Page 38 of The Last Hope
“I’ve lived on and off Earth, dove.” I stop once steam licks their feet, closing in on the lip of the pool.
“Dove,” she snaps hotly. “It’s soft but the way you say it, it sounds more like you’re caressing a bed of nails.”
Lord. I struggle not to laugh, not be completely enamored with what she thinks of me. Honestly, I don’t even know whyI chose to use the term of endearment for her. On Earth, it can be mocking or sweet. I suppose I’ve landed somewhere between the two.
“It fits you,” is all I say to Franny.
Her brows furrow. Mykal is trying to pry a picture frame off its mount. Using all his strength, he braces his boot on the wall and heaves and grunts.
He’s definitely different.
I could mention how the picture is attached by talyglue, similar to cement, but Mykal being occupied frees me to deal with these two.
Court asks, “How did you end up here?”
“I was found on Earth in a small pod.”No Earth details. No details.I lick my lips and add, “Under the Republic of Gaia, all lost kids must be turned over to the fleet.” Briefly, I explain how the fleet helps place these kids with their families. I had no family on Earth. So I was allowed to either join the military or be put in a foster household. I chose the military.
“Why didn’t they send you back to Saltare-3?” Franny asks like that’s the logical choice.
The question drills into my eardrums and pierces my brain in a million excruciating ways. I can’t answer. I offer her a half-smile and motion to the pool. “Scared of the water?”
“I see what you’re doing—”
I push Franny.
Her voice dies, breath jettisoning out of her lips as she falls backward—but Court is swift and his seamless movements catch me off guard. He clutches her wrist and tugs Franny back upright. In another split second, he shifts to the left.
And he grabs on to me and pulls forward.Hard.
Gravity propels me down and I splash into the warmth of the shallow pool. And I stand, dripping wet. Water stops at my knees, and I look Court over, seeing more of him than I had before.
We all breathe heavily.
Mykal bears a murderous expression. Like he could disembowel me and feed me to his pet wolf.
“You wart,” Franny sneers.
I smile, loving that insult more than any other. I wipe water off my face, beads rolling down my breastplate. And I nod to Court and guess, “You were a thief.”
He glares.
I laugh.I guessed right.Won’t be the last time. My laughter fades as Mykal completely angles toward his boyfriend. His kill-or-be-killed face changes to heart-pounding concern.
I don’t see what’s wrong.
“Court!” Mykal shouts, and then he charges for him.
Franny yells Court’s name, but only after his eyes flutter and his body slackens. His weight plunges toward the pool—I run through water. Franny seizes his wrist, too weakened to support him upright, and Court falls into my outstretched arms.
She doesn’t let go of him.
“I have him,” I assure her.
Mykal almost jumps into the pool, not thinking twice, but then he stumbles backward. Tripping over an unseen force, eyes heavy-lidded, he fights faintness and falls back onto the mosaic tile.
“Mykal, don’t!” Franny yells.
He pants and curses.
