“No. No, it wasn’t.”
“How can you say that?” I’m actually kind of disappointed in him. He’s been straightforward since he found me in the room where Dad was holding me. “I can’t have it both ways, can I? Getting an education or being trapped in a marriage to a stranger—in Italy,” I add, and I shiver at the thought.
He stares at me, unblinking, like he’s willing me to understand. “At first, that was the plan. I was going to hand you over to him in exchange for his help in the original ambush. It was the deal I made, but it’s not the deal I want now.”
“I’m supposed to believe you?”
He sighs, a little defeated-sounding. “I understand how you would feel that way. All this time, you’ve been lied to and used. But I mean it. Giving you to Gabriel… that hasn’t been on my radar for a long time. I said it was during that conversation to get everyone off my back.”
Shaking his head, he grunts, “No, I’m not giving you to him or to anyone. I meant it when I asked if you would stay with me, be my teammate. I’m not asking for more than that.” His eyes darken, though. “I want more, but I’m not going to force you. Never again.”
I want to believe him, but since when has wanting to believe gotten me anywhere? I wanted to believe Dad, too, and now I understand he would always have strung me along with promises of reuniting me with my mother. He never intended to make good on any of them.
And he would’ve blown my brains out back there if it meant hurting Liam, because he understood Liam wanted me as more than revenge. “I don’t know if I can believe that,” I admit,gripping the mug tight as my hands start to shake again. “Can you see how I would have a hard time believing you now?”
“Of course. All I ask is that you have a little faith in me. That’s it. Give me a chance. It started off all wrong, but I understand something: I went there tonight to find you. To free you. Not to get back at Donovan, but to get you away from him. Because that’s how much you mean to me. That’s what you deserve. Someone to be on your side this time.”
My whole miserable heart wants to believe him. I want to fall into his arms and promise I’ll never lie to him again. That I was stupid to think Dad was doing anything more than twisting me up, using me as a tool. “You’re safe with me,” Liam insists. “I’d understand if you don’t believe that. All I ask is that you give it time. Don’t try to run again. Can you do that?”
Can I? What’s the alternative? Saying no? Getting thrown to the wolves? I already tried the whole living on the run thing, and it didn’t go well.
Who am I kidding? It’s not all about that. I don’t want to be away from him—it doesn’t make any sense, but that’s how I feel. The thought of saying goodbye for good makes a sick, cold feeling pool in my belly. No, I don’t want that at all. “I promise,” I whisper. “I won’t try to run again. I won’t betray you anymore. We’re a team now.”
“Good.” He reaches across the table and I let go of the mug to take one of his hands. He squeezes tight. “Good.”
Later, in bed with his body wrapped around mine and his arms holding me close, I have to ask one more question. It’s easier to do that in the dark with my back to him, when I can’t see his face. “Did you ever think I was going to shoot you?”
He’s quiet for a long time, long enough that I wonder if he’s still awake before his soft sigh stirs my hair. “There was a second or two when I wasn’t sure,” he murmurs. “Like I said. I read themessages, I watched the video. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you wanted me dead.”
Now it’s my turn to go silent for a long time. “No,” I decide. “I wouldn’t have shot you. I never wanted you dead.”
This time, it’s a soft laugh that stirs my hair. “Never?”
“Okay. Maybe not never.” I’m still smiling as I fall asleep in his arms, which is where it’s starting to feel like I belong. Nobody else could make me smile on a day like this.
30
LIAM
There’s something about the air here, hours outside the city. When I step outside and pull in a deep breath, I would swear it clears my head. I’ve been sleeping better out here than I can remember sleeping, too. Wooden boards creak under my feet as I cross the porch, a cup of coffee in one hand, my phone in the other. It’s a picture-perfect day, and already someone from one of the cabins on the other side of the lake is easing a sailboat onto the water.
A flash of blond hair shimmering in the morning sun catches my eye, and soon a break in the trees reveals Aurora. She found a stick somewhere and drags it along the ground next to her, carving a line in the rocky soil at the water’s edge. More than anything, my soul aches to be down there with her, but I don’t dare break into her quiet mood. Besides, there’s work to be done.
“How’s it looking there?” I ask Nick when he answers my call. He was scheduled to head over to the penthouse today, to assess the repairs made after cleanup was completed.
“Repairs are finished. The place looks as good as new.” Nick’s voice echoes in the penthouse. I hear his footsteps through the phone. “It’s ready for you. Whenever you decide to come back.”
I hear the unspoken question. It’s a question I’ve asked myself several times in the past week since we arrived at the cabin. I haven’t been out here in ages—it’s more of a retreat intended for hiding out, laying low when shit hits the fan.
Shit has hit the fan. More shit than I’ve ever seen hit a fan in all my life.
And still, nothing is settled. From where I stand on the front porch, leaning against the railing, I see Aurora walking in her own little world. It’s one of her favorite things to do now, and she usually prefers to be alone when she does.
Just when I thought I’d mastered every challenge, conquered everything in my way, she had to prove me wrong. Leaving her alone is damn near impossible—not that I think she’ll run. She wouldn’t know where to go, and this is a hell of a lot more complicated than learning how to ride a bus and paying for a motel room. We are in the middle of nowhere.
Besides, I don’t think she’s interested in running anymore. She’s quiet, introspective, but not plotting. She has a heavy burden to process. Her father might have been a sentient piece of dog shit, but he was still her father. Some bonds are damn near impossible to break without a lot of thought, a lot of time.
Which is why, instead of going down there and inserting myself into her healing process, I hang back and watch from afar the way I have for days. This is about giving her what she needs, not taking what I want. She’s been through enough of that.
