“No.” I shake my head, though the bulky headgear makes the movement more clunky than intended. “You can’t just make your wife a widow because you don’t want the death of your ex-wife weighing on your conscience.”
“That’s the thing, though. None of us have to die. Not if we use this,” he says cryptically, thumping a hand against the large pouch looped around his waist.
“You can’t know that.”
There’s no telling what weapon he’s got in there, but how can itguarantee that all eleven of us will make it out of this Hunt unscathed?
Gabe moves closer, voice lowering. “Trust me, Elle. This will work.”
“What if it doesn’t?” I step forward, contemplating whether I’d be fast enough to snatch that helmet out of his hands, plop it back on his head, and send him on his merry way back to safety.
“It will,” he insists.
“But what if it doesn’t?” I repeat, voice thick with a plea for him to understand what’s truly at stake if his secret plan doesn’t pan out as expected.
Gabe’s throat bobs as he lessens more of the distance between us. “Ifit doesn’t, then my boys will know their father died with honor.” His deep blue eyes dip to my own, and I know he’s now speaking to me instead of the camera. “And I could only hope they’d be willing to do the same for the women they love.”
For the first time since I’ve put it on, I’m grateful for the helmet, if only for its ability to disguise the emotions on my face. Like how his confession widens my eyes and tugs at the corners of my lips, only for the near smile to crumble a second later. He chose to throw what we had away, to ignore me for ten years, despite his so-called “love” for me.
I need him to believe my next words. Needmyselfto believe them.
“I don’t want you here, Gabe. There’s nothing you could ever do that would atone for what you did. Your honor died a long time ago, along with any love between us. Out here,” I say, swinging my arms out at the surrounding dunes and overcast sky, “there’s no room for cowards or distractions. So, leave your secret little weapon with us, if you must, and go back home while you still can.”
Gabe smiles.
Smiles.
My arms shake as I stave off the urge to clench my fists.
His eyes move lower, catching the movement. “You gave yourself away earlier, you know. In your interview with Coraline. What you said about Gem . . . If you really didn’t care about me, it wouldn’t matter to you if I stayed. The fact that you’re trying this hard to get me to leave?—”
“Stop,” I say, but he talks over me.
“—tells me you do care. You care a lot.”
Gabe lifts a hand towards my helmet.
What’s he going to do? Rip it off? Forsake his vows to his current wife for the sake of resuscitating ours? It would be a lie to say I haven’t dreamt of this—or something like this, minus the hostile environment and shit timing. But those dreams faded years ago.
“Don’t,” I breathe, stepping back.
But Gabe’s not ready to let me get away. He shifts forward.
“Stop it, Gabe.”
A hand comes between us, but it isn’t Gabe’s or mine. I know from the charged energy alone that it’s Kalden.
“She said stop,” he warns, spreading his palm against Gabe’s chest.
Gabe’s deep blue eyes narrow as he peers down at the hand, then between Kalden and me.
“Your chivalry is admirable, but unnecessary,” Gabe says while brushing aside Kalden’s hand and taking a few steps back. “I would never hurt Elle.”
“Sounds like you already have,” Kalden counters.
Gabe holds up his palms. “Fair enough, but I’m here to prove it won’t happen again.”
Kalden stands silent for several seconds, and I get the sense those molten irises of his are assessing my ex-husband. Finally, he says, “Get your helmet on, then. Let’s head out.”
