong my days of weakness.
But deep, deep down, a tiny voice whispers something else. The same words Vane says next.
“What’s it going to hurt?”
Only me, when I have to endure extra months of weakness.
But I probably won’t live through the week. Why not give myself one tiny thing I want?
Before I can change my mind, I grab the fry and shove it in my mouth. My first bite of real food in ten years.
And it’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.
CHAPTER 43
VANE
I can’t believe she did it.
I watch her close her eyes and chew, half-expecting her to spit it out any second. But she swallows. Then her hungry eyes meet mine. I’ve never seen her so shy. So timid. So . . . happy.
“Can I have another?” she whispers.
I reach into the bag and grab another fry. It’s one of the soggy ones—the kind that feels more like a worm—and it isn’t even hot.
“You know what? If we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do it right,” I say, dropping the bag in my lap and throwing the car in reverse. I can’t believe I didn’t think of this in the first place.
“Where are we going?” she asks, reaching for the bag. I pull it away from her.
“No way. I will not let your first meal be cold McDonald’s fries. I’m taking you to In-N-Out.”
I push the gas pedal to the floor, hoping she won’t change her mind in the fifteen minutes it takes us to get there. But she doesn’t. She doesn’t even hesitate to take my hand as she climbs out of the car in the crowded parking lot.
The heat hits us like a wall, and she pushes up the sleeves of her jacket.
I stop walking. “Just take it off.”
Resistance flares in her eyes, but I squeeze her hand. “Come on. What’s it going to hurt?”
She sighs. Then pulls her hand away and starts undoing buttons.
My heart beats double-time. I know she has a skimpy black tank on under there—but that isn’t what makes the action so sexy. Well, okay, it helps. But it’s way hotter watching her do something she wants to do for a change.
I’m tempted to make her undo the braid, too, but I don’t want to press my luck. So I toss her jacket in the car and take her hand again, leading her into In-N-Out.
“What’s so great about this place?” Audra asks, looking a little intimidated by the crowd.
Her dark clothes stand out in the bright white, red, and yellow restaurant, and I catch several people staring at her. Though half of them are guys checking her out.
I squeeze her hand tighter. “You’ll see.”
I order two combo number twos. “Animal style,” I specify.
Audra’s brows shoot up.
“Just trust me,” I tell her, taking our cups and filling them with soda.
Miraculously, we score a small table in the corner, and I have Audra take a seat while I grab ketchup and napkins. Five minutes later they call our number and I set two perfect cheeseburgers with fries on the table and sink into the seat across from her.