Page 143 of Outcast’s Vow

Father doesn’t reply.

Leopold’s seething at us. Humiliated, he’s still dangerous. I could say something to him. Twist the knife. But I hold my tongue. He might yet find a way to ruin us.

Baptiste, holding my hand as tight as his hug, nods at my father and then guides me out of the room and out of the mansion, deliberately stepping over Ethan, still crying on the floor.

In our relief and happiness, we don’t pay my ex another second’s thought.

And we don’t look back.

56

SYLVIE

Baptiste is there for me on the drive back home, even though he doesn’t say a word. He merely holds my hand. It’s not loud, and it isn’t grand, but that little gesture is exactly what I want and need from him.

Soon the darkness of upstate New York gives way to the bright lights of the city. I let it all wash over me, closing my eyes and letting myself feel Baptiste’s hand in mine.

We’re going home.

Unusually, he doesn’t speed. He takes his careful time. It’s like a weight has been lifted from both of us.

We are finally together. After everything.

* * *

“I need a shower,” I murmur when we’re back home. Baptiste just nods in reply, and I don’t blame him. Words seem like such an effort after what’s happened.

No one’s been at the penthouse for days. It’s dark and has a solemn, ghostly air of not having been lived in.

But Baptiste soon changes that.

He lights candles and plays soft music that resonates throughout our home. As always, he makes everything better.

I watch him as I slowly close the door to the bedroom, relief flooding every part of me as he dims the lights. It’s like he’s creating some kind of perimeter between us and the outside world, like he’s creating our own secret world in this penthouse.

I take a long shower. Like the lights of the city in the car, I let the hot water wash over me as my mind remains blank. I need a moment to process what’s occurred in the last few hours, to let the adrenaline subside.

But soon I’m thinking about Baptiste.

I’m with him now.

I’m not delusional – the Castaways still exist. The Masked Killer still roams free. Leopold will want vengeance. Cromwell will want to be rewarded for his assistance. The Order is not finished, and we still need to sort out... everything. But, right now, no one is trying to execute Baptiste. No one is trying to cage me.

Right now, we’re going to be okay.

As the shower runs down my back, I look at my hands. They’re shaking.

* * *

“Sylvie, we need to talk.”

“I think we do.”

I’ve stepped into the living room after the shower, candles flickering and nice music filling the air. Baptiste sits on the couch, waiting for me, his hands clasped tight together in front of him.

He’s been thinking.

I join him on the couch, my body turned toward him. The questions that have been swirling in my mind during the shower still echo...