Page 62 of Escape from the Green

We.

That felt right.

It was a silly thought.

And one I clearly was on my own with.

Because Drake's arm lifted suddenly, making me all-too-aware of the weight that had been there, leaving me feeling too light, something I didn't know was possible.

We walked in silence except for me to suggest the train over the ferry, saving us a little time.

Everyone stiffened at the idea of being around all that steel, but with time being of utmost importance, everyone agreed, following me through the inner workings of Pennsylvania Station, putting me in the unlikely position of being the guide, the one with the know-how, the street smarts.

I found I liked it, even if it would be fleeting.

"Nope," Smoky said, slamming the flat of her palm into Drake's chest when he went to take the empty seat beside me. "The girls want to talk," she told him, catching me off-guard. Smoky didn't exactly seem like the chatty sort. "Don't go puffing your chest at me. I promise to keep her safe, you overprotective brute," she told him. "And if I fail, you are all of three feet away," she told him, waving to empty seats two rows back and across from us.

Once the guys moved away - albeit somewhat reluctantly - Smoky dropped down, putting all her bags to the seat near the window.

Undeniably intimidated, I lowered myself down near the window across from her, putting my bag near the aisle.

"So, you're the one worth crossing over into this hellhole of a realm," she started, head tilted.

"Hellhole is a bit of a stretch," I defended my very temporary home.

"It smells of piss and sweat and festering garbage," she challenged.

And, well, there wasn't much I could say to counter that. Especially in the summer anyway.

"What makes you so special?" she asked, no malice in her voice, pure curiosity. Clearly being someone used to being on her own, she didn't quite know how to approach things without being the slightest bit too blunt, borderline offensive.

"Nothing," I said, shrugging. "I am just... easily usable, I guess," I admitted, feeling the words sting a bit, not exactly proud of that reality.

"So, that's it," she said, shaking her head. "The sweet, innocent bit," she concluded. "That's a thing, I hear. Gets the menfolk all hot and bothered, makes them feel needed and shit."

I couldn't disagree with her. I could see it that way. I was innocent in many ways. And perhaps too sweet at times. And from what I could tell from all the human shows and books I had seen and read, men absolutely enjoyed their damsels in distress.

But I didn't want to be seen as someone who always needed saving.

I had saved myself, damnit.

And I had saved Drake too.

"He thinks he owes me," I told her, looking out the window as the train lurched to life. "That's why he came for me. Because I let him go. Gave him the chance to be able to live out his life by his own terms. He wants the same for me."

"Except you can't have that. Not the way you want to have it." I didn't argue with her. She wasn't wrong. "In the human realm, are women always the pawns to the will of men?" she asked, voice cautious.

"In some ways, for some women, I guess. But in many places - most places - women aren't seen as a commodity. Your family doesn't get to force you into marriage. You can make your own decisions. For the most part, anyway. In this point in their timeline. In the area of their world that I was living."

"Funny how most fae looked down on humans, consider them base and backward."

"They can be," I allowed, shrugging it off. "But I think, as a whole, they are good. I don't know if I feel the same way about most fae these days. Who slaughters an entire family just to steal a letter?"

"Makes you think..." Smoky started, then cut off cryptically.

"Think what?"

Her gaze slid to me, eyes cold, as cool as her tone when she spoke again. "What he would do to you if he got his hands on you."