“I don’t know. I’ve been lost for a long time,” I admit.
“You want to tell me about it?”
I recall what Ms. Bernard said a month ago, something that was along the lines of putting trust in others. I’ve always trusted Conin and I always will, but I think I understand now what she was trying to tell me. She was trying to get me to open up to her then, but I wouldn’t with anyone. But I think the time’s come to say something.
And so I do.
Chapter 64
Conin
I’ve always envisioned Ezra in a field of green, white roses dotting the landscape in a perpetual horizon. He’d stand there, still as a painting, watching the sun dip below the stretch of land. His hair billowing in a wind I could not feel. Once the sun fell, he’d turn to me with a smile etched on his face and his blue and green eyes piercing into my soul. But this time when he turns, the night doesn’t fill to the brim with stars. The sky is a soulless black and Ezra’s irises have darkened with it. Around us, the roses change from white to a bloodened crimson. The flowers exude a blushing scarlet that spills until it drowns the land in its horror. Ezra slumps into the blood, cuts and lacerations racing across his skin.
I wasn’t there to witness his relapse, but I can imagine it in my head as clear as day.
It’s why I can write stories so well; the way I envision images scares even me.
“I don’t know why I did it . . . why I kept doing it. When Thax tired of doing it himself, I’d take the blade and continue his work,” Ezra mutters, so low I have to strain to hear.
“I think I understand,” I say. “You did what felt normal to you . . . what took away the pain Lukeman and Thax caused. I’m so sorry, Ez.”
He nods but doesn’t tell me it’s okay. Because it’s not. None of this is.
“In that moment, when I found out what happened to you, I felt . . . I knew, that all of this was my fault,” he says.
I refuse to let him believe this. He didn’t choose to be discovered, for Thax to turn him in, and for the Barclay mercenaries to pursue him relentlessly. And it was I who decided to go along with him. I chosehim. Ezra. I would do it again in a heartbeat.
“You’d be home with your mom writing your books, preparing for college . . . maybe even you and Melissa could have been . . . a thing. And I took that all away from you.”
I cringe at the mention of Melissa, feeling guilty for not having thought of her since the start of all this. The same can be said for Tommy, who we abandoned all those weeks ago . . . who may not even be alive now. Worst of all, I feel guilt that Ezra believes he stripped me of my entire life. If I’m being truthful, a life without him would be pointless.
“Ez, I want to make this clear,” I say firmly.
His sad gaze finds mine. We stare at each other before I find the proper words to speak.
“First of all, Melissa and I were only ever friends. She knew how badly I was crushing on you. And second, you didn’t take away anything from me. This world’s cruel . . . it stripped us of everything—you above all. Yes, it’s not fair, but that’s not because of you. I would’ve followed you no matter what. I made that decision.Me.It was mine alone. And I decided that Icouldn’t live in a world without you. That I didn’t want to live in a world without you. You are everything to me.”
He blinks away the tears that fall no matter how hard he tries. I curve my finger around his chin and press up so he can look at me. He averts his eyes, but I keep my finger placed there for as long as it takes. With my other thumb, I wipe away the stream that’s slid down his cheek.
“I love you,” I say, “and that’s not going to change.”
“I love you too,” he whispers.
I pull him in. He stands awkwardly at the side of the bed, but he stays there as I rake fingers down his hair.
“You and Atlas have helped me so much in seeing my worth, so I want to fight. I want to protect you now, Conin. And . . . before I can do that, I need to get better. Cutting myself then was a relapse and I know things may get worse before they get better, but I’m going to do my best. With the drinking and my . . . eating disorder, too.”
“Thank you for telling me.”
“Atlas helped me through one of my episodes that one time. I think that’s when it clicked.”
Anyone who treats Ezra like a king is someone I want in my life. I just didn’t know it’d be such a turn-on for me.
“And you will get better. I believe in you.”
“Thanks,” he says.
I pull out of our embrace, kissing him gently on the forehead. His smile is weak, but he chuckles, which makes the entire gesture worth it. He keeps his lips sealed, pursed together, and watches me for what seems a very long time. It’s not uncomfortable and I reciprocate his looks, drinking him in, admiring one of the boys I have deep, deep feelings for. The boy that I love.
