“Which I did.”
“No points from me,” I said. “Indirectly, you’re the reason I had to leave my house for the first time a year and a half ago.”
He nodded. “I know.”
“How?” I asked. “Did you read someone’s mind?”
“No, I was there,” he said, never looking away from my eyes. If you’ve ever seen creepy stalker eyes, that was the vibe I was getting right then. “I was there in the parking lot of the supermarket when Wolfe grabbed you. Weissman and I jumped out to help. He touched my skin—”
“And you partially drained him,” I said and felt my stomach turn in disgust that I hoped was well hidden. “I should have known that a dart wouldn’t do squat to him.” I pictured the first time I’d seen Sovereign as Joshua Harding. “No wonder you looked so familiar.”
“I’ve been watching out for you since the beginning,” he said, leaning toward me. The stalker eyes were just a little self-aware, just a little more cunning than I would have hoped for. “I’ve done everything I could to try and organize things right, but I’ve made serious mistakes even so. Siding with Weissman was disastrous. Going with his plan was horrible. Reprehensible. I wanted the world to be a better, brighter place, somewhere that someone like you didn’t get abused by the people who were supposed to protect you.” He paused. “See, I know how it feels when a parent torments you. How it is when the person who is supposed to love and care for you turns on you, the harm it can do—”
“Yeah, I heard about your mom in your head,” I said, cutting him off. I was keeping myself as cold and aloof as I could manage. And I could manage a lot.
“She couldn’t hurt me physically,” he said, never looking away from me, “but she did everything she could to break me mentally.”
I looked at him without looking him in the eyes. It’s not like I was afraid I’d fall into him or something, metaphorically speaking. I just didn’t want to look him in the eye. “I can’t imagine what that would be like.”
“Probably like having Wolfe in your head,” he said with some humor. “Maybe a touch less horrific.” He paused. “Except in the teenage years. That was awkward.”
I couldn’t help but give him the disgusted look for the overshare. I tried to rein it in, but there are limits to how much yuck I could take. “Ugh,” I said.
“I’m sorry,” he said and dropped from the chair to his knees in front of me. I looked up at him and must have had another WTF look on my face, because he held out both hands. “Relax, I’m not about to propose marriage or anything.”
“Good, because the answer would be ‘no’ followed by a punch to the face for you.” That came out reflexively.
“I know you don’t know me,” he said. “And … if I’m right … you probably still don’t want to know me. But I’m also guessing you see the weight of what’s chasing you right now and you’re more than a little afraid.
I stared back at him, not saying anything.
“That’s okay,” he said. “I’d be scared, too. You poured your life into stopping me, into stopping all the bad guys that crossed your path, and you’ve done a damned fine job of it. I mean, you killed the top one hundred strongest metas still alive. That’s … that’s pretty big. And you did it in service of a government that’s … uh … well, they’re turning on you. No easy way to say it.”
I kept looking at him, waiting to see if he’d get to the point.
“I don’t think you want to suffer for your crimes,” he said flatly. “Do you?”
“What I want doesn’t matter,” I said. My voice sounded weak to my ears, filled with the tiredness that had settled in on me in the last hour or so. Maybe it even went back further than that, to the explosion. I felt it, though, and a kind of weariness that reminded me of what I’d heard about runners in mile twenty of a marathon—the mile where most of them quit because all the hope was gone.
“You don’t want to suffer for this,” he said, voice tinged with sorrow. “Your friends are leaving, getting away because you wanted them to. You wanted them to be safe, to not suffer like this. Why didn’t you go with them?”
“Because,” I said, almost whispering, “I have to deal with you.”
There was a flicker of emotion behind his eyes. “Fair enough. You have to deal with me.” He spread his arms. “Here I am. I am your prisoner. But do you really think they’ll let you watch over me if you’re in jail?”