The Runner (Part I of the Runner Series)

Chapter 9

I awake uncomfortably the next morning, feeling too warm with Lara's arm draped across my chest. I groan and slide out from under her, tiptoeing across the room and pulling my cleanest tunic on over my head. I am attempting to tie my hair back with a length of leather when I hear a soft sound. Lara has her head propped up with her arm on the mattress, regarding me.

"Off so early?" she mumbles sleepily, rubbing her eyes.

I walk back to the bed, sinking down next to her and handing over the strip of leather. She takes it from me and sits up, gently working my hair free of knots with her fingers.

"It isn't that early," I tease, "For those of us not accustomed to staying out all night."

"I suppose I'll have to get used to it." She yawns. "Gods, Kay, when was the last time you brushed this mess? You could have a whole colony living in here, for all you know."

"I've been busy."

"A lady is never too busy for a basic beauty routine," she scolds.

"Stop." I sigh. "You're starting to sound just like him."

"Like who?"

I bite my lip, unsure of what I should reveal to her.

"Ahh, yes." She reads my silence. "Your mysterious rebel. What's he like? He sounds handsome."

I laugh. "How can anyone sound handsome?"

"He's rich, isn't he? There is a recipe for attractiveness, if I've ever heard one." She's managed to separate my hair into three sections and is plaiting them together.

"If you think extreme seriousness and arrogance is attractive, then I'm sure you'd love him." I think of Will's squared jaw and thick brows. I suppose some people would consider him good-looking.

"And what else?" she asks.

"What do you mean?"

"Tell me more about him!"

"I don't know." I shift uncomfortably. "He's tall, he used to be a soldier. He's extremely controlling and thinks that he knows everything." I roll my eyes to the ceiling, pre-emptively annoyed at the thought of having to deal with Will's condescending attitude today.

"Sounds like a real piece of work." Lara finishes braiding my hair and ties it off, draping the end over my shoulder.

She watches me from the bed as I rise to fetch my belt. I affix it around my waist, grinning fondly at the sight of her with her brassy locks still messy from sleep.

I secure my knife and pouch in place and go to the window. "I'll see you later."

She offers me a small wave as I step outside and lift myself onto the roof. I have decided to forgo grabbing food at the market today, figuring I can eat whatever Will has lying around.

I make excellent time moving toward the centre of the City. The thought of Lara safe and secure in my bed with enough coins to keep us both fed inspires lightness in my limbs and I clear the alleyways effortlessly. In less than ten minutes, I land on the roof of Will's flat, taking a moment to stretch my arms over my head, basking in the warmth of the morning sun. I walk to the side of the building and lower myself down to the window, sticking my head inside in time to see Will cross in front of me, shirtless, rubbing his damp head with a towel.

I catch sight of his back and nearly choke on my inhale.

The taut skin is riddled with dozens of ugly, jagged scars. Some look years old and others are newer, standing out brightly from his tan. The marks stretch from his shoulders down the length of his back, disappearing into the waistband of his trousers.