I put extra muscle into my strokes, as though I can glide over her words, hating her, hating this. I’m in utter control of her out here, so why do I feel so helpless? I want to fuck her again so badly, I can’t think straight.
“Don’t worry, I’m not planning on running off and stepping in another wasp nest if that’s what you’re worried about.”
In truth, I’m worried about everything.
“But I am going to leave. And I’m going to find out your story—not your forest story—that’s yours, and I won’t invade it. But Kiro, your story with the mafia. What the fuck. I can’t stop thinking about it. No matter how deep we go, I feel like it’s dangerous. Have you ever heard the saying ‘you can’t run forever’?”
I sigh, weary of the story talk.
“I get it, you don’t trust me quite yet. But you should trust my journalistic instincts. I wish you knew I only ever wanted to help you.”
The emotion in her hits me. She really wants me to believe it.
“Anyways, the point is, you don’t have your power until you know your story. More knowledge is always best. More light is always safer. If I were you, I’d do anything to understand what the fuck was happening.”
“Knowing my story won’t stop them from hunting me. My story isn’t the reason—”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. They hunt you because you’re different.” Her eyes shine. “It’s such total fuckingbullshit.”
Her ferocity takes my breath away.
“You are being hunted, and you have no idea why. I know you think it’s because you’re different, but trust me—you’re wrong.”
She sounds so sure of herself. I love her like this. “So you say.”
“So I know! They know your name from before you were adopted—this name of yours. Kiro. Why do they need to kill you so badly? I can’t believe it’s not driving you crazy. Because it’s definitely driving me crazy.”
The moon has risen, a circle in the sky, a pale, shimmering splotch on the water.
“I get that you hate that I’m a journalist, but guess what? I know when there’s something big. I have instincts. I can’t recognize one pile of rocks from another—it’s true. But you don’t know shit about stories. Light is better than darkness. Knowledge is better than ignorance. It’s true for you just like it’s true for everyone else. You think you’re so fucking different.”
“You don’t understand. You can’t understand unless you’re me.”
“Ugh!” She flops back, frustrated. I want to kiss her, but I think she wouldn’t like it right now.
We enter a narrow stretch of river. Familiar bird sounds echo in the trees—night birds, starting to hunt. The terrain rolls out like a map in my heart.
I close my eyes and imagine the howls of my pack, each voice utterly distinct. I imagine the relief of hearing them and calling back. I imagine falling into them.
My heart hammers. Even Ann wants to get away from me, but Red never wanted to get away. Snowy never wanted to get away.
“Why did the wasps go after me?” she asks after a while.
“Because you stepped on their hive. You became a threat,” I explain, surprised she doesn’t understand something so obvious.
“Maybe they attacked me because I’m a human.”
“They would only bother to attack you if they saw you as a threat.”
“Maybe they didn’t like me because I’m different.”
I growl. The professor used to do what she’s doing—questions and answers designed to teach me things. “Talk to me normal, or don’t talk to me at all.”
“You need to ask the question, Kiro. Why are you a threat to the mob? You’re clearly not after them, so why is your very existence a threat?”
I push us on forward. There was an island near here. Always so much better to stop on an island for the night. I’m hard already thinking about her.
“You have to ask the right questions to get the story.”