“But you’re wanted.” I frowned. “On the run.”
“Well, it’s not going to happen tomorrow or anything, and who knows what’ll happen between now and then. If I have to, I’ll find a way to change my appearance and take a different name. But when the time comes, and Mareeka and Surral want to retire, I’m going to run the orphanage.”
“That’s a huge obligation.” I squeezed the back of my neck, trying to wrap my head around Tess being responsible for that whole place—for thousands of children, their food, clothes, health, education. Everything.
It took me all of two seconds to realize it was perfect for her. And if nothing changed in the galaxy, she’d churn out little rebels as fast and furtively as her beloved Mareeka did.
“It’s not an obligation. It’s a gift.” Her voice thickened, dropping. “But it’s an important and difficult gift. Lives will be in my hands. People’s health and safety and education. And not just schooling—a sense of duty, justice, ethics. Starway 8 is a city, and I’ll have to run it. Make decisions. Deal with problems. Make sure supplies are coming in and repairs are made and security’s up to scratch. Hire employees, caretakers, nurses, and teachers when there are openings. There’ll never be a day off. Never a day when multiple people won’t need me. It’s what I want, but it’s also a commitment of epic proportions.” Her eyes flicked to mine before skating away again. “I’d love to have help—I’ll need it—but I also realize that not everyone’s looking for that kind of responsibility.”
She looked off in the distance, as if expecting that to be the end of us. Did she think there was even a nanoparticle chance of that? All her words did was yank up everything I’d thought about constantly over the last ten years with a violence that left me reeling. I’d practically sold my soul to try to do exactly what she was describing. The Albion 5 docking district should have been my city. The dozens of towering buildings my responsibility to maintain. The employees mine to organize, help, and protect.
“Why are you telling me this now? Tonight?” I practically shook from the rush of adrenaline in my blood.
Tess took what seemed like a fortifying breath. “My uncle put a huge price on your head. Coming with me tomorrow, staying with me in general—it’s going to put you in danger. You don’t have to be a Nightchaser. You can come up with a new identity and find a nice rock out there where no one’ll look for you or bother you again. Starway 8 is my future—if I live long enough to inherit. It’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted. Well”—her gaze tipped skyward—“besides the Overseer’s timely and gruesome death, I suppose.”
I smiled. My lips just did it, involuntary.
Tess smiled, too, our eyes meeting for a quick shot of shared humor before she turned serious again. “I’ve known since I was a teenager. Mareeka watched and understood. She saw me take any responsibility offered to the older kids. I wouldn’t stop, kept wanting more, so she groomed me. She taught me about running Starway 8. I could go back tomorrow and take an administrative position, but they don’t need me yet. Not really. And right now, I’m a danger to them. I don’t think I should go back for a while.”
Maybe not, but she sure sounded like she wanted to. So, this was why Tess hadn’t shown any interest in moving up the rebel ranks. With the enhancers as leverage, she could’ve demanded pretty much anything, even a spot on the council. But Tess didn’t want to change her future. She just wanted to live long enough to embrace it.
I took her fidgety hand in mine, squeezing so she’d hold still and look at me. “It would cut you to the bone and crush you if you could never go back there.”
She nodded. “I will go back—unless it’s not what’s best for the orphanage. I have to know, Shade. I realize it’s still early in…everything. And we’ve had issues…” She glanced away, her gaze roaming the patio and landing on anything but me. “But if you can’t at all see yourself there someday, with me, with those kids, then there’s no point in going to the Grand Temple with me tomorrow. There’s no point in putting yourself in danger again.”
I replayed her words in my head, not answering right away. There wasn’t a single thing she’d just said that I shouldn’t take very seriously. Part of it smarted. Tess had been my first choice, but I wasn’t hers—at least not yet. But none of this felt like an ultimatum, either.
Her gaze dropped to the patio floor. She angled away from me.
“Where are you going?” I slid my hand around the back of her neck, stopping her. “Don’t you want an answer to what you just told me?”
Her eyes flicked up, the mix of hope and fear in them making me want to rip out my own beating heart and hand it to her like some kind of fucked-up savage. “I don’t want you to ever have to give up something you love that much. Not for me. Not for anyone. The only thing that should possibly keep you away from Starway 8 is knowing its occupants are safer without you. And even then, I know you’d keep protecting it from afar. Providing and defending.”
Moisture rushed to her eyes, making them glisten in the low lamplight. I pulled her in until our foreheads touched. Tess’s breath sped across my cheek, and my pulse thudded heavily. This woman’s absolute dedication to things bigger than herself was why I loved her.
I held her gaze. The whisper of air between us began to simmer with heat and the best kind of tension. “I want you, whether you come with no kids, or five thousand.”
Her little gasp was the most satisfying sound I’d heard in ages. “More like seven thousand.”
All right. “The more the merrier.”
“Are you being sarcastic?” She pulled back, her eyes narrowing. Already getting her ruff up over those kids. Who better to guard them?
“Not at all, starshine.” My heart took up a fierce beat inside me, galloping toward a finish line I could finally see again. This was my second chance. There was no way in hell I was wasting it.
“If I’d been able to buy back my docks from Scarabin White, I would’ve been responsible for thousands of employees on two planets, for managing managers, for bookkeeping, safety regulations, building maintenance, contracts, deliveries, and about a million other things that aren’t all fun or fascinating but that would’ve been part of a whole that was mine. Mine to build, to protect, to take care of. I wanted that—the whole package. I understood the scope of the job from watching my father do it. And I understand the kind of commitment it would take to be at the head of that orphanage. It doesn’t scare me to think about helping you with that. Granted, the newborn to eighteen-years-old age group and everything that comes with it is a new element, but I can adapt.” I searched her eyes, willing her to understand. “Don’t you see? You’re offering me everything I thought I’d lost, including you in my future.”