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she ignored him, making him briefly question if he’d been separated from the female population for so long that he could be losing his charm. But that seemed unlikely.
“All right.” Confusion reigned—cyborg, prison mate, goddess. “Of course. Anything you like.”
She was perhaps most angry with herself now, for being distracted, even for a minute, by nothing more than a handsome face and a veneer of danger, so soon after she’d learned that her grandma’s case had been closed. Her curiosity about the street fighter made her feel like a traitor to everything important.
she hated to admit it, he was actually rather attractive. If a girl happened to like that square-jaw, bright-blue-eyes, devilish-dimples kind of thing.
She extracted the bloodied ID chip and tossed it into a bundle of cords on the floor, before cutting a strip of cloth from his sleeve and letting him wrap it around the wound. “Is it just me, or is this a big moment in our relationship?”
Perhaps not dangerous, but young and inarguably good-looking. His prison photo showed him flippantly winking at the camera. Kai hated him immediately.
But Kai wasn’t his father. He wasn’t that selfless. Knowing it was wrong, he couldn’t help but wish that wherever Cinder had gone, they would never find her.
“Don’t you have some tool in that fancy hand of yours that can get us across?” Cinder glared, light-headed from her body’s instinctively short breaths. “Oh, wow, how could I have forgotten about my grappling hook?”
“We’re having another moment, aren’t we?” “If by a moment, you mean me not wanting to strangle you for the first time since we met, then I guess we are.”
She crossed her arms, protecting her anger against the gentleness of Wolf’s voice.
Torin let out an irritated sigh. “The girl has proven herself to be more clever than I would have given her credit for.” Kai dragged his hand through his hair, extinguishing an unexpected spark of pride.
Lips tingling, she arched her neck toward him. But then he was pulling away from her, the space between them filling with harsh, cold wind.
His hands were achingly gentle as he lowered her to the platform, and lingered a second too long after her feet were firmly planted, or not nearly long enough.
Once, people had looked at her with revulsion. Now, people were terrified of her. She wasn’t sure which was worse.
She wanted to scream to the world that it wasn’t her fault she was this way. She’d had nothing to do with it.
But as she lay there, willing the numbness to take over, her stomach rumbled again. Louder.
“I think I realized that I would rather die because I betrayed them, than live because I betrayed you.”
