"You lying bastard!" I scream and push against Amell's grip.

"For the love of god will you listen to me?" He leans his weight on top of my restless limbs, his hands wrapping around my wrists. Making all my efforts to escape nearly impossible.

"Get off of me, Amell." I spit, his name poison on my tongue. "I hate you! I hate who and what you are. More importantly, I hate what you stand for."

His brows furrow and his jaw clenches. I have hit a nerve, my words must have cut deeper than I thought.

"I'm here to give you what you wanted." Amell lets my wrists go and sits up. With my hands-free to move, I slap him across the face.

The weight of my action sinks in as the echo of the hollow slap ricochets with quiet agony. The sound bounces off the tall steel walls, mocking me with trepidation. Amell remains quiet and stands up before offering a hand which I leave hanging helplessly in the air.

"And what do I want exactly?" I jump up with a glare.

My persona lets me hide that the slap had made me uncomfortable and un-wanting to do it again. I have hit a man before, it's a natural occurrence for people in the slums. Merciless defence is the only way to survive here, yet hitting Amell has left an odd flavour in my mouth I would not like to taste again.

"You don't know what I want." I growl, bearing my teeth at him.

"I do, actually," Amell stares into my hostile gaze as if it were a welcoming one. "You want a well-paying job so you can feed your family."

"The only thing I want from you is your head on a stake!" I yell and take a few steps back. "How could you tell them who I am? What I am?"

"I didn't," Amell leans against a trash can and sighs rubbing his pink cheek, "I promise. If I did it wouldn't be me chasing you down, it would be the DEU."

I pause. Thinking about his words carefully, skepticism and anxiety running deeply throughout my nerves.

"How can a Second Gen get me a well paying job?" I squint, interrogation thick in my voice.

"I'm not a Second Gen." Amell states bluntly, "I'm a First Gen."

My jaw slacks and I shake my head, "I don't believe you. People like you don't leave your palaces."

Ignoring my comment Amell begins to walk away. My curiosity is a string attached to him yanking me along. Heading towards my home he glances over his shoulder. "I'm getting you out of here too."

"Wait, what?" I stop and tear the string from his body. He turns and reaches for my wrist but I pull it away. "What do you mean?"

Amell lets a small smile slip onto his lips, "We can't have a maid of the top household living in the Third Generation."

"A maid... in the top household?" I gasp as all of my resentment and lividity escapes my gaping mouth. "How? How did you get me into the Sanders household?"

Amell grabs my hand, probably to prevent me from slapping his again, and replies, "Well there are perks to being—"

"Mr. Sanders." One guard states, "Miss Gale's things are packed courtesy of Ivrin Gale."

Mr. Sanders? He's one and only son of the infamous Sanders family. How could I've been so blind? Amell Sanders. That's him. I stare, doe-eyed, and in awe as he pulls me behind him towards a rusted truck. I slapped him! I slapped the most respected 23-year-old man in the First Generation. Why is he still helping me, a Defect? I'm putting his life on the line by simply standing next to him.

"Elysia!" Pa calls from our doorway, his shadow framed by a warm light. I draw my attention from my swarm of thoughts and withdrawal my hand from Amell's warm one.

I look at Pa, Sam at his side squeezing his hand tightly before letting it go and running to me. Instinctively I bend down and open my arms as he rushes into my embrace.

"Don't leave. We can manage without the money." Sam whispers, his tears dampening the collar of my greasy shirt.

Pulling away I cup just face in my hands. "I am not letting you stave again. I am going to be taken care of and I'll make sure that I am careful."

"Who will be there to protect you when I am not there?" Sam sniffles and peers at me through his wet eyelashes.

"I will," Amell lowers himself to Sam's level and pushes his hand out for a handshake. "But I need you to trust me. Okay?"

Sam hesitates before grabbing his hand with a firm grip. "If I find even a scratch on her you'll be answering to me Mr."

"Sir yes Sir." Amell smiles and gives one hardy shake before letting go. "Your sister is in good hands. I will protect her the best I can, but I have a feeling she doesn't need me for that."

That earns a smile from Sam as he gives Amell a sturdy nod.

I quickly rush to Pa and wrap my arms around his torso. "Did Sam give you the money?" I whisper so no one can hear us.

"He did," Pa whispers back, "I am proud of you El. But please, do not get caught. There will be plenty of DEU officers there already, we can't have got you scanned or they'll know you aren't one of them. You'll be killed on the spot. Sam would lose his only sister and I'd lose my only hope."

I kiss his cheek and back away. "I will try my best." Backing away I kiss Sam on the top of his head and hop onto a back seat of the truck, an officer sitting between Amell and me.

The truck rumbles and shakes as it travels down the road, away from the people I know to a place I don't. Unsure of what lays ahead of me I close my eyes and hope that my life is safe with Amell. I have no choice but to trust him.

₪ ₪ ₪

Turning down another ally I gasped for air and rested my hands on my knees. The store owners were hot on our heels so I didn't think we lost them yet.

"Do you trust me?" I swallowed the lump in my throat.

President's hand shot out and pushed me against the wall to hide from a pedestrian walking by. He stood beside me, flattened against the brick trying to avoid drawing any attention to us. The voices of our assailants echoing, they were still looking for us.

President gasped for air and nodded his head, "Of course I trust you."

I gulped and took his hand resting on my chest, "Good, because we are going to get caught if we don't do this."

"Do what?" He questioned glancing down the ally a voice was traveling from.

Pulling him to my chest I grabbed the back of his neck and drew him close, "Close your eye—"

President smashed his lips on mine and I closed my eyes just as a figure rounded the corner. I deepened the kiss and clutched his clothes pulling him closer. His hands tangled in my hair and pressing me against the wall. His warmth and scent was intoxicating and made my head spin, loosing sight of what the goal was I kept him close. Even after our assailants left.

We pulled away and took a moment to catch our breaths which had floated away in the heat of the moment. My eyes lingered in his gaze too long for me to say that I felt nothing. When a focus of fact is when I kissed him I felt everything. Everything made sense and it felt right. I found the final puzzle piece and it turns out this relationship was never supposed to be a friendship. And he felt it too.

Without another word, I leaned in for another kiss and he met me halfway. This time it was slow and savory. And once again, everything felt in place.