Chapter Fifteen.

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"I can't believe it." I shake my head.

Letting them go?

The thought had never crossed my mind. When I heard the rumors, and then saw him down there myself it had just been so easy to believe the worst of him. And it isn't like he's given me much reason since being here to think anything nice of him.

Letting them go. He rescues them. Those poor people who have no hope to live for, he saves their lives and let's everyone else believe he's an awful person at the same time.

I just stare at him, looking at him through all new eyes now.

"Why?" I finally whisper.

Dalton snaps his head back up and rolls his eyes at me.

"What do you mean, why?" He grumbles, rubbing his arm almost like he's a little embarrassed, why I don't know. "What was the first thought through your mind when you saw them down there?" He asks and I know what he means.

I nod once. "I wanted to be able to set them all free."

"Exactly." He shrugs. "So I do."

"But it's illegal."

He nods his head, looking over at the opposite side of the room from me. "Which is exactly why no one can ever know the truth. I'd be executed on the spot for crimes against the crown. That's why I keep it a secret and let anyone else spread whatever rumor they want."

I walk over to him, not even meaning to and stop right in front of him, looking up into his eyes until he finally meets them. "I would never tell anyone, Dalton." I promise. "You can trust me."

"I know." His words surprise me, and maybe even him.

We both look away nervously.

"How long?" I say and he glances back down at me. "How long have you been doing it?"

His tongue sweeps across his bottom lip and he frown. "Years. Since I got out." He tells me dismissively, clearly uncomfortable talking about any of this.

"Got out?" I furrow my brow. "Get out of where?"

He glares down at me suddenly, like he's angry that I'm making him spell it out for me, but then his expression softens and he looks just as confused as me. "You don't know?" He asks and I shake my head, lifting my shoulders a little. He shakes his head in confusion. "But I thought you...saw."

I purse my lips and blink slowly, momentarily recalling the awful visions of him as a little kids. Those big sad eyes. "I saw you in an orphanage, and the woman who took you." I tell him quietly and he flinches from my words. "And I saw you get jumped by those guys who turned you."

Dalton's eyes shadow over and he walks away from me.

"I guess I assumed you saw everything, and that Pedro would have told you anything else." His voice is a soft murmur. So different from his uniformed brisk tone he usually saves for me, and everyone else for that matter.

"No." I tell him, walking over to him again where he stands by my bed. "I only saw snippets of things and Pedro isn't the type to tell stories that aren't his to share."

"Regardless," He sighs. "It's the past. It doesn't matter anymore." He lowers himself to sit on the foot of the bed, his shoulders slumped forward, breaking his rigid stance.

Slowly I slide up next to him, sitting where our shoulders touch and lean forward to look at him. "It looks like it still matters to you." I whisper. "Please tell me?"

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