Lydia doesn’t answer.
And that silence–God, that silence is enough.
“You kept quiet because you wanted to protect Finn, didn’t you?”
I take a slow step forward.
“One word from you would have fixed everything.” I let the words sink in. “One word. I was the only one who gave a damn about you in that house. I fucking mourned your death for the past twelve years. I lit candles for you in countries I couldn’t even pronounce because I thought I failed you. My father sent me away because of you. Do you have any idea what I went through? What it felt like waking up every day and believing I could’ve saved you if I had just–just been there?”
I look at my mother.
She’s crying again. Not that I care anymore.
“And you,” I say, jaw tight. “You knew she was alive and kept up the charade. Even to your own husband. That has to be the coldest, most inhumane thing you’ve ever done.”
“Knox-”
“No.” I raise my voice just enough to silence hers. “I want you all to keep quiet and listen to me. You’ve had your turns to speak. Now it’s mine. And I won’t say this again, so listen closely.”
No one breathes.
“I don’t want to see your calls, your texts, your face–hell, even your fucking name–near me again. Don’t chase down my friends to come talk to me. Not Hunter. Not anyone. And if you, Finn,” I point directly at him, “so much as come within a mile of Sloane again, I’m going to kill you.”
His eyes flare wide.
I mean it.
I go to the door, grip the handle, and fling it open. The air that rushes in tastes like relief.
But I pause. I’m not done. Not yet.
My eyes find her again.
My mother. Or whatever she is now.
“If you love that crazy son of yours,” I say, “you better teach him how to find his own women. Not the ones he thinks I fucked.”
Finn glares at me. Fury and embarrassment warring on his face.
I hold his gaze and wait. Please. Say something. Give me a reason.
But he doesn’t.
He swallows it all, jaw working uselessly as he looks away.
“And you,” I say, my voice now coated in ice as I turn to Lydia, “I say this from the bottom of my heart…”
She raises her head slowly. Her lips are trembling.
1/3
19.04
Chapter 120
“I really wished you died.”
And with that, I walk out, slamming the door behind me.
SLOANE
It’s difficult to sit still when the man you love, who’s possibly dangerous, is out there with people who might push the wrong button and set him off.
I’ve turned off the TV twice already. The sound is too loud, then too soft, then somehow just annoying. The cushions I arranged on the couch are scattered across the floor now. I keep trying to find a comfortable position–legs folded, then stretched, then crossed, then folded again. Nothing feels right. The living room light is too harsh, so I dim it. Then it becomes too dark, so I brighten it. I hate this. I hate being in limbo. Knox has been gone for a while. Too long.
I check the time on my phone again and try not to sigh out loud.
Maybe he’s just taking his time. Maybe they’re still talking. Or maybe Finn finally said something that sent him over the edge, and now I have a boyfriend who’s dragging a body into a trunk somewhere off the highway. Jesus.
I close my eyes and press the heels of my hands into them.
Stop. He’s not a killer. Not unless someone deserved it.
That’s not comforting.
God, these hormones. It’s like they’ve rearranged my brain with a paranoia dial set to catastrophic. Maybe I should call. Just to check. One call. One little call won’t hurt. I scroll to his contact and hit dial before I can talk myself out of it. It rings. Once. Twice. Then stops.
I stare at the screen like it might come to life and explain what the hell is going on. How many times do I call before it counts as panic?
And then I hear it–the gravelly crunch of tires outside. The unmistakable sound of his car pulling in. I practically launch off the couch, tossing the pillows aside and sprinting to the front door.
I throw it open.
Knox is out of the car and coming toward me, but he isn’t moving like the man I left at home earlier this morning. His shoulders are tense, his jaw locked. His eyes, when they find mine, are unreadable. There’s…something there. Something I’ve never seen on his face before. Not anger. Not sadness. Not even numbness. Just… different.
“Knox-“I say his name softly, unsure of how to proceed. As he reaches the door, I step back to let him in.
For once, he doesn’t take his shoes off. He walks straight in and shuts the door behind him, coming forward until he stops right in front of me. So close I can smell the cold on his jacket and the faint scent of cologne mixed with the air outside.
“Do you love me?” he asks.
“What?”
“Do you love me?” he repeats, quieter this time, but no less intense.
“Of course I do,” I say quickly. “Where is this coming from? What happened?”
He raises a hand to the back of my head, fingers slipping through my hair. His touch is gentle, but there’s a desperation in it.
2/3
13:02 Tue, 10 Jun
Chapter 120
“I need you to be completely honest with me, Sloane,” he says. “I need to know if I’ve got someone in my corner. Someone who’s mine. Someone who won’t wake up one day and decide they’ve had enough of me. You don’t have to dress it up or cushion it–I can take the truth. Just don’t lie to me, is this real to you? Us? Or am I just… some phase? A stop along the way? Are you gonna wake up one morning and decide to put yourself on the list of people who’ve broken my fucking heart? Because I swear, I can’t take that again. I can’t keep giving pieces of myself to people just to watch them leave, I need to know you’re not going to break me too.”
His breath shudders out as if he’s said too much.
“Knox,” I whisper, reaching up to place my palm over his chest. His heart is racing. “What happened out there?”
“I need to hear it from you,” he says, eyes still locked on mine. “Do you love me? Are you really mine?”
Tears prick the corners of my eyes before I can stop them. He looks so lost.
“I don’t know what Finn said to you,” I manage, my voice shaking. “But I do love you. Do you understand me? I’m not leaving you. You think I’m out here blowing up my whole life, fighting my family, cutting ties because it’s fun? Because it’s convenient? I love you, Knox. I wake up in the morning thinking about you. I go to bed worried about you. You’re in my head every second, even when you’re not trying to be. Even when you’re acting like this. You’re mine, and I don’t want anyone else.”
His jaw clenches, and his eyes close for a brief second. Then he pulls me closer, so close our foreheads almost touch, and I feel the tremble in his body.
“I love you,” I say again. “And if you ever ask me that question again, if you ever doubt it for a second, I swear I’ll-”
His lips crash down on mine before I can finish the sentence.
