I need to process this. I won. Dyl will be executed. Everything is going too fast. The world is too loud, bright, and cruel and I can’t focus on anything because Dyl, my Dyl, is about to be murdered. It’s so horrific it’s almost abstract, like it can’t really happen. But it will. A Stalker will claim him, and if he runs, it’ll decapitate him.
I bend down and pick up the dropped glass. Dyl breaks out of the spotlight and forces his way through the jeering crowd toward the exit. He ducks through the doorway and moves out of sight.
I walk over to the table and place the cup down. As it touches the tabletop I realize how violently my hand is shaking. Why do I feel like this? This is what I wanted. All along, ever since I arrived at the LIC, this was the thing I wanted. To win. To survive.
But now that I have it I don’t want it. In fact, I hate it.
I want the boy who came to my window at night. I want him whole, and I want him with me.
Juliet appears out of the crowd. “Caden, what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Where did Dyl go?”
“His aunt said he went to the lookout. She looked so mad at me and I—”
“He’s going to kill himself. I need to go. Right now.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh God. I’ll come too.”
Together, we run through the party back into the house. At the kitchen, I pause. I walk up to the wooden block filled with knives with silver handles. I grab the smallest one, then spin and chase after Juliet.
We step outside the front door. Juliet grabs my arm. “Why’d you grab that knife?”
I shrug her off me. “We can’t talk now. Come on.”
Kaylee, are you there?
Thankfully, there’s no response.
I reach the truck and swing the door open. Juliet stands beside it with her arms crossed. Her heels are digging into the soft ground. “Caden, what the hell are you doing? How do you know what Dyl’s going to do? He wasn’t even sure he knew your name at the start of the party, and now you’re upset because I rejected him?”
“I can’t explain, Juliet. I don’t have time.”
“That’s not for you to decide. I told you this was a big night for me and then Dyl ruined it and now you’re making it worse. Caden, you’re scaring me.”
“I’m a liar, Juliet. So is Dyl. I should be scaring you. It’s the rational emotion to feel when you’re around me.”
Tears fill her eyes. “What do you mean? I told you I want to be with you and now you’re freaking out because obviously you’ve changed your mind and don’t want to be with me anymore.”
“That’s not it. Trust me.” I take a deep breath. Am I doing this?
I picture Dyl, naked, a tear running down his cheek. Orange fire hurtling toward him. Him closing his eyes like he’s accepting it, but his bottom lip is shaking. The image makes the decision for me. I don’t want to live a life where Dyl is dead and I’m a liar.
I can’t be a Love Interest anymore, so I’m going to do it: I’m going to sacrifice everything I’ve worked for to give him a chance to survive. I’m going to put my head next to his on the chopping block.
I don’t have a choice.
It’s who I am.
“I’m a Love Interest, Juliet. And so is Dyl. For most of our lives we’ve been owned by a company that monitors important people like you. They want you to fall in love with one of us so that we can spy on you for the rest of your life. We tell them your secrets, and then they sell them. In order to make sure we comply, they kill whoever doesn’t get chosen. They burn him like garbage.”
She nods, her stare intense. Her eyes are watery.
“Do you hear what I’m saying, Juliet?” I shout. “I’ve been spying on you! I’ve been lying to you this whole time! I’m the worst fucking person you’ve ever met.”
The confession overwhelms me, and suddenly my eyes fill with tears. I lean forward, my chest heaving, and press my forehead against the steering wheel. I’m stupid, so stupid. What does crying achieve? Nothing. I can’t fall apart, even if I want to. I need to save him. I take a deep breath. The air smells like plastic.
A hand touches the middle of my back. I flinch and look up, expecting to see a dark, eyeless face staring at me. It’s not a Stalker, though. It’s Juliet. Her lips are pressed together and her cheeks are shiny.
“Caden,” she says. She’s shaking, but her tone is even. “If what you said is true, that means, because I chose you, they’re going to kill Dyl. Is that right?”
I nod, my strength coming back to me. I roughly wipe my cheeks.
“They want to,” I say. “But I think he’s going to kill himself before they can. I … I know him, and he’s too proud to let them kill him. That’s why I need to go. I need to save him.”
She walks around to the other side of the truck and climbs in.
“What are you waiting for?” she asks. “Drive!”
I plant my foot on the accelerator and speed away from the party.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
We’re driving through the quiet streets toward the lookout. Juliet has turned in her seat so that her back faces me. Her shoulders are hunched, making her look small. Occasionally her shoulders move and she lets out a tiny sob, and each time I hear the sound, so soft and weak, a flare of pain hits me. I’d say anything to make her feel better, but I can’t think of anything to say that can fix this. So I just drive, and try not to think about the fact that I’m responsible for turning a sweet, wonderful girl into the suffering thing beside me.
She turns back to me. Her cheeks are glistening. “By telling me what you just did, did you …”
“Put you in danger? I did, and I’m so sorry. But they probably won’t kill you. They think you’re important enough for Love Interests. It’s not a thing everyone gets, only superimportant people. Or, at least, people who they predict are going to become important someday. I doubt they’re not going to give you that chance, so you’re the safest of anyone. I am sorry, though. For that, and for everything else.”
“So this is the real Caden, huh?”
I nod slowly. “The one and only.”
She looks out the window, turning her back to me again.
We reach the parking lot. The only other car in the large stretch of concrete is Dyl’s black convertible. It’s parked haphazardly, across two different parking spaces. An ice-cold shiver chills my blood.
Juliet sits up straight. “Do you want me to come with you?”
I shake my head. “You can’t. I don’t know how Dyl is going to act. Rejected Love Interests are famous for violence—they like to leave the world with a bang. Dyl’s not going to do that, though, at least I don’t think he is. Just … I’ll go.”
I know what I have to ask, but every part of me is saying it’s too much to ask of her. It’s awful, but I have no other option.