The Dark and Hollow Places - Carrie Ryan [75]
“I’m not interested in Elias like that,” I tell her. “He loves you, and even if I did have some kind of say in the matter, I’m not sure I could ever care for him the way you do.”
Her whole body relaxes and tears glisten in her eyes. Her bottom lip trembles slightly. “Thank you,” she whispers.
Just having said the words makes me feel lighter, as if I’ve let go of some dark gray burden.
“What about Catcher?” she asks, coming to sit next to me, the bed groaning under our weight.
“What about him?”
“Are you going to fight for him?” She tilts her head as if sharing a secret, a glint of mischief in her eyes.
I think about the look on Catcher’s face when he told me I was beautiful. The horror and want and need. The agony. And then I remember what he said when we first met. “He told me he’s broken. I don’t know if he even wants me, or anyone else, for that matter.”
My sister slips her hand into mine. “The broken ones need someone to fight for them even harder,” she says, her thumb tracing over the scars on the back of my fingers.
“I don’t know,” I tell her, remembering how it felt when he pushed me away. I don’t want to risk feeling that hurt again.
My sister shrugs as she stands from the bed. “You’re the one who told me that we can’t live our lives in fear,” she says as she walks from the room. She pauses in the hallway. “By the way,” she adds, “if you were wondering, Catcher told us he’s heading to the City tonight. Said it would be a while before he made it back. He’s probably already down at the cable-car platform by now.”
It’s a few seconds before I can move but I finally jump from the bed and hurry to the window, staring down at the river. Little bonfires burn along the wall, Recruiters huddled around them as they rotate off shifts protecting the shore.
I see Catcher making his way toward the cable car and my heart lurches. I wish I could be sure that he wouldn’t reject me—not again. But I know I have to risk it—I have to see him before he leaves. I have to tell him I’m sorry for being so angry on the roof.
I have to fight for him.
Quickly, I pull on my damp coat and run through the flat to the stairs and out into the night. I race toward the platform, watching as Catcher strides to the car that will take him away.
“Catcher!” I scream, not caring that I’m drawing attention to myself. Not caring about anything but seeing him. Touching him. But he’s already in the car, pulling the door shut. I stoop and grab a handful of snow. As hard as I can, I throw it at him and it explodes against the side of the car.
I grab another. “Catcher, wait!” But the Unconsecrated in her little wheel is already lumbering forward, grinding the gears that will propel Catcher away from me. I climb up to the launch platform as the car hovers over the middle of the river.
He stands looking out the broken back window, his hands tucked into his pockets and a small sad smile on his face. My breath hitches. I still have the remnants of a snowball in my hand, a streak of red from my thumb smeared across it where I somehow cut myself. I take a few steps toward the ledge and then I let it go.
It sails through the air and Catcher doesn’t even try to dodge it but instead lets it hit square on his chest. Where his heart is. He doesn’t move or do anything but stare at me. In the darkness his cheekbones look sharper under his skin and dark shadows fan around his eyes.
He looks exhausted and lonely and I ache wishing I could leap across the distance between us. To pull him to me and let his heat devour me.
I hold my arms out wide. “I’m sorry,” I scream at him, but I don’t know if he hears me. Instead the car just continues to take him back to the Dark City, the cables jolting. I can see when it lands, see him stepping out among a sea of Unconsecrated.
“Catcher.” My voice breaks. I want to tell him to wait. To come back. To simply let me touch him and look at him and make sure he’s okay. I need to know that everything’s all right with him and me and this