Chapters (47)
- Front Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Contents
- Part One
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Part Two
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Part Three
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Acknowledgments
- Excerpt from Survive the Dome
- Prologue
- 6 Months Later
- One
- About the Author
- Back Cover
A throaty laugh leaves my mouth. “I’m going to need to hear that someday. But first…I need to do something.”
“Anything,” he says without hesitation.
He’s not going to be that eager once he hears what I’m thinking.
“I need to go back, Blake,” I whisper, so quietly that I’m not sure I even say it. “One more time.”
“Andre…you know…”
“I know.”
“The risk you’d be taking.”
“I know.”
Blake looks at me.
“I need to say goodbye. We left on such bad terms. I need to make sure he’s okay if I’m going to let him go.”
I expect him to say no. I’m ready for it. I wouldn’t blame him; he just got me back, I’m alive, and what would saying goodbye do for me, anyway? All reasonable answers. All logical answers.
But what I’m doing, what I am, isn’t logical anymore. It’s emotional, it’s feelings, it’s biochemical reactions fueling my motives in ways I didn’t know were possible. And I know this is something I need to do.
And I want Blake’s support while I do it.
Blake sighs, running his fingers through his hair. Slowly, he takes my right hand into his left one. Then he puts my left hand over his and puts his right hand on top. He leans forward, resting his forehead against mine, his eyes closed.
“Make me your tether,” he says. “Think of me when you go, think of me when you want to return. I’ll be here for you. I’ll be there with you. I’ll make sure you come back in one piece. I promise you.”
Is this really happening? I hesitate, waiting for Blake to change his mind, to come to his senses. But as he pulls his forehead back and smiles, that warm, boyish smile, I know he’s not going to. I know he’s in this for the long haul.
I kiss his knuckles, letting my lips linger. “I’ll come back; I promise.”
He nods. “I trust you.”
Thirty-One
Pain. So much freaking pain. The worst I’ve had so far.
It doesn’t feel like before. It’s not a searing or a throbbing pain but a type of surge that takes over every inch of my body. My bones, my muscles, my cells, even my hair and nails feel like they hurt. It feels like every cell is being ripped apart.
It takes me a moment to realize that I’m lying on a cool floor. The cold feels nice against my warm skin, and when I force myself up to my hands and knees, I can tell I’m drenched in sweat. My stomach heaves, twice actually, but no vomit comes up, and for that, I’m thankful.