The fact that Mathias stayed here with me while the rest of Defiance was hunkered down somewhere told me that. The fact that Charlie was in the next room made things even stranger, but my blood boiled with anger just thinking about him, so I forced myself not to. I wouldn’t worry this time away. I’d enjoy it, the way I had the past several hours.
Here, I wasn’t the vice president’s daughter. I was just Jessa and nothing else mattered until the earth stopped rumbling. Still, it didn’t stop me from blurting out, “I never do this.”
Mathias slid a glance my way and bit back a smile. Typed, Pre—or post-Chaos?
“Both,” I insisted. I wanted to ask if he did this all the time, slept with random women after only knowing them for a little while, but I didn’t really want to know the answer. I was pretty sure he didn’t go around finding women to rescue, though, so at least I held a top-of-the-line position there.
Still, this could be a one-night stand. I had to prepare myself for whatever came next, including these men trying to barter me for money. At least I knew why I was naked with Mathias. I slept with him because I almost died and I’d wanted to live. Because a man I thought I loved betrayed me, while a total stranger killed for me. Literally killed for me.
You know why you did it, right? Mathias typed.
“Because you’re hot?” I teased and I swore I saw the hint of blush on the tattooed biker’s face.
He shook his head and mouthed something to himself—I could’ve sworn it was, I walked right into that one, before he typed, You found out you get to keep living.
He let me digest that for a long moment and then explained, For a lot of people who weren’t in your position, they think it’s about not dying. But when you really think about it, you found out today that you get to keep on living instead. And that’s a whole other ball game.
I thought about that. For the past weeks, it had been about not dying, and that simple reversal, the concept of getting to keep on living, was amazing and liberating. And a justification as to why I felt renewed.
But would those feelings stay past this moment? Already, Mathias had started to root around for his clothes, which meant that Defiance would start stirring soon enough. The sounds of the storm had abated—I could only tell because he’d put on slower music.
Before he could pull his shirt on, I caught his arm and ignored the ugly scars on my own wrist, the way I always did. I traced the tattoo on his forearm and realized there were scars under the ink that you couldn’t see. But under my fingers, I felt the ridge and I looked up at him with what must’ve been a question on my face.
On purpose, he mouthed, but he signed too, which must be an ingrained habit. I was personally fascinated by it. And by his mouth too, which meant lip-reading certainly wasn’t a chore.
“Why?”
It’s a custom where I’m from. A good-luck charm.
“You did that?”
My friend did this one.
“But you tattoo.”
He nodded and I pointed to myself. He raised a brow and I said, “I’m sure.”
He nodded in agreement but really, he was simply humoring me. Neither of us knew how long I’d be there. And I was sure he’d get in some kind of trouble for getting close to me.
You look sad, he mouthed. Why?
“The storm’s my saving grace right now.”
Most people don’t think that way about a storm that lasts nearly twenty-four hours.
“When it’s over, then things will change. This—” I pointed between us, “—will change. And I might have to go back home and I never want to go back there, to the way things were.” I paused to take a breath. “I bet you can’t understand that.”
Don’t bet against me.
“I’m sure your friends here will have all kinds of questions for me.”
He didn’t deny that, simply said, I’ve got one for you too.
“Okay. That’s fair.”
He studied me for a few seconds, then mouthed, Who are you, Jessa?
In the past, it would’ve been so simple to answer that. I was the daughter of one of the most powerful men in the world. But I’d been fighting everything my whole life because that’s not only who I was. That’s who—what—I was supposed to be, and nothing more. Marrying Charlie to make our empire stronger during this time of political uncertainty was something that should’ve strengthened me. Instead, I was painfully aware of how much of a mistake I’d made.
“I don’t know,” I told him, my voice strangled with tears. “I really don’t know.”
Nothing wrong with that, as long as you’re willing to find out.
Was I? Did I have a choice?
Everyone has a choice.
I hadn’t realized I’d spoken out loud. “You really believe that?”
He nodded, then his hand was combing through my hair, pushing it off my shoulder, then rubbing my bare skin. My breasts were exposed—I’d never been this exposed and comforted at the same time.
If Mathias believed I had a choice, maybe it was time for me to start believing it too. This was the first day on a new path.
Tonight is our last stand
Mathias
Jessa was looking at my tattoo again and she was rubbing one of her wrists as she did so. Whether it was consciously or not, it didn’t matter. We both had scars, but the reasons for hers had to be different.
“Mine had nothing to do with a charm,” she said to me now. “Then again, I don’t believe in charms anyway. If I believed in charms, I’d have to believe in curses too.”
What do you believe in?
“I think you have to create your own destiny. Sometimes it’s hard, because you can’t always control what’s happening in your life.”
So you’re logical.
“The look on your face tells me you think that’s a dirty word.”
You need to live a little.
“Live a little?” She motioned around her and I nodded, because if you couldn’t free yourself now, you never had a shot. When I told her that, she rubbed her scars again and nodded, like she was considering it.
When I was younger, my mama used to tell me these stories—they were true stories, and they were always about fate and faith and finding your path.
“Did you?”
I’m still looking for my line in the sand. And even if I find it, who knows if there’s a time I’d need to cross it.
“I grew up with logic. That was what my parents expected of me.”
So you don’t believe in fate either?
“I don’t think so.”
I think you’re lying to yourself.
She blinked at me and said, “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
Killing me softly
Jessa
There were dozens of tapes in several containers in the back. There were a lot of cassette tapes of groups, but also a lot of handmade tapes.
Mixed tapes, he called them. They were a big thing back in the ’80s, before CDs and shit. You liked someone, you made them a tape. You broke up with someone, you made a tape with sad songs.