He pulls back, gives me a grin, and slides off of me, lying at my side. He links his fingers through mine, brings my palm to his lips. I watch the quick rise and fall of his chest, watch his profile, so handsome and familiar, the inscrutable mischief and fervor of that smile.
Four.
Things to live for. Things to fight for. Things to wait for.
This life, and all of us, together.
“So,” I say, rolling onto my stomach and smiling up at him. “Are we starting fresh?”
“No, baby.” He touches two fingers to my lips. His eyes are twin infernos. “We’re picking up where we left off.”
And somehow, after everything—that’s exactly what I want to hear.
11
Liam
“Isaw it, you know,” I say.
Margot is leaning back in her chair, sunbathing in the grapefruit-pink dregs of the day. She pulls her arm off her eyes and sits up, glaring at me like a cat woken from its nap. “Hm?”
“Your wolf.”
“Shut the fuck up. No you didn’t.”
“Did. At Lexie’s that night.” I don’t miss the grave flicker in her eye—we don’t talk about that night much. Court dates and interrogations and investigations have all subsided, seeped away and out of our life. It’s been months, and finally we’re free.
But still, sometimes, I catch Margot flinching at a door closing too hard or the faraway squeal of tires. When I got my license, I took Dad’s gun safe out of the house. But beneath her fear—at the act of killing or at her capacity to do it—there’s something else that snags in Margot’s voice sometimes, and I realize it’s pride, or steel, something good that came with the bad. She saved us, and she knows it, and we’ll never forget. I hope that makes the grief worth it.
“Well, fuck me,” Margot mutters, shaking her head. “Well? Was it a coyote after all?”
I give her a grin. “Nope.”
“Shut up,” she says again, but now there’s light in her eyes and she sits up straight. “I knew it.”
“You did.”
She smirks, drooping back in her chair with a contented sigh. Moths dance in the shadows at the edge of the property, their flitting fleeting wings catching the last of the day’s light. “I’m not mad, you know.”
I look at her, and she looks back at me. “Yeah?”
“No. I mean, I’m still mad you didn’t tell me about you guys back then, but…” She tips back her chin, eyeing the purpling sky, the first dust of stars glittering behind the house. “But I’d rather have you both back, like this, than neither of you. And the girls…” She trails off, eyes bright. “I love them, and I love that I have them. But I wish, you know, that Dad could have met them.”
“Me, too.” I reach for her, grip her hand, and she gives me a wan smile. “Margot. Thank you.”
“You’ve thanked me enough.” But I can tell it pleases her to hear it again, and I’ll tell her in all of our years to come if it will make her happy, if it will ease the guilt or the fear or the trauma of that night, even a little, even for a minute. “Oh, hey. She’s here.”
The slider opens and Lexie comes out, dressed for work—she stayed late, she’s been picking up more work these days, Liza deciding to trust her with higher-profile work after all—and she looks exhausted. Blonde curls in her eyes, flowy blouse a bit wrinkled. But there’s a shimmer of light around her, electricity and life humming off her skin. She loves the business, loves the purpose of it all. She’s a daring girl once more, risk turning to confidence and shining through her skin. No wonder Connor wanted to keep her on—I can’t blame him.
“Hi!” She bends to kiss my cheek, placing a bottle of white wine on the table between me and Margot. “Sorry I’m late.”
“No worries.” Margot catches Lexie’s hand and gives it a squeeze. They’re back to themselves these days, to knowing pointed looks that communicate without words, and hushed conversations at the edges of rooms that devolve into private, hysterical laughter. “Liza?”
“Ramsay.” Lexie casts her eyes skyward and settles onto my lap, sliding her arm around my shoulders and tracing the back of my neck with deft, cool fingers.
“Again?” I wrap my arm around her waist, settle one hand on her knee. “You know what? That guy really can’t take a hint, can he? I think it’s time I—”
“No. I can handle it.” Lexie gives me a sharp smile. “Besides, he’s harmless. He’s even given up trying to get me to leave you.”
