“I’m going. I can’t stay here. I need to think and I need time alone.”
Pride and anger war within me, hot and reckless. Could she not see why I did it? Could she not feel how deeply I love her? “Do what you wish,” I say, fighting the tremor in my voice. “I’m not Romero. I won’t keep you here against your will. If you wish to leave, you may.”
She freezes, staring at me as though she expected something entirely different. Maybe she did. Her eyes fill with tears, and she brushes them away angrily when they fall over her cheeks. “How can you be so calm?” she cries.
I rub my jaw, trying not to break. “I’ve killed before, Briar. Many men. For my father. Killing Romero wasn’t hard. I’m indifferent to it. And I know that’s hard to hear. I know you once loved him. You may even mourn the man he pretended to be.”
Her face crumples. “I don’t mourn him,” she says fiercely. “I mourn what I thought life could be here…between us.”
I take a long breath. “The difference between me and Romero is that I truly love you. That instead of hurting you, I chose to protect you. Love you as you deserve. I won’t apologize for doing what I must to keep you safe.” She watches, silent and unsure. “He would’ve killed you,” I add. “And in the end he would’ve killed me or one of my brothers out of spite. I couldn’t allow that.” I step back, giving her the space she clearly wants. “If you can’t find it in your heart to forgive me, then you should leave. I don’t want you to look at me with fear or distrust. If that is to be my future with you, I would rather not have it.”
The words taste like acid. But they are the truth.
She picks up her bag, swipes her phone off the bed, and brushes past me.
I don’t move. I stand in the bedroom staring at the space she once occupied. The silence she leaves behind is louder than any gunshot. She’s angry. She’s hurt. She just needs time. She’ll come around. I have to trust that she will. I have to trust that she loves me as I love her. Even though she has not yet said the words.
God help me if I lose her.
TWENTY-SIX
BRIAR
Stacy’s apartmentfeels like the only place I can go. I haven’t called first. I probably should have. My brain is too muddled and my chest too tight, and before I know it I’m standing outside her door with my small bag in my hand, my heart pounding. I knock. My knuckles shake against the wood.
Stacy opens almost immediately, like she’s been waiting.
“Briar.” Her eyes widen. She takes in the bag, my red eyes, the tension in my shoulders. “Oh God, come in.”
She pulls me inside and shuts the door behind me. The familiar smell of her place wraps around me. Coffee, vanilla, a faint hint of her perfume. Safe. Warm. I put my bag down and try to keep my composure, but it’s useless. The moment the lock clicks, the tears come.
She doesn’t say anything at first. She just pulls me into a hug and holds on like she has no intention of letting go. My face is pressed to her shoulder. I smell laundry powder and home.
“Tell me,” she says softly.
“I can’t,” I choke. “You’ll hate me. Or him. Or both of us.”
“I already hate Matteo so why not add another to the mix?” she teases, trying to lighten the mood. “Come, sit down.”
We move to her sofa. I sink into the cushions, dragging a decorative cushion onto my lap to hold. Stacy folds her legs under herself and watches me calmly. Her unruffled self is the only thing keeping me from shattering completely.
“I need you to promise something first,” I say, my voice small. “You have to swear you won’t tell anyone. Not your friends. Not anyone you work with. No family, no one.”
Curiosity swims in Stacy’s gaze. “Okay. I swear. On my coffee, and you know how serious I take that.”
“I’m serious, Stace.”
Her face softens. “I know. I promise. I won’t tell anyone.”
I draw in a breath that feels like it scrapes my lungs on the way in. “Lucien killed Matteo.”
The words fall between us and seem to sit there, heavy and solid and awful. Stacy doesn’t gasp. She doesn’t flinch. She exhales, long and slow, and nods once.
“I figured,” she says.
I blink. “Youfigured?” What? How could she figure such a thing? What did she know that I didn’t?
“Yes. Matteo turns up dead in an alley after threatening you, Lucien goes quiet and more intense than usual, and the Moretti brothers all start showing up at the office. I’m an accountant, not an idiot.”
