Page 45 of Rebellious Reign

“I will,” she says into my hair as I squeeze her. “Thanks for trying to help me.”

“Remember what I said,” I tell her.

Francesca pulls back and stares at me. “I will.”

We pause again. So much left unsaid between us. I don’t like the situation she’s going back to. But there’s nothing I can do about it right now. There’s already so much on my plate, and taking on one more thing would drown me.

“Keep an eye on Lilliana while you are there,” I tell her.

She smiles. “I always do.”

“And if you can run, I’ll try to help in any way I can,” I say, and she laughs, the bark escaping from her throat sounding more like a sob.

“I don’t deserve you,” she says.

I pull her in for another quick hug. Then, I let her go. I watch her walk to her bus and climb on board. She doesn’t look back, and I’m almost happier that she doesn’t.

How am I going to explain this to Connor?

He’s going to be livid.

I drag my feet as I walk back to my car, wishing I could go anywhere but home. But I guess it’s time to face the music. Then, I realize she never told me anything about Ruby, and I start to wonder again if it was all a ploy.

15

WRYN

Iopen the front door tentatively, hoping that Connor isn’t on the other side, waiting for me. I didn’t see any of the vehicles gone, which means he’s still here. So, either he already knows what I did or he hasn’t checked to see that Francesca is missing yet.

I shut the door and creep toward the stairs, skipping the second one that creaks, and then advance down the hallway. I start to head toward his room, on autopilot, but at the last second, I slip into my room and shut the door quickly, leaning my forehead on it. I blow out a quick breath.

I’ve evaded him for now.

“Where is she?” Connor says from behind me.

Shit.

I spin, my hand on my chest. He’s lounging on my bed, legs crossed and hands behind his head. The epitome of comfortable as he pierces me with his eyes. He doesn’t look happy. But I already knew he wouldn’t be.

“Who?” I ask.

He shakes his head slowly from side to side. “Dumb is not a good look on you,” he says. “Where did you take Francesca?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Are you working with her?” he asks.

I think my face freezes. I try to give nothing away. It’s such a loaded question. Am I working with Francesca? Kind of. Am I voluntarily working with his enemy? Yes. Do I want to be? No. But will he see it that way? Also no. Where do I even start?

“No,” I say, trying to hedge the real question.

“Then, why help her?”

“She’s being coerced by Viktor. He’s using her like a pawn in his little game, and she needs our help.”

Viktor is using all of us. I’m a chess piece, being moved around by his hands.

“What did she want? Did she get what she came for? Is that why she ran?”

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