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“Because I don’t think she kept things from you because she didn’t trust you. She did it to protect you.”
“Because she knew who you and your brother were, didn’t she?” My voice trembles and suddenly, I regret starting this conversation at all. Do I really want confirmation that Rose wasn’t the innocent soul that I always thought she was? Maybe believing in her innate goodness is just self-preservation at this point.
Sometimes, the lies we tell ourselves are the only things keeping us whole.
“Yes,” Cian answers before I can tell him not to. My stomach plummets. “She knew.”
That hurts, but if I stopped asking questions now, I bet I could still hold on to my untainted memory of her. I could purge that little tidbit and go back to loving Rose the way I always have.
But, biting my lip, I feel a tear slip down the side of my cheek. Denial has never really been my strong suit. It took months for Rose to realize that Dad wasn’t coming back. It took Mom years.
But me? It took me only minutes to figure that out.
“So she was aware that Jared was a gambler?”
Cian sighs wearily. “I don’t think she knew at first. But after Jared’s first big win, he told her how he got the money. I don’t think either one of them thought it would become a years’ long obsession. And when things got hard, he became so sure it was their way out. ‘It’s not an addiction, Cian—it’s salvation.’” He shudders like the memory pains him.
I shudder, too. Jared’s face flashes through my head. Lopsided grin, one dimple, cute and roguish and funny as all hell when he chose to be. He was suffering, too, though, wasn’t he? Rose was in the bathtub with bloody water swirling around her, yes, but Jared’s pain was all inside.
I breathe slowly and make myself look at the ceiling again until the tide of grief ebbs away. “How big a hole did they dig themselves into?”
He winces as though he’s been expecting the question. “Big enough that my brother got involved.”
“D-did… um… did Rose know about Elena?”
His eyes slide to mine in the mirror, equal parts cold and sad. “That deal was between Jared and Cathal, Wren. Not even I knew about it until Jared had already taken Elena.”
I freeze. If I don’t sit up now I’m definitely going to throw up. “Jared took Elena?”
“Wren, maybe this is not the right time to?—”
“Cian.”
He sighs again, but he doesn’t make me keep arguing with him. “He had no choice, Wren. He owed Cathal millions by then. He’d been on a steady losing streak for a year. It was either write off the debt by doing whatever Cathal asked. Or watch Rose die in place of Elena.”
Before I can even process all that, the car starts to slow down.
“We’re here.”
I wipe the tears from my eyes and wait until Cian has parked. He helps me out of the car and I sleep-walk through the hospital with his arm looped around my waist for support. He speaks to the nurses and, soon enough, we’re shown into an examination room with fluorescent lights so bright they hurt my eyes.
“Dr. Liza will be with you shortly, Mr. and Mrs. Beckhoff,” a nurse in bright pink scrubs says before leaving and closing the door behind her.
I laugh bitterly and let my eyes flutter closed as my head lolls back on the crinkling exam table paper. “Congrats on your wedding, Mr. Beckhoff.”
Cian snorts in response. “Well, I wasn’t about to offer up our real names now, was I? If your doctor decides to tip Dmitri off, at least we’ll have a head start.”
“Guess you thought of everything. Criminal mastermind.”
When I peek at him, he’s got the hint of a smile in one corner of his mouth. It’s heartbreaking to see, actually. So much sadness in that face with just one little spot of joy.
“You know, I always liked you, Wren.”
“Just not enough to stand up to whoever it is who’s pulling your strings.”
That’s all it takes. The smile wilts away. “No one’s pulling anything,” he says. “I made a decision.”
“To be someone’s bitch?”
