31

Stretched out in front of her, Violet’s hands trembled, one on the doorknob, one gripping the hard metal shield. Her palm pressed the embossed words so hard, they would imprint onto her skin. She opened the door.

Austin nearly fell into the room. He scrambled to his feet. His wide eyes clung to hers. “Violet, I …”

Maybe she’d jumped to conclusions, maybe … What, maybe a civilian’s nightstand drawer held a Constabulary badge and gun by mistake? She shoved the badge in his face. He actually paled.

“Crap,” he said.

Violet dropped the badge at his feet. It hit the carpet with a gold glint. She hugged herself against the last truth she could ever have guessed. She’d come here to tell him everything. To trust him. To end the freedom of people she couldn’t trust.

At least they all admitted who they were.

“Are you undercover?” The squeak sounded like someone half her age.

Austin bent to pick up the badge, and for a wild instant, Violet pictured herself shoving him off-balance and running out the door, down the lobby stairs, into the summer heat. He straightened. His eyes were blue pools of regret.

“Let’s go sit down.”

“Answer me first. Were you supposed to pretend you were in love with me, so you could convince me to spy on them?”

A scowl pulled his mouth. “Violet, who insisted on you spying?”

“Maybe you used some kind of, I don’t know, psychological thing. To make me think it was my idea.”

“Think about that. I didn’t know about Khloe until you told me.”

Khloe. Her arms tightened around her middle.

“Yeah, I know it was Khloe. The Christian friend you didn’t want to turn in. She left her ID at the meeting we busted.”

We. Ice trickled through her body. “Why, then?”

“You’ll have to specify the question.”

“Stop it, stop trying to sound all scholarly like—like—you.”

The blink could have been a wince. “I’m not undercover. I didn’t fake my interest in you. I met you at Elysium by chance. I thought you were attractive, and your introspection was refreshing. And you know I also thought you were older.”

It sounded true, all of it. If only it was.

“Please come sit on the couch, and we’ll talk.”

Violet nodded, trailed him back to the living room, but sat across the room in his beanbag chair. He crumpled onto the couch as if a boulder had pushed him down.

“If you’re not undercover, why didn’t you tell me you’re a con-cop?”

Austin rubbed his eyes. “Do you know that up to half the population knows of someone who’s practicing Christianity and refuses to turn them in?”

“Okay, now’s not the time to give me an education.”

“The media wants you to think everyone agrees with the government all the time. Well, they don’t. And the Constabulary … we’re one of the least-agreed-on issues in the country.”

“So …?”

“So, no, I don’t instantly tell acquaintances what I do for a living. Especially interesting female acquaintances. About every third person I meet avoids me after they find out.”

Weariness drew lines between his eyes. Violet pushed to her feet and stepped toward him, sat on the couch with a cushion between them.

“The buddy you told me about, the con-cop. You were talking about yourself. You’re trying to find the resistance.”

One hand fisted his hair. “What I did, hiding this from you. It wasn’t to manipulate you into anything. It wasn’t part of my job.”

Violet twisted the edge of her T-shirt. She could forgive him. Unless …

“Violet?”

“That number I texted the addresses to. Was I texting you the whole time, on some government phone?”

He sighed and this time scrubbed both hands through his hair. For the first time, that flustered gesture didn’t make her want to smooth away the mussed strands.

“You lied to me,” she whispered.

He jumped to his feet. “Yes, okay? Yes. I lied to you.”

“More than once.”

“I was going to tell you, until that night in the park. You were so conflicted about Khloe, I didn’t want to …” He scrubbed at his hair again. “To scare you off.”

“So you used me instead.”

“Absolutely not.”

She sprang to her feet and poked her finger at his chest. It was risky, but she couldn’t stop herself. “If I meant anything to you, you wouldn’t have lied to me, and you wouldn’t have let me go off trying to catch Christians when you thought I could be in danger.”

“You weren’t supposed to go off trying to catch Christians. You were supposed to text me one address. One. And then get out of there.”

“I wanted to help—”

“Instead I get another text with another address, and I get no response from you when I ask what’s going on. You vanished. I thought they were brainwashing you, I thought …” Austin gripped her wrist, pulled her closer. His cologne, his nearness, filled her head.

“You thought what?” she said.

His arms caged her. His mouth crushed hers. She couldn’t breathe. He didn’t let go.

Finally.

She melted closer. One hand held her, and the other was finding places he’d never touched before. He grabbed her hair, close to the roots, and his mouth followed her movement, kissed and kissed her, warm but hard. Wanting her, yes, but … A tear squeezed from her clenched eyelid. Her mouth felt bruised, and still he didn’t let go. She whimpered around the kiss, pushed at his chest. Austin pulled back, and his breathing ruffled her damp hair. Violet shoved, but, crushed against him, she had no leverage. No strength. And then he was kissing her again.

This was being an adult. This was what she’d been asking him to do for months. I don’t think I want it. Wait, Austin, I don’t think I …

She let out a sob and beat her hand against his arm. He staggered back one step, but he would grab her again, force their mouths together again.

“Stop stop stop!” Violet planted both hands against his chest and shoved.

His eyes widened. He held up his hands. His foot tipped back, off-balance. Before Violet could stop pushing him, his head hit the wall and—

Blinking stars. A throb in her lip, in her teeth.

He’d hit her. With his fist.

He backed into the corner, hands raised in front of him, shaking. “Violet. Oh, no. No.”

She ran to the laundry room and grabbed her shoes. She headed for the front door.

“Violet, please, I’m sorry, please.”

She didn’t stop for his voice. She would never heed his voice again.