“Boss?” Mike said. “You okay?”
The president’s son rose slowly, shutting the lid of his laptop. The rolled-up sleeves of his white shirt slid down his tan arms.
This is the Slip Kid? I thought. Him? Surprise was an understatement. Brain-numbing shock, the kind that reduced my train of thought to an inching crawl, was an understatement. I didn’t even have a second to collect myself before the next three words passed his lips. There was no way I could have, because Clancy Gray looked straight at me and said the very last thing on earth I expected.
“Ruby Elizabeth Daly.”
My reaction was way too strong for something as innocent as my full name. It wasn’t like he had spat out three vile cusswords or screamed “Kill them now!” or “Lock them up!” I shouldn’t have stumbled back, tripping over my own boots, but I was nearly to the door before I even realized it.
Clancy took a step forward, but Liam pushed him back, hard.
“Lee!” Mike sounded scandalized.
Clancy held up his hands. “Sorry—I’m sorry! My bad. I should have realized how that would sound. I was just surprised to see you.” He leaned around Liam with an apologetic smile, and I paused at the door, momentarily stunned by how white and straight his teeth were. “I’ve read your file so many times on so many different networks that I feel like we’ve already met. There are so many people out there looking for you right now.”
“And which one do you plan on turning her over to?” Chubs snapped.
I stood still, letting Zu keep one arm wrapped around my waist. Clancy’s face flushed at the accusation, his dark eyes flicking back over to me. “None of them. I just collect information, watch the networks to see what everyone is buzzing about. And that just happens to be you, Miss Daly.” He paused, rubbing a hand absently over his shoulder. “Let’s see if I remember all of this—born in Charlottesville, Virginia, but raised in Salem by her mother, Susan, a teacher, and her father, Jacob, a police officer. Attended Salem Elementary School until your tenth birthday, when your father called into his station to report an unknown child in his house—”
“Stop,” I muttered. Liam looked over his shoulder, trying to divide his attention between me and the boy reciting the sordid tale of my life.
“—but, bad luck, the PSFs beat the police to your house. Good luck, someone dropped the ball or they had other kiddies to pick up, because they didn’t wait around long enough to question your parents, and thus, didn’t pre-sort you. And then you came to Thurmond, and you managed to avoid their detecting you were Orange—”
“Stop!” I didn’t want to hear this—I didn’t want anyone to hear it.
“What’s the matter with you?” Liam shouted. “Can’t you see you’re upsetting her?”
Clancy, maybe anticipating another hard shove, moved to the other side of his desk. “I’m excited to meet her, that’s all. It’s not often that you find another Orange.”
A spark lit at the center of my chest, spreading quickly up to my brain. He is an Orange. The rumors were right. He might actually be able to help me.
“But…weren’t you reformed?” I asked slowly. “Isn’t that why they let you out?”
“You of all people should know they can’t reform shit at Thurmond, Ruby,” he said. “How is good ol’ Thurmond, by the way? I had the dubious honor of being its first inmate—got to see them build the Mess Hall brick by brick. Did they really hang my picture up everywhere?”
A better question: Did he really think I was going to pull up a chair and shoot the breeze about the good old days?
Clancy sighed. “Anyway…if you’re Ruby, then you must be Lee Stewart. I’ve read your file, too.”
“Anything good in there?” Mike asked with a nervous laugh.
“The PSFs have been following your every move,” Clancy said, leaning back in his chair. “Which means you need some place to lie low for a while, right?”
Liam hesitated a split second before nodding.
“You made a good choice coming here. You can stay as long as you need.” Clancy rested his hands on his chest. “Now that I’ve managed to upset everyone, Mike, do you want to take them to a cabin and get them set up in the rotations?”
Mike nodded. “For the record, you didn’t upset me, boss.”
Clancy laughed, rich and slow. “Okay, good. Thanks for all of your hard work today, by the way. Sounds like it was a good haul.”
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Mike said, moving toward the door. He waved us after him, but he no longer looked at us with the same warmth. “Cabin eighteen is open, right?”
“Yeah, Ty and his guys went tribal on us,” Clancy said. “I don’t know that anyone has gone in to clean it since they left, though, so I apologize if it’s a mess.”
And then he was staring at me again, one corner of his lips turning up, then the other. A warm, fizzling sensation filled my head, sending my pulse spiking. I turned away and broke eye contact, but the image still flooded my mind, spilling in until I thought I might choke. In my mind’s eye, I saw Clancy and me alone in the same room, him on one knee, offering a rose in my direction.
Forgive me? His voice was loud in my ears, echoing as I stumbled down the stairs.
How had he done that? Waltzed right through every single one of my natural defenses. And why was my brain suddenly alive and reaching out for whoever was closest, whoever was stupid enough to let me in?
I lifted my face from where I had buried it against Liam’s shoulder. When had I done that? When had we gotten outside—when had we walked all the way to the cabin?
Liam’s eyes tried to catch mine as I pulled away. My head ached, physically ached for him. It was too dangerous to stand so close to him.
“Not right now,” I whispered.
Liam’s brows drew together, and his lips parted with something he wanted to say. After a moment, he only nodded and turned back toward the cabin, bounding up the steps.
I needed to get as far away from them as I could, at least until the trilling inside of my head died down. There was no plan or map involved; I just set off down a nearby path. A few kids, all strangers, called after me in concern, but I ignored them, following the smell of mud and molding leaves until I found the lake we had passed.