“I need to give you something,” I said, the words tumbling out too fast. “Just—take it.”
Ricky frowned, confused, until I pushed the envelope into his hands. He opened it, peeled back the flap, and went still. His eyes shot to mine.
“The hell?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It’s a lot of cash.”
“I know.”
His voice dropped. “Is this from Cole?”
A wild, humorless sound escaped me—something like a laugh if a laugh could be broken in half. I forced myself onward. “You need to move. Get your family out. Somewhere safer. Don’t ask questions. Please, Ricky—just take it.”
He stared at the envelope as if it were something dangerous. “Phoenix, this is too much. We can’t accept this.”
“You can,” I said, voice fraying. “And you will. Please.”
He looked at the cash again, then back at me, his face softening. “Before you try to push this at me again, you need to hear something.”
“I don’t care—”
“You do,” he said gently. “So listen.”
I dragged my hands over my face, exhausted. “Ricky, I really can’t—”
“Sarah’s grandma died,” he said quietly. “She passed last week. She left her house to us.”
It took a second for the words to sink in. “Her…house?”
“Paid off,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “Two acres. Out in Park County. Five bedrooms. Sarah hasn’t stopped crying since we got the call. There's a job for me, but we won't even need to worry about Sarah working while Liam's small."
Something small and wounded clawed up from my chest.
“We’re moving next week,” Ricky added. “I was going to call you today after work. You don’t need to save us. We’re already okay.”
The floor tilted—actually tilted—and I reached blindly for the counter, catching the edge to keep myself upright. Ricky stepped forward quickly.
“Phoenix? Hey—what’s going on?”
“I didn’t need…” The words scraped out of me. “I didn’t need to take the money.”
Ricky’s eyes widened with dawning horror. “This isn't from Cole?”
“I didn’t hurt anyone.” My voice cracked open completely. Tears blurred my vision before I could stop them. “I didn’t steal. Someone offered…and he said your family—he said if I didn’t—”
“Someone threatened my family?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I whispered. My hands shook violently. “It doesn’t matter because you’re safe. You’re safe, and I didn’t—God, Ricky—I didn’t need to take it. I didn’t need to do anything he asked. You were already safe. You were already—”
“Phoenix.” He appeared in front of me, gripping my shoulders to steady my shaking. “Tell me what’s going on. Right now.”
But I couldn’t.
Every word hurt. Every breath burned. Every thought spiraled back to the same image—Cole’s face going cold, his voice breaking as he said:
You let me think you chose me.
