"Give me a glass of something strong."

The innkeeper looks up at me from wiping the counter at the other end of the bar. "In a minute, kid."

"Now." The command is half strangled growl, but it's enough to get the man's full attention.

He gives me a withering glare, but reaches under the bar, coming up with a bottle of rust colored liquor. He pours the small, clear glass to about a fourth. "You got any money?"

"Put it on Nick's tab." I snatch the glass and down the contents. What is Lyric's problem? Does she think I'm so in love with her that she can treat me like dirt whenever she wants? Just because I told her how I feel about her doesn't give her the right to brush me off like a flea.

What on God's earth attracts me to that girl? I feel guilty thinking about God while drinking, but it doesn't stop me from motioning for a refill. If my father could see me now, getting drunk over my desire for a black girl I can't have. A desire that is just getting stronger, not weaker. I need to stop thinking about her, get her off my mind. If returning to my wrong habits is the only way to do it, so be it.

Several throat burning drinks later, my mind is numb. But Lyric is still on it.

I lay my head down in my arms, groaning as my forehead begins to throb like a heartbeat.

"What's her name?"

The question comes from somewhere beyond my circle of arms. With serious effort I peel my head up to look at the innkeeper. "W-what?" My tongue feels weird, thick and heavy in my mouth. It's been a while since I've felt like this.

The man watches me with eagle like eyes, like he already knows my deepest secrets but is just being polite by asking. "The girl you're so broken about you're getting drunk on some of the nastiest liquor this side of Iowa."

I look down at my empty glass. It was nasty. And I hate myself for drinking it. I've been doing pretty good for a while, but I threw it out the window. Why did I think I could be more than a drunk anyway? A drunk who kills a man in cold blood.

"Lyric," I force myself to say.

"Is she the girl you came in with?"

I nod.

He winces. "That's not good."

I grunt. "You think?"

He leans across the counter, pressing his elbows into the bar. "Not good, but not impossible." He points across the room to the Asian woman who served us last night. "That's my wife."

He married a woman from a slave race? I've never heard of anyone doing that before. "Is that why you're in the rebellion too?"

"That's how it started. I was brought into it because I fell in love with her. But after I saw all she and people like her went through..." He shakes his head. "I realized it wasn't right. My ancestors made her a slave. She deserves to be free to go wherever she wants, be whatever she wants. Because of Janus, I finally understood that everyone's lives are equal. I stopped being the selfish, arrogant man I was. I stopped hating myself." His eyes follow Janus as she walks to the kitchen. "She changed my life, how can I not do everything in my power to change hers?"

"How about when she tells you she never wants to see you again?" I ask, still nursing the fog of depression and self pity.

He grins, pushing up from the bar counter. "I never said it was easy."

~

I wake up with my head under a bush. I sit up getting a mouthful of leaves before scooting out from under it.

The back of my neck feels like someone tried to kick it in. My shoulders and forehead ache every time I shift. I almost forgot about the punishment of a hangover. The sunlight shines down from overhead, bouncing off my face, simultaneously blinding me and making me want to vomit.

Footsteps disrupt the quiet of the woods. I go still, hoping whoever it is will pass by without seeing me. But they stop in front of the bush that separates us. Hands push apart the shrubbery until Lyric's face appears.

Seeing her brings back the memory of the reason for the drinking.

"What are you doing here?" I mean it to sound unemotional, but it comes out pathetically bitter.

"I should be asking you that." Her face is her usual mask of condescending disdain, but there's something else too. Concern maybe? It's probably just the alcohol playing tricks.

I shrug. A mistake. I groan from the stretch of pain that erupts from the movement.

Lyric bends down on her knees next to me. "Are you hurt?"

I rub the back of my head. "Yes. What do you care?"

She gathers her breath as if she's pulling her thoughts and patience together to have an argument with a child. "Zeke, don't sulk."

"Don't sulk?" My voice sounds like I've been gurgling rocks. "You just told me to stay away from you and now you followed me into the woods to see if I'm okay. What's your problem?"

"My problem?" Her eyebrows shoot up. "The innkeeper told me you got stone drunk and then wandered outside. I've been looking for you for almost an hour."

Shame mingles with my headache. I look down at the weed choked ground. "It was because of you."

She bites her bottom lip, drawing my attention to it. I wonder what would happen if I kissed her.

I hope that's an liquor induced thought.

"When are you going to realize I'm not a good person?" The question is so soft I almost don't hear it.

"When are you going to realize that you are?" I counter. She raises her hazel eyes to meet my gaze. "I wish you saw yourself the way I do."

Her mouth twists to the side in a wry, dry smile. She starts to speak, but the sound of a footfall cracking a twig causes us both to start.

Weeks on the run had turned us both into frightened, alert animals.

"Shh." Lyric holds a finger to her lips. Her other hand goes to the pocket of her dress. The metal glint of a blade catches the sunlight. "Where did you get that from?" I hiss.

"Rene," she mumbles. She moves onto her feet, crouching low. "You think the hunters followed us all the way here?"

I lick my dry lips, trying to think. "Maybe. If they're really good trackers."

Two birds take off into the sky at that moment, wings rustling, disturbing the branches, their nosy departure filling my ears. In the two seconds that it grabs my attention, Lyric disappears.

I should hide too. But my clumsy movements are made worse from the booze in my bloodstream.

"Someone there?" A man's voice demands.

My teeth grind together. The man steps through the same bushes Lyric had minutes ago and into my view.

What did that innkeeper give me? I know I asked for something strong, but he took it a little too far. I must be stone drunk. Maybe I'm even still at the bar counter, passed out, dreaming.

That's the only explanation for why I'm staring at my brother's face.

No one moves. Not even the stupid birds.

"Mason?" I rasp.

His blue eyes flash with as much relief as surprise. "Z-"

I don't think about Lyric until after she's pressing the blade into my brother's neck.

"Move and I'll slit your throat," she threatens. I mean I know she's not actually going to slit his throat, but if you don't know her then Lyric's threats can sound pretty deadly.

She stands with her chest pressed to his side, she's forced to balance on her tiptoes to squeeze the blade to the soft part of his throat.

"Lyric, no it's okay!"

Her glare snaps to me. "What do you mean, it's okay?"

Mason stiffens, I know he can easily knock her to the side, but he waits for me, looking confused by our interaction.

"He's okay, he's my brother."

"You're what?"

Mason moves, grabs Lyric's arm, bending it backward and shaking hard until she let's go of the blade. "Ow!"

"Don't hurt her," I shout without thinking.

Mason blinks. "She just tried to stab me, and I'm the one you're yelling at?"

I pull Lyric back, turning my focus on Mason. "Mason? That is you, right? I'm not crazy."

"No more than usual, little brother." He opens his arms and I ram into him like a little kid, throwing my arms around his shoulders. I have to fight back tears.

Mason, my older brother, is here out of nowhere. Being close to him makes me think of home; mother, even father, my old life. The reminder is bittersweet, but mostly bitter.

After what feels like forever we release one another and I rub at my eyes. "Um, uh." I make a show of clearing my throat. "What-what are you doing here? How did you find me?"

"It wasn't easy. You're a long way off from Nebraska, you do know that?"

A sharp jolt of guilt. I forgot. I was supposed to meet Mason in Lincoln, but instead I found Kaly. Then I followed Lyric to Iowa. I haven't thought about my brother in a while. It's crazy what girls will do to you.

"Yeah, about that-"

He holds up his hand. "Save it. I know you, remember? Obviously you would get distracted. So when you didn't show up in Lincoln and then I heard Kaly was in Newman, I found her and she told me where you were heading." A frown wrinkles his forehead. "I started tracking you, I guess I was about a day behind. But then you veered off course and crossed to Iowa. Why are you in Iowa?"

My gaze darts to Lyric. Did he notice? Mason raises his eyebrow.

"Uh, Mason this is Lyric. Lyric, this is my older brother."

If looks had power, Lyric and Mason would have set each other on fire. I haven't known many people to be able to stand up to Mason's withering glare, but he hasn't meet Lyric. He's also probably never had a slave girl stare at him with the kind of defiance Lyric is putting out.

"Okay." I step in between them in case another knife fight breaks out. "Maybe the introductions are a little tense right now."

Mason continues to hold Lyric's gaze. "Zeke, we don't have a lot of time. We need to talk. Now."

It's an invitation for Lyric to leave. I turn to her, touching her elbow. "Lyric," I talk to her softly. "Go back to the inn. I'm just going to talk to my brother."

She regards Mason with suspicion. But she pulls her gaze away from to look at me. The unspoken question in her eyes is clear. "Don't worry, he's not going to turn either of us in."

"...Okay." She turns away and starts back through the woods toward the inn.

I watch her leave, wondering if she'll even still be there when I go back. I turn around to see Mason staring at me, a perturbed expression etched on his face.

"What?"

"What are you doing with that girl?"

I'm ashamed that I want to lie. "Just a girl I meet on the road. She helped me get out of Kansas and I helped her."

Mason folds his arms against his chest. He leans back heavily on one leg. "You don't have something for her...do you?"

I let out a rush of air like he punched me in the gut. I could lie. But my lies never work on Mason. "...Is it that obvious?"

His arms drop to his side. His mouth opens, closes, opens again and just hangs there. He drags a hand down his face, pulling down at the corners of his chin. His eyes are shut when he finally speaks. "Zeke, how stupid are you trying to be?"

"Not that I haven't missed your superior contempt, but we haven't seen each other in weeks. Can we maybe skip the brotherly scorn?"

He backs off, but I can tell he's not done with the subject of Lyric. "I have good news for you."

I could use some of that. "What?"

"The man you killed, Billy Presley, was named as the one who attacked Alice Brye last year."

Alice Brye was a girl in the county over from my hometown. Everyone had heard about she had be attacked on her way home one night, but when she was too afraid to name the man the case had been dropped.

"Yeah, that's good. Now people know what a scum he was. What's that got to do with me?"

"Don't you get it?" Mason takes a step closer, looking half excited half frustrated by my stupidity. "He was the man who raped the mayor's daughter. You killed him, yeah, but like you said he was scum. I found a great lawyer for and with that against Presley then you should have a pretty good case for going free."

"Pretty good?"

"Hey, it's more than a chance than you thought you had when you were heading toward Canada or wherever you're going now." Mason shakes his head, running his hand through his hair in that agaited habit we both share. "It's hope. Mom needs that right now."

My throat goes thick and achy. Mom had been a constant on my mind. Her soft face taught with worry, bags under her eyes, slender fingers woven together in prayer.

"She's sick, Zeke."

My eyes snap up to Mason's. "What? What's wrong with her?"

"Stress, the doctor thinks. It's making her weak. It doesn't look good."

Fear and guilt boil together like a storm in the pit of my stomach. Mason doesn't come right out and say it's because of me, but I understand.

Tears burn the back of my eyes. Finding out I'm a murderer must have broken her heart. It would have broken any mother's heart.

"I bet Father hates me." It was supposed to remain a thought, I didn't mean to say it out loud.

Mason's eyebrows come together, he speaks slowly searching for the right combination of words. "He doesn't hate you, Zeke. He's upset of course. But mostly I think he's just worried about you."

I drag a finger under my left eye. "Him worried about me? I thought I was the bad liar of the family."

"Just come home, Zeke." He grips my shoulder. "We can figure things out. You don't have to run anymore. You can go home."

His words sound foreign. Go home? No more running, hiding, starving, or sleeping on the ground. I could be free. Maybe.

What about Lyric, a pathetic voice in my head questions. What about her, an angry voice asks back. She told you to leave, and now you are. Why do you still care about her?

I don't.

Lie, my brain responds. That's a lie. I know it is, following the second after a scream pierces the air from the direction of the inn.

There was no doubt that it was a lie, because the second after the scream I was tearing off into the woods, calling her name.

Why do I still care about her?

Because it's too late to stop.

~

 A/N: Only a few chapters left to go!