A/N: Welcome back! I've looked ahead in the outline and this is going to be so fun! So stick along for the ride! 😂 Hehehehe

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05 - 29 - 2089

G I S

I stare through glass at the leaves floating by without a care in the world. For a moment, I wish to be a leaf, free from all human attachments. Free to float about and do absolutely nothing. A leaf is of no importance.

I thought I'd find freedom after escaping Ilene Lestat and GIADA, but now I'm not so sure. Instead of finding freedom, I feel as trapped as before, only in a different way. The enormity of everyone's expectations weigh on me, heavier with each passing moment.

My mind travels to the conversation with Cade that started us down this slippery slope. As much as I hate to admit it, I still feel that way. So many people are suffering right now, and I have the power to save them. Doesn't that mean I have a responsibility to do just that?

"What are you thinking about?" Cade's warm hand rests on my back as he comes to stand beside me. For a moment, I remain quiet as we stare out the window of the bedroom into the Tate's backyard.

"Nothing much," I say at last, offering a small shrug. The entirety of my mind is painfully aware of every point where Cade's fingers press against my skin. The more I think about it, the more my heart thuds in my chest. A blush rises to my cheeks, and I force myself to turn and face him, if only to break the contact. What is wrong with me?

Cade studies my face, too observant for his own good. As much as I love that about him, it can also be extremely aggravating. I can't keep anything from him, even if I wanted to. I watch as his left eyebrow tilts ever so slightly, the way it does when he is contemplating something.

I don't know what conclusion he comes to, but I can tell he doesn't want to argue with me. He loops his arm around my back before scooping me up, his other arm beneath my legs. Taken by surprise, I throw my arms around his neck, letting out a little gasp.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

Cade smirks, turning and walking over to the opposite side of the room. "I think you need to stop thinking so hard." With that, he releases me.

For a moment, I'm weightless. Then I land on my bed with a flop, arms splaying to my sides. I blink, staring up at Cade. "What was that for?" I'm not sure if I should laugh or be irritated.

Cade's smirk turns into a grin. "Just relax. Can't I enjoy some time with the most beautiful girl in the world?'

Most beautiful girl in the world. My face reddens. I cover it with one hand, hiding my giddy smile. All anxious thoughts float out of my mind and dissipate. Cade flops down beside me and turns on his side, propped up on one arm. The grin remains on his face, but when I look closer I catch a glimpse of tightness within his eyes. Something ever so slightly that looks forced.

"I really want to kiss you." The words come out before I can stop them. I hate myself just a little bit, but not as much as I thought I would. The softness in Cade's expression eases my ruminating, and he leans forward to oblige.

The kiss is soft, sweet. Tender, bright, and made of the most beautiful feelings one can have for another person. He kisses me like I'm his person, and he's mine. Which I don't mind one bit at all.

When I dare to pull him closer, wrapping my arms around his neck, he groans. His arms enclose around me, pressing me up against his chest. I breathe in the smell of him that is absolutely perfect. Clean and ever so masculine in a way that is uniquely Cade.

Pulling away is hard, but we remain pressed against one another. I lean my head against his chest, listening to the steady thump thump of his heartbeat. He strokes my hair, wrapping a strand around his fingers. Every touch and movement is gentle, practiced. Precise.

I allow my fingers to roam along his back, feeling the strength of his muscles as he shifts to allow me closer. I feel the place where his shoulders join with his neck, his skin warm to the touch.

Cade jerks before composing himself. "That... tickles," he manages. "Sorry. Please, don't stop."

I take a deep breath and rub my thumb over his ear, locking eyes with him. His gaze burns into me, and I know he's intently focused on me. My thumb travels down the back of his ear and towards the shaggy strands of hair at the back of his head. My fingers run across a gentle bump beneath his hair, and I hesitate.

I gently press on the bump, searching Cade's face. "Does that hurt?"

"What? No, why?" Cade reaches back to feel where my fingers press, noting the bump. He frowns. "It's probably just a mole."

I feel along the edges of the bump. "Did you hit your head?" It is a strange shape, but hard and unlike any mole I've ever felt. On the contrary, it feels entirely foreign. I sit up and part the hair to better see it.

A thin line runs across the bump, the skin only recently healed. A clean incision. "Cade, this isn't a mole. You have a scar here, where it looks like... well, I'm not sure what it looks like."

Cade tries reaching around and feeling it again, this time wincing slightly when he presses down on it. He squeezes it like he's trying to get it to pop, then groans and stops.

"Ouch," he mutters. "What the heck is it?"

"It almost feels like something..." I hesitate, unsure if I should continue. But I can't shake the feeling that whatever this bump is, it's not good. It brings a distant memory to mind, mostly because of the clean line slicing across it. Too intentional to be a mistake. I have scars like that all over my body.

Then it hits me. Three months ago, after Cade was shot, the Black Star had to take him away to save his life. I wasn't allowed to see him for almost a week, because he was in such a critical condition. And according to Cade, he remembers next to nothing of that time. But when we were reunited, his appearance had changed in more ways than one. Not only did he looks entirely gaunt and un-Cade-like, but his hair had also been shaved. I'd assumed it had been part of the procedure to save him. But he'd been shot in the abdomen, nowhere near his head. So why cut off his hair unless they needed access to his head for another reason?

Cade's expression mirrored my own, and I knew he was coming to a similar conclusion. Regardless, I wasn't prepared for his next words.

"Cut it out."

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After procuring a knife from Mrs. Tate's kitchen and a first aid kit from the bathroom, we sneak back into my bedroom, careful to shut the door quietly. Night has fallen in the hour since we discovered the bump on Cade's head and he told me to get it out of him. The Tate's are in bed but not asleep, as indicated by the faint light beneath their door.

Once we're safely back in the room, I set out the supplies beside Cade on the bed. The knife, some antiseptic wipes, and lots of gauze. I know from experience that scalp wounds tend to bleed profusely.

I clean my hands then pull on some disposable gloves. I lift the knife. Take a steadying breath. You can do this. You've seen Dr. Acosta do things like this a hundred times on yourself. You're basically an expert now, Gis.

When I lift my hand, Cade finds it and wraps his fingers around my wrist. "It's going to be okay."

I know he means to reassure me, but it isn't convincing enough. Whatever this bump means, something tells me everything is about to change.

"Hey," Cade's voice softens as he pulls me down next to him and faces me. He clasps my free hand, mindful of the knife in the other. "Whatever happens, we're together. We'll face the future hand in hand. Okay?"

I nod once. Then again, trying to convince myself. "Ready?"

"Ready."

-

"What is it?" I stare down at the tiny metal in my gloved hand, trying to study the intricate parts amidst the blood. Cade holds a piece of gauze to his head, staring down at it with me. When I look at him, dread curls in my stomach. His forehead his pinched, eyes full of concern.

"I think it's a tracker," he says at last, voice so soft I almost don't hear him.

"A tracker? So, someone's tracking us? Is it Dr. Acosta? Is it..." I don't have to finish the thought for him to know exactly what I'm talking about. I hate to say his mother's name out loud, to tempt the memories and risk them rising to the surface. Since finding out that the woman responsible for keeping me locked up is his mother, we've avoiding having any discussion on the topic.

"No, that's not possible. They would have been on us by now. And besides, they weren't the ones who shaved my head after saving my life." He looks at me then, understanding dawning between us.

"The Black Star," I breathe. "But why? We're in their safe house."

Cade pulls the gauze from his head to replace it with a fresh one. "I'm not sure, but I do know that they don't give a lick about me. They made that abundantly clear when we were at their base. In fact, I'm starting to wonder if the only reason they put up with me is because of you. Because they know you won't stick around if I'm not here."

"They don't trust you."

He shakes his head. "Nope, not even a little bit. They're probably worried that I'll try to run away with you."

"But they helped us," I say, confusion leading to frustration at the lack of clarity. What is going on? Why put a tracker in Cade when they're the good guys? They saved Cade and I from GIADA. This doesn't make sense.

"It's possible that they aren't so great after all," Cade says slowly, considering his words as he speaks. "We don't actually know what they want with you, Gis. What if they are only pretending to be nice in order to get us to trust them?"

The words sit heavily in my ears, weighing me down. I suddenly feel weak, tired from the strain of this knee knowledge. Part of me wishes we'd just left the dumb thing in. I sink onto the edge of the bed, staring down at the tiny chip in my hand. "Is this all a lie then?"

Cade follows suit before wrapping an arm around me. I lean into him, savoring his strength. Enjoying how he grounds me and keeps me sane. He doesn't respond to my question, which makes me realize he's wondering the same thing.

We remain this way for several minutes, pondering our options. Eventually, I drop the chip onto the bedside table among the scattered supplies, dirty gloves following. The unease I'm feeling is slowly being replaced by another emotion. Determination.

"I think we need to leave. I'm not sure Tesrine or the Black Star can be trusted." As much as it pains me to say, I know we can't stay here. If we remain this way, we are simply pawns for Tesrine and her organization to play with as they please.

"Then we'll leave," Cade agrees. "But first we need to make a plan. And we need to destroy this device before we go, so they can't track us." He glances at me. "Are you sure this is what you want to do?"

I shake my head. "No, but I think it's our only option."

He studies my face, considering. A moment passes, heavy and solid like a brick. I swallow. Then he nods.

"Let's do this. Together."

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