Please, don’t fucking say no.
“But maybe I have to try.”
“That night,” Ryker says, “you told me that if anything happened to her, you’d burn the whole fucking world to the ground. Well, something happened, and I don’t see any flames, James.”
I stare at my brother for a moment. “Are you saying I should have tried harder?”
“That night? No. There was nothing you could do that night. But now? I don’t see why you wouldn’t fight for what you want. For what you love and need in your life. Lena loves you, Gideon.”
Willow nods, and then takes a deep breath. “Okay, I think I have a plan. The only downside is that you can’t rush to the airport right now.”
“When can I rush to the airport?” I ask her.
“In ten days.”
“Fuck that.” I pace back and forth, ready to pull my hair out.
“It’s areallygood plan,” she insists. “And if you need convincing, let me show you something.”
She disappears down a hallway and then returns to the room, carrying another framed piece of art.
It’s the mountains at sunrise.
Fuck, my Rebel is so fucking talented.
“She sent this to me as a gift,” Willow says. “The rest of her work is going on exhibit in ten days.”
My eyes snap up to hers. “Where?”
“In DC. She’s getting a whole exhibit, Gid. But I want you to look at this a little closer.”
I take it from her and stare at the colors. The oranges and pinks, how perfectly she captured the mountains with snowy peaks.
There’s no denying that this is the view from my back deck.
As my eyes skim down, I see that she signed itL. James.
James.
You could always use a pseudonym, you know ...
My gaze whips back up to Willow, and she smiles smugly.
“Tell me about this plan.”
Later that night, I crawl into bed, still missing the warmth of my woman, but feeling hope for the first time in so long, I’m scared to trust it.
Scared to believe that this could work.
That she will want me back.
She’s using my name as her pseudonym.
Out of all the names in this world, she chose mine. And if she wants my name, I’ll give it to her for good.
For real.
I pull my cell out of the drawer of my bedside table and power it on, and then watch in shock as hundreds of texts start coming in.
