Page 53 of Glass

I feel like I blink once before we reach the bottom stairwell. I almost feel like I’m outside my own body, watching us escape from a bird’s eye view as my heart pounds so hard it feels like it’s the only thing I can hear.

Head for Central Park, I tell Poppy as I turn for the emergency exit door.There has to be somewhere there we can find to shift.

I leap to slam into the push bar to open the door, wincing against the pain from impact as Poppy darts through the opening. I land on my feet and keep moving, falling into place at Poppy’s hip in a protective formation.

I’m fully prepared to sacrifice myself for her if needed. Even after she fucking left me again. But as we round the building in the direction nearby Central Park, the roaring crowd that’s gathered to watch the burning building collectively moves away. Screams tear through the crowd as people get a good look at us moving through an area where we, by all means, shouldn’t exist.

Maybe if we’re lucky, this will cause enough confusion to give us the cover we need.

Firefighters are storming Arnoult’s lab—they, too, falter as they take in the sight of us, but quickly focus on what’s important once they realize we’re sprinting wildly away from the crowd. I can barely make out the sounds of someone calling for animal control over the sound of my own heartbeat.

What if this doesn’t work?Poppy asks.

I nudge my shoulder into her hip in acknowledgement but don’t respond. It has to work because this is the best plan I have. Years of staying well-hidden did not prepare me for the moment where hiding wouldn’t be a rational choice.

We forge ahead into the park, dodging horrified New Yorkers and tourists who either stop to stare or run shouting in the opposite direction as we barrel our way through the park.

This is a fucking nightmare. Being exposed like this is everything I’ve spent years avoiding, but there’s no going back now. When the moment came to make a choice, I did.

I chose Poppy over The Lost, and I would do it a hundred times over.

She zigzags her way across the park until we make it to a bank of trees in an otherwise empty area. She barely crosses into the shelter of the tree cover before she shifts, falling to the ground exhausted in her human form.

I’m not far behind her, but I land on my feet. I kneel immediately to look her over for any sign of serious injury. When she lifts her head to look at me, I see that the cut on her head is already closed and healing.

“I’m okay,” she rasps out hoarsely. The smoke inhalation has gotten to her, but otherwise, I don’t see anything that she can’t easily heal from.

I stand up and pace away from her, desperately needing a moment to collect myself in hopes of controlling the anger that’s starting to work its way back to the surface now that I know she’s relatively safe. She put everything at risk. Everything. Herself, the pack, our entire existence.

But she also managed to find the one way to get rid of our problem that technically doesn’t break shifter law. Murdering Arnoult would have been my first choice—a permanent solution to the problem—but it would have brought Tasha Jarreau straight to our doorstep.

To be fair, running out of a burning building in wolf form will also bring her to my doorstep if the word gets out. All I can hope is there's no proof we came from inside the building. If everyone missed that part in the chaos of the fire, I might stand a chance at finding help to plant a story about a zoo escape.

It’s an embarrassing fucking cover story, but it’s the best case scenario.

“Felix.” Poppy’s hand tentatively touches the back of my shoulder, and I suck in a deep breath through my nostrils in an attempt to calm myself, even a little, before I speak to her. I’m fucking angry, yeah, but I don’t want to scare her off. The last thing she needs is another reason to run from me.

I turn eventually, and her hand falls away. I miss the touch instantly. “Do you not trust me?” I ask in a pained voice. I thought we were building something, but hell, maybe it was stupid to think that after such a short time together.

“Yes, I do.” There’s a perplexing lack of hesitation in her answer.

“You have a funny way of showing it.” I hate the way she tears her gaze away from mine, frowning at the ground. “We need to get out of here. There were security cameras all over that building, and I’m sure at least some of that footage will go to cloud storage.” Which is something she clearly didn’t give enough consideration to. “You’re going to have to stay well out of the public eye for a while. You won’t be able to travel freely until things die down.”

“I know.” She raises her head and looks me dead in the eyes. “I was hoping…” she trails off.

It’s going to hurt so much worse if she comes home with me only to leave again the second it's safe again. I’m fully aware of that fact. It doesn’t change the fact that I’d rather have that time with her than lose her now. I’m not confident I’ll ever be able to change her mind about staying, but I’ll take every memory I can get for when she’s gone.

It’s more than I would have had if I let her go yesterday, though.

It’s more than I would have had if she never showed up at all. We could have gone our whole lives never crossing paths. I have to swallow my anger, at least enough to appreciate her presence while I still can.

There will be time to be angry again when she’s gone.

“Let’s go home,” I say, already reaching for her hand. None of this was how I initially expected Brooklyn to go, but the end result is what I wanted. Poppy is going home to a place among The Lost…

For now.