Testament (4 page)

“How could you, Griff!”

“I had to.”

I shook my head furiously from side to side. The very word,
Abir
, sent a shudder through me. It was a rag-tag gang of Jewish and Christian believers who had survived the rebellion, and who had escaped the transports to the Believer’s Province. Before, I had only heard whispers of their existence beneath the city in the old subway and sewer systems, and now my own brother was telling me he was a member. “After what happened to Mom and Dad, I can’t believe you would risk your life for rebellion. I mean, you might as well just put a gun to your head!”

“It’s not like that at all. You can’t imagine how organized it is—the money and resources we have.” His face spread into a grin. “We’re really going to do it this time, Cadence.”

“How could you go behind my back?”

His expression darkened. “I had to. I knew you’d never agree with me joining.”

“Were you ever going to tell me, or just let me find out when they sent you home in a body bag?”

“Don’t be so dramatic. When the time was right, yes, I would have.” At what must’ve been my skeptical expression, he shook his head. “It’s the truth. And now with the news about Richard and the pageant, it’s time.” Griff grabbed my hands in his. “Don’t you see how important you could be to our cause? If you were to win this pageant, you would have unprecedented access to the palace. We could get past the guards and take over the government.”

My chest clenched at the passion in his voice. I had heard that tone before. Abandoning their usual card games, my parents’ raised voices held the same emotion as they plotted with fellow believers around the dining room table. I couldn’t bear the thoughts of losing Griff, the only person I had left in the world.

“So, you’re asking me to risk my own life along with yours?”

His eyes narrowed as he dropped my hands. “You don’t think of anyone or anything but yourself.”

I gasped. “Excuse me? By worrying about you getting killed, I’m being selfish and self-centered? You’re the asshole sneaking around and jeopardizing our entire world.”

Griff scuffed at the grass with his feet. “Some things are worth dying for, and some lives aren’t worth living either.”

The venom in his tone cut through me. Maybe I was self-centered. I had failed to notice or understand the depth of Griff’s pain at the life we’d been reduced to—the choking and suffocating darkness of having your dreams snatched away from you. He lived everyday thinking of the future that would never be while I refused to let myself think past the next day. Seeing the years to come through Griff’s eyes caused a sinking hopelessness to flood me. A resigned sigh escaped from my lips and hung heavy between us. “I understand,” I finally murmured.

He stared at me in surprise. “Does that mean you want to join the Abir?”

“Not exactly.” Griff’s face started to fall, so I shook my head. “Regardless of how much I loathe Kellan or detest the idea of the pageant, I’ll do my best to win. Whatever happens after that, will be up to the Abir.”

Griff threw his arms around me and squeezed me tight. “Thank God you came to your senses.”

I stiffened at the word God. It was the unmentionable word we were never to utter out-loud. Should the wrong person here you, it could mean death.

Griff noticed my aversion. “Sorry. I couldn’t help myself.”

“It’s okay.” I pecked his cheek. “Just be more careful—in all you say and do, okay?”

“I will.” He stood up from the grass and offered me his hand. “Come on. We better get home before dark.”

We walked hand and hand back to the house.

Later than night, I found myself tossing and turning in bed. Sleep became evasive as doubt and anxiety swallowed me whole. I knew there was only one thing that would soothe me. It was late and it was risky, but in the end, I knew I didn’t have much choice.

I pulled on a sweater over my gown and slipped on my shoes. Pausing outside Griff’s door, the rumbling of his snores filled my ears. I quietly padded down the hall and out the back door. The moonlight illuminated the back yard, but I could have found my way blindfolded.

Just at the edge of the woods, I knelt down in front of an apple tree. My hand felt along a gnarled root until I found just the right spot. My fingernails dug into the soft earth. I burrowed further and further into the dirt until half my arm was buried. I stopped digging when my fingers banged against a box. I reached inside the hole and pulled it out. The rusted Band-Aid tin didn’t look like any sort of treasure, but it held the contents of one of the few treasures of my past.

The tin lid popped open, and the beaded chain dropped out into my hand. The silver crucifix gleamed in the moonlight. My fingers feathered over the beads as the words formed on my lips, “Hail Mary, full of grace.”

I didn’t dare utter the words out-loud. They echoed in my mind as loud as if they came from a microphone. Sometimes, if I concentrated hard enough, I could hear my mother’s voice repeating the Hail Mary. The rosary had been given to me on my First Communion. Against all odds, my mother had hidden it when our house had been searched by the government. While the crucifix that hung over our door and the picture of the Last Supper were burned in the front yard, our rosaries had been carefully sewn into our coats and skirts. It was a subtle throwback to my mother’s days as a History Professor. She taught about how when Nicholas II of Russia was overthrown, his wife, the Tsarina Alexandra, had hid imperial jewels by sewing them into their clothes.

I didn’t know where Griff had hidden his. We had buried our parents with theirs—a final gesture of what they had stood for, and in the end, died for. The thought of them sent stinging tears to my eyes.

A twig snapped behind me, and I whirled around. The rosary fell from my hands. “M-Micah, what are you doing here?”

He glanced from the ground back to me. “I thought you might be out here.”

Without taking my eyes from his, I tried to slide the rosary with one of my feet into a pile of leaves. “And just why did you think that?” I asked, trying to keep his mind occupied.

“You don’t have to hide it from me, Cadence,” he murmured.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“The rosary. You’re a Believer.” There was no accusation in his voice or change in tone.

“Besides, I already knew.”

“You did?”

“I saw your tattoo.”

I gasped. “But how? I’ve always kept it hidden.”

Embarrassment filled Micah’s face. “I saw you swimming one night in the cove...just in your underwear.”

My tattoo burned on my shoulder as heat rose from my neck and filled my cheeks. “Y-you s-saw me?” Micah nodded. “I can’t believe it. How embarrassing!” I cried, burying my head in my hands. But then, white hot anger flashed through me, interrupting my mortification. “Wait a minute. What were you doing spying on me anyway?”

Micah held up his hands. “It was only that one time. It’s not like I stalk you or something. I just saw you coming out here and wondered what you were up to. Then, when I saw you…” His eyes took a serious edge. “I couldn’t look away.”

Words seemed to evaporate from my mind, rendering me speechless. I fumbled with the edge of my sweater—trying to pull it tighter around my sheer nightgown. Finally, I found my voice. “Why didn’t you report us?”

“You think I would do something like that?” he asked, his expression darkening.

I shrugged. “The bounty for a Believer is worth a fortune. If you’d turned us in, you and your mother would have been taken care of for life.”

“I would rather starve to death than gorge myself on the blood money of my friends!” he spat.

His anger pulsed through me, and I shook my head. “I’m sorry. It’s just I didn’t think Griff and I had anyone else who cared about us.”

“You shouldn’t even have to wonder why I wouldn’t turn you in.”

Without taking his eyes from mine, Micah whisked his shirt over his head. His broad chest gleamed in the moonlight. He grabbed my hand in his. “Are you crazy?” I demanded, jerking my hand away.

“I wanted—”

“Yeah, I have a good idea what you wanted, but I’ll be damned if I sleep with you just to keep our secret.”

His reaction was one hundred and eighty degrees different than what I expected. Laughter rolled through him. “Cadence, I wasn’t about to force myself on you.”

“You weren’t?”

“Uh, no, I wasn’t.”

My brows furrowed. “But you admitted you watched me swim and you took off your shirt….” I argued feebly. In my mortification, I wanted to snatch up my rosary and begin praying for the ground to open up and save me from the embarrassment.

“I took off my shirt to show you this.” He took my hand in his and drew me close to him. His distinctive musky scent filled my nose, and it sent an unfamiliar tingle through me. Heat filled my cheeks at how close I was to him. I mean, I had stood close to him before. He had bandaged my hand today, for goodness sake. But this was different—there was an intimacy to this.

A scar burned a small crater into his back. Its raised edges were almost jagged while the top was smooth to the touch.

“I don’t—”

“That’s where my tattoo should be.”

I gasped and jerked my hand back. “W-What do you mean?”

“Besides the fact that I care about you and Griff, I’d be a hypocrite not to keep your secret because I’m one of the faithful, too.”

“I can’t believe it,” I murmured.

Micah leaned back against a tree trunk, his shirt still in his hand. “It’s the truth. My father was a Rabbi. We were going to flee when the rebellion came. He knew we needed to get rid of our tattoos, but in the end, he decided I should have the most chance at survival. He burned it away to look like I’d been in an accident. He’d just finished, when the authorities burst through the door. He sent me underneath the house—through this passageway under the floor. My mother was already hiding there.” Micah drew a sharp, pained breath. “Then, through the cracks in the boards, we were forced to watch as they shot him.”

My arms involuntarily went out to him. I hugged him tightly to me, feathering my fingers over his scar. “Oh, Micah, I’m so sorry. I had no idea what you’d been through.”

He nodded and pulled away. “Now you know why my mother is the way she is.”

Micah’s mother reminded me a bird that had been caged too long. She never smiled—she never laughed. She just appeared to go through the motions as if forced along by an invisible hand. Only a few times I’d been around her had she ever broken through her prison of darkness and shown shades of a remarkable woman.

“Yes, I can understand.”

Micah cleared his throat. “Anyway, I imagined after the news today that you’d probably either come for a swim or come for your rosary.”

I cocked my head at him. “But I thought you said that was the only time you saw me swimming?”

A sheepish grin filled his cheeks. “Well, maybe it’s the only time I saw you swimming in your
underwear
.”

“So what, you just come out here to make sure I’m all right or something?”

He kicked the leaves in front of him, avoiding my gaze. “Does that make me a creep?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know what it makes you.”

“It’s not like I’m standing outside your window, watching you while you sleep. I keep my distance—it’s just…I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I can take care of myself,” I insisted, jerking my chin up.

He sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I realize you are my intellectual equal, if not superior, and if someone did try to hurt you, it would probably end badly for them, not you.”

“I’m glad you realize that.”

“But then at the same time, our world just isn’t safe anymore. And I don’t want anything or anyone to hurt you.”

Even though it irritated me to no end, his words caused my heartbeat to accelerate. I didn’t know what it was like to have another male worry about me. “Well, I guess it’s all right that you’ve been watching out for me. But, you shouldn’t be sneaking around doing it. I’m a big girl, and for the most part, I can take of myself.”

His usual impish eyes grew serious. “But sometimes, don’t you want someone to take care of you? To be there after a hard day, or tell you everything is going to be all right?”

I chewed on my bottom lip. As much as I liked to believe I had everything under control, I knew, deep down, I didn’t. I longed to share the burden with someone. “Maybe,” I whispered.

Before I realized what was happening, his lips were touching mine. My very first kiss was under the apple tree where I hid my rosary, and it was with my brother’s best friend. All that made for a wave of emotions I didn’t think I could understand. Did I like Micah in a romantic way? Were we kissing out of desperation after the news of the pageant? And if I didn’t care about him, why did the feel of his lips send a warm tingle shooting from my head to my toes?

Micah’s tongue parted my lips, and I almost jerked back from the feel of our deepening kiss. But I stood still, letting the sensation engulf me, like ocean waves lapping the shore. His fingers tugged at my hairclip, sending hair spilling over my shoulders. When his tongue slid a warm trail to my ear, a lightheaded feeling overwhelmed me, and I pulled away. Staring up into his hooded eyes, I shook my head. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”