“You used me to boost your career, which you’re going to build off the destruction of mine. What are you going to do with the money?”
My heart feels like it’s breaking and I can’t seem to put words together.
“What are you going to do with the money, Freddie?” His voice drops a note lower, more threatening. It raises the hair on the back of my neck.
“I was going to make movies with it. But I told you, Mattias, I’m not going to take the money anymore. I’m sorry,” I reach for him, but he steps away. “I’m so sorry.” Tears stream down my cheeks, my throat so thick I can barely swallow.
“I don’t believe you.” He gives me a long, rueful look. “I think you’re just sorry you got caught.”
“That’s not true,” I gasp. “I was going to tell you.”
“When? Because to me, it looks like the deal’s already been inked.”
“I—”
“Fuck!” He rakes in sharp breath, dragging his hand through his hair again. “I can’t fucking believe you.” He shakes his head.
“Mattias.” I reach for his arm but he jerks it away.
“How could you do this to us?” There’s a desperation in his voice—hurt showing through the cracks in his fury. “How could you do this to me?” he whispers.
I don’t have an answer for him.
“We’re done.” When my lips fail to form around words, he looks at me like I’m nothing more than a cockroach, and it shatters me into a million pieces. How cruel it is to think just days ago, he was housing me. Clothing me. Feeding me. Caring for me like I mattered to him.
He turns on his heel and starts to walk away.
“Mattias,” I choke out. Then, more insistent, I shout his name. “Mattias!”
He stops in his tracks, his shoulders rigid.
“You can’t tell the team,” I say breathlessly. “It’ll kill them.”
He casts me one last, lingering look over his shoulder, then disappears up the hill.
Chapter 46
Freddie
A hole’s been punched through my chest. I thought I knew what emptiness was, but a new chasm’s opened inside of me, swallowing everything I thought I knew about myself. How do I move on from this? What’s left to salvage?
How do I fix it?
I don’t know if I can.
I walk to the water’s edge and wade into the frigid waves, not bothering to remove my shoes. The cold bites my skin, but I hardly feel it. I’m too gutted to feel anything but a dull, hollow ache. Then, the tears come.
Standing there on the beach with the cold nipping at my skin, I cry until I’m completely and utterly drained. It’s all too much. There’s too muchme, like I’m one bigHuman Centipedeof error, and I’m forced to keep living in this body. There’s no stitching things together again.
I want to crawl out of my skin.
I know this was my choice. I’m not a victim in this story. This agony, this regret—it’s all a byproduct of my own selfish, short-sighted choices, and there’s no more running from that. I just didn’t think I would be soshattered when it all caught up with me. I thought I’d at least go down with a fight, but I lost before the fight even started.
I’m not the final girl I thought I was. I’m fucking Renfield fromDracula, a study in human weakness. An accomplice who let the monsters in. I thought if I did as they asked—my father, my mother, even Elle—that they’d one day reward me with praise. That they’d just love me, let me be me, not try to shape me into something I’m not. Instead, all I’ve received for appeasing them is a gaping mortal wound.
I’ve lost myself, and I’ve lost Mattias, even though he was never mine to lose.
I crumple into the sand, bringing my knees to my face, letting the cold water soak through to my toes.
