Page 68 of Run of Ruin

She looked like that had wounded her. I gripped her hands. “Bex, I won’t lie and say I didn’t let Zaffir spin the story he wanted. At first at least. We agreed that if people saw a connection between us, they’d want me to stick around. Then I could protect you in the trials.”

She sucked in a breath.

“So, the hand holding, the limo…” her eyes widened as if the thought returned in brutal force. “The Welcome Ball?”

“No, God, no, Bex. I was never pretending with you. I just let the camera see it. From the start, I was drawn to you. You were fascinating, beautiful, and you looked at me like I was a person, not a criminal. I hadn’t felt that in a long time. But I kept telling myself that’s all it was.”

I ran a hand through her hair. “But then I saw you dancing with Thorne. His hands on your waist, your eyeswatching him, his eyes watching you, and I felt jealousy like I’d never felt before. And desire like I’d never imagined.” I took a deep breath. “And then I spent three days in the woods searching for you, not sure if you were alive, dead, or out there in pain somewhere. And that’s when I knew. That this,” I brushed my fingers over her cheek, “this is the only thing that’s felt real to me since I won that fucking election.”

She smiled at me, soft and quiet, like she could see straight through the walls I’d spent years building. Past the bravado and the bitterness I wore like armor. She looked at me like she could still see the man I used to be. The one who’d been beaten and broken. Betrayed by the only people he’d ever trusted. Sold out by the only place he’d called home.

The door opened, and Zaffir slipped back in, his usual focused swagger noticeably dulled. His expression was off, too distant, too subdued for the demanding camera op we knew.

“Hey,” I called, brow furrowing. “What’s wrong?”

His glazed-over eyes blinked like he was just remembering the rest of us existed. “Oh, uh… nothing.”

“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” Bex said, already moving toward him. She placed a gentle hand on his arm, and he melted into her touch. Their eyes met, an entire conversation happening in silence between them.

“I’m okay, Brexlyn. Promise.” His voice was soft, tired. “I just… I’ve got an extra project to prep for. And your next trial kicks off tomorrow morning.”

He ran a hand through his wild red hair, disheveling it further.

“What kind of project?” I asked.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he replied, and there was a weight in his voice that tightened my stomach.

“What is it?” Bex pressed before I could.

Zaffir hesitated, his gaze flicking between us. The struggleon his face was clear. His Praxis loyalty warring with whatever it was he felt for her, for us.

“I think…” he sighed. “I think we did our job too well.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

He looked at me, something like regret in his eyes. “The four of you are being sent to a live interview tomorrow night after the trial. The public demand, and the support for your little team, has gotten too loud to ignore. And the producers want to cash in while the fire’s hot.”

Bex frowned. “And that’s a bad thing, why?”

Zaffir’s jaw clenched. The truth sat on his tongue but he refused to share.

“Trust goes both ways,” I told him quietly, meeting his gaze.

He nodded once, then lowered his voice. “I was… warned. About turning you into a martyr.”

“A martyr?” Bex echoed, alarm in her voice.

He nodded. “You’ve reached a level of public favor we haven’t seen in a Challenger in years. If something… happened to you in the trials now, if you died on that screen…”

“The people would riot,” I finished for him.

“Exactly.” He glanced toward the door as if afraid someone might overhear. “Archon Veritas wants her people invested, but not obsessed to the point of acting on it.”

Bex’s brow furrowed. “Wait… you think your edits made people like me too much?”

Zaffir gave a small, sad smile. “I think the people saw the real you, Brexlyn. And they fell in love with you, just like we knew they would. I think the Archon’s realizing that attention breeds power. Power breeds influence. And if you wanted to, you could turn those hearts and minds against Praxis.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Bex scoffed, shaking her head. “I could never do that.”

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