“Jules is young in all the right ways. Her view of the world—of our family—she still has hope, you know? And when she got kidnapped, ournannydrugged her. Ourfamily lawyerdragged her up a cliffside and used her as bait. Almost everyone she’s loved has disappointed her.”
The memory makes me sick.
“If she finds out about me, and she knows it was my dad…”
“So that’s why you won’t tell her. Because you’re protecting her from knowing what your father did.”
“I’m protecting everyone!” I press my palms to my eyes. “The fewer people that know, the better. Can you imagine what would happen if it got out that I killed people? You’ve seen what theRagdoes over a walk with us. Think of the fallout my family would endure.”
“Lance, it’s not your job to carry your father’s shame.”
“It is if the alternative is my sister knowing her dad sold her brother to a cage.” My voice comes out raw. “She still loves him, Genevieve. She still calls him on Sundays and talks about her memories, and even though he’s hurt her, she still believes he’s a good man. I won’t be the one to take that from her.”
She’s quiet for a long time. Then she slides off the arm of the couch and moves toward me.
“You told me,” she says.
“What?”
“You toldme. Not Juliette, not your brothers. Me.” She stops in front of me. “Why?”
Because you’re the only person who makes me feel like the truth won’t destroy me.
“Because you see me,” I say. “The real me. And you don’t run.”
Her eyes fill, and she takes another step.
“Did you know I killed Freddy?”
She sucks in a breath, but her chin stiffens. “And?”
“It’s late. You should go back to bed.”
“Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Pushing me away. I’m so tired of being handled. Of people deciding what I can and can’t know, of questioning everything and everyone. I thought you were different. I thought we had a deal.”
“You’re right.” The words scrape out like gravel. “We do.”
“Then talk to me. Tell me what’s going on in your head. Tell me why you look at me like…”
“Like what?” I whisper.
“You know what.”
Her words stretch across the space and wrap around my heart.
And I want to tell her that I didn’t fall for her all at once. It was slow, and ordinary, and it crept in through the kitchen, and the mornings, and the way she slips food to my dog thinking I don’t notice. That somewhere between the waterfall and the bench and the sandwiches at ten p.m., she became more to me.
She becameeverything.
“Because you’re my seven seconds,” I say. “You’re the one thing in this world I want to remember when shit gets dark, and it’skillingme, because I can’t have you. I can’t do this to him.He’s my best friend. My brother. Even when he’s acting like a stranger, even if he’s lost, and you’re…”
“His girlfriend,” she finishes.
“Yeah. Something like that.”
