When the jet touched down in Los Angeles, I woke to a small shake of my shoulder. My eyes peeled open, my body stiff as I found Alexander holding out a cellphone.
“Take it,” he said.
“I have one.”
“This one dials out.” He dropped it to my lap and retreated to his seat. He looked…different. Pale. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. “I changed my mind about seeing him.”
My brow furrowed as I clutched the phone and stood, wearily stepping down the aisle toward the exit. “You’re letting me go alone?”
“I’m trusting you to come back,” he told me, his eyes wavering. “If you do, we’ll move forward. If you don’t, then I’ll release Creed from all contracts.”
My breath stuttered. “I thought you didn’t believe in trust.”
“You know what’s at stake,” he said and ran his hand through his hair, averting his gaze. “It’s not a threat, just the truth. I won’t be able to protect any of you if you choose to leave. Maybe you’ll get lucky, the four of you, and you’ll never be found. If you want to take that chance, then Arden, I wish you the best.”
“You’re…serious?”
“Yes,” he muttered, “whether you come back or not.”
My fingers clung to the phone. I didn’t answer. I didn’t know what to say. My gut instinct was to get Rafe, buy a ticket to Thorne and Kane, and find a place to lie low. But my heart faltered, chewing on my lip, absolutely torn. Creed wouldalwaysbe on the run if I chose to abandon Alexander, but if I stayed, it meant breaking Rafe’s heart. Rafe was never going to accept his new reality if he was still fighting to share it with me, and as badly as I wanted that, I also didn’t think I could stomach being that kind of selfish. Rafe would understand. I had to believe that he would.
As much as I hate saying it aloud: I needed Viktor and Halden dead more than I needed love. At that point, all I could see, want, or feel was justice.Myjustice. Love didn’t feel like something I deserved unless I was accepting it atop the grave of my past.
The driver took me through heavy traffic to a polished apartment building. A man opened the door, and my attention snagged immediately. He was tall, broad-shouldered, dark hair falling into his eyes like he didn’t bother taming it. A brutal scar split through one side of his face, scraping pale through his thick brow, down his eyelid and cheek, before it ended at his chin. Then I saw his eyes and froze. One dark. One light. The same wrongness I carried every time I caught my reflection.
He grimaced when he noticed me staring. “What do you want?”
“You’re Matthias?”
Faint recognition crossed his features. “Right. The pyro.” He turned on his heel, leaving the door slightly ajar. “This way.”
I glared at his back as I stepped inside, my hackles rising at the sight of a familiar gas mask settled on the entryway table. I let the door fall shut behind me. He didn’t bother with any further introduction, and I picked up my pace, taking in the space. He led me down a black and white checkered hallway, art and beautiful sculptures littered throughout. We took a set of red-carpeted stairs, and I looked out past a sparkling chandelier. Though it had looked like an apartment complex from the outside, all the walls and rooms must’ve been taken down to make an open downstairs. Smart on Alexander’s part. Anyone looking at that place would’ve thought students lived there, not billionaires.
Upstairs, the same wealth continued, and my stomach clenched. Wealth never meant freedom or safety to Creed, and I knew that Rafe was alone there, somewhere, confused and angry. Matthias confirmed as much as we neared a pair of french doors reinforced withsteeland locks.
“It’s not usually for us,” he said, seeing my wary expression. “It’s where we keep our extra cache of money and weapons, but it was the safest place to keep your friend until he calmed down.Alexander told me to take him to the basement, but I thought that would just make it worse.”
He went to unlock the door, but his words tightened around me.Did he say weapons?“Wait. Don’t—” I started but the door swung open and the rest of the sentence died in my throat, shock hitting me so hard it felt like vertigo. Instead of the familiar violence I’d braced myself for, there was…light. Fairy lights strung in careful arcs across a wide terrace that overlooked the city, candles flickering along a small table set for two, and there, standing at the center of it all was Rafe, dressed in a dark suit, hair neatly combed back, flowers held awkwardly in his hands.
Matthias left us without a word, the doors clicking shut faintly behind me. I was stock still, unable to process what was happening, and Rafe didn’t quite seem like he could either. He stood there with the flowers clenched in his hands, his eyes fixed on me unblinking as if he thought doing so would mean I’d vanish again. The city glowed behind him, the fairy lights casting soft halos across his face, and for a long, suspended moment neither of us moved.
Then he broke.
The flowers slipped from his hands and hit the ground between us, petals scattering softly as he crossed the space in quick, decisive strides, stopping just close enough that I could feel the heat of him without the press of his body, his hands lifting and hovering for a fractured second. His eyes searched my face with a raw, almost frightened intensity before he finally touched me, careful and grounding, his palms settling at my waist as if anchoring himself there. Then his hands closed around me hard, almost painfully, pulling me against him with a force that stole my breath. His forehead pressed into my shoulder.
I wrapped my arms around him and held on. I felt his heart hammering against my chest, felt the way he clutched at the backof my jacket. I breathed him in, and for the first time in weeks, love flooded through me so hard my knees threatened to buckle. I pressed my face into his shoulder with a sob. I could feel both of us shaking. Small, uncontrollable tremors that come when your body is trying to keep something from breaking apart. He pulled back just enough to look at me, his hands still locked around me, his eyes frantic, searching, like he was checking for wounds. When he saw none, he tucked me close again, pressing a trembling kiss to my forehead.
I sagged forward, like the moment his mouth touched my skin something inside me finally gave away. My knees softened, my weight settling into him, and he adjusted instantly, arms tightening around me, holding me up like he always had. My heart was loud between us, frantic and unsteady, and I could feel his matching it. Then his mouth moved. Just barely. A slow drag from my forehead to my dented temple. My breath caught, my pulse skidding hard, my hands curling into his jacket. He kept descending, wrecking me, kissing down toward the corner of my eye where tears clung, then my cheek, each press of his mouth gentle, stitching me back together.
I lifted onto my toes just to stay close, just to keep him there. My hand came up on its own, cupping the back of his neck, fingers sliding into his hair, the strands having grown out a bit. He shuddered at the touch, and I pulled him down. We crashed into each other, his mouth taking mine in equal desperation. I kissed him fiercely, my hands fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer. My eyes squeezed shut, my heart stuttering as his mouth deepened the kiss, his body driving me back against the cold steel of the patio’s reinforced doors. He made a sound against my mouth, something broken and relieved and aching all at once, before he drew back. He let me go with reluctance, lifting his hands and his eyes red-rimmed.I am so sorry, he said.
I shook my head, confused.Sorry?
I never should’ve let you go into the rest area alone.
No. I shook my head harder and cupped his face, running my thumbs over his cheeks. His eyes fluttered close for a second, a hard exhale leaving him at my touch. Then he met my gaze again, still filled with guilt.I’m okay, see?I managed a wobbling smile.
He lifted a hand.And now so am I, he signed before bringing me close again, his forehead tucking against mine. His throat worked.They gave us a few hours.
