Page 44 of Citadel

“What do you like? Do you like to be self-sufficient?” Something about his eyes is so intimate. It feels like he can see all the way inside me.

“I… I don’t know. In some ways, it’s freeing. Being able to do things ourselves. Breanna always says that help comes with strings, and most of the time she’s right. But… I don’t know…” I shrug.

“Tell me,” he mutters. Very soft. Very gruff.

“It would be nice to be taken care of sometimes, but more than that, I’d like to… I kind of want…”

“What do you want?” He reaches over to cup my cheek with his big hand, and I don’t pull away.

“I want to be able to take care of someone else as much as they take care of me. And being too self-sufficient means I can’t even do that. I don’t even know if that makes sense.”

He’s silent for a minute. Breathes heavily. “It does.”

“I’ve… I’ve never really felt like I had a lot to offer. Even with Breanna. It feels like I’m always doing more receiving than giving.” I shrug off the discomfort of the vulnerability. Then remember who I’m talking to. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I appreciate your help with the roof, but otherwise we’re doing fine. And Breanna isn’t going to want you inside the house.”

He sighs and takes a step back. “Yeah. I get that.” He lingers, his face twisting very briefly. “Okay. I’ll see you later then.”

The words are almost, almost a question.

“Yeah. Probably so. Until you end up leaving again.”

* * *

I’m torn and anxious all evening, and Breanna obviously notices. As we’re eating dinner together in the dining room, at the end of a table by ourselves, she says, “I’ve got another run to make tomorrow morning. Why don’t you come with me this time?”

“Why?”

“Why? Because staying here when he’s here is clearly getting to you. Maybe you need to breathe some free air.”

I check her face. See she’s serious. She’s worried about me and is trying to help. “I’ll slow you down.”

“No, you won’t. It’s an easy one tomorrow. I’m just delivering a message, and it’s only a few miles away. You can come along. Might be good for you to get out for a while. Get away.” It’s very clear who she’s saying I need to get away from. Cole is eating at a table nearby, and her eyes shift over to him quickly.

“I’m supposed to do a shift fishing at the river tomorrow morning.”

“So ask if you can swap it out. I bet they’d do it. You never ask.”

I hesitate for only a moment. Make the mistake of glancing back toward Cole.

Our eyes lock. A wave of pleasure, familiarity, excitement washes over me.

It’s ridiculous. I shouldn’t be responding to a man like that—not a man I know can’t be depended on.

“Okay,” I tell my sister. “If I can get out of my shift, I’ll go with you.”

* * *

The next morning, Breanna and I get up before dawn. I wash quickly with water we pumped from the well yesterday and then pull on worn jeans, a white tank, and a threadbare hoodie. I tie my hair into two very short braids and am ready when Breanna comes inside to hurry me along.

I’m half-excited about doing something new and half-upset about leaving Monument when Cole is behind these walls.

It’s silly, but it’s true. And it’s another sign that it’s probably best for me to get away.

I grab the prepped bag I usually carry with me, and Breanna picks up her own go-bag. Then we walk through the quiet streets of town until we reach the front gate.

The first thing I see is Cole. He’s standing there, talking to a guard.

What the hell is he doing here right now?

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