There was another secret, too. One Enne didn’t want to admit, not because it made her appear ruthless, but because it made her appear weak. It burned in her now as she stood beside him—the way they leaned close, but not too close. They’d hurt each other, and now they were afraid of each other, of giving or taking too much and repeating the same pain all over again.
But Enne’s secret—the one she’d been running from for months, the blade that could pierce her not once, or twice, but over and over—was that no amount of giving or taking would ever be enough. Her life before New Reynes had been safe, but it had been lonely. Even if Enne’s story had begun with her mother’s death, it had also begun with Levi. And no matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise, it would always lead to him, as well.
The elevator doors opened, and both of their breaths hitched. For a moment, neither moved.
“I guess we’re both walking, then,” Levi said awkwardly.
“Walking where?” she asked.
“It doesn’t have to be home.”
“No,” she breathed. “It doesn’t.”
They walked through the hallway and into a back alley behind St. Morse. It was raining. Levi opened his umbrella and kept it low to conceal their faces. They could’ve been any couple walking down Tropps Street in an evening storm—almost.
“Last night, I was offered a chance to purchase a casino on the new boardwalk,” Levi told her.
“That’s incredible,” Enne said, and she meant it. It was exactly the sort of flashy, clever aspiration that suited him.
“It would’ve taken me months to scrounge up the volts, but with Vianca’s party, there’s no way I can afford it now.” He shook his head. “It was a thick idea, anyway.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do. Things have finally been going well for the Irons, and I don’t want to push my luck.”
“Not so long ago, you told me that if I wanted something, I should let myself have it,” she said, and instantly regretted it. Those words hadn’t been about shopping sprees or excess treats; they’d been about him. She pressed forward, as though she’d forgotten that detail. “You don’t follow your own advice?”
“Obviously not,” he said slowly, looking at her. She flushed and turned away. It would be easier to convince herself to stop wanting him if he didn’t look at her like that.
Around them, the flashing lights of Tropps Street were muted and dim. The rain provided a thin, hazy curtain, separating them from the rest of the world.
“We should get out of the rain,” Levi murmured.
Enne examined the various taverns and storefronts. “Anywhere that doesn’t serve food.”
A few minutes later, they slipped inside a quiet music den. A small band played onstage, and the tables, despite the evening hour, were mostly empty. The pair crept into one in the corner, both their backs to the wall so they could keep a careful scope of the place.
When a server approached, Enne ordered for both of them—Levi kept his head down and didn’t say anything, in case he might be recognized. The server didn’t pay them much attention anyway.
“A Hotsy-Totsy?” Levi asked, clutching his heart. “I should’ve known.”
“Yes, you should’ve. It’s not easy playing politics at those parties with Vianca hovering over me.” She neatly folded a napkin over her lap. “And it actually tastes good, unlike what you drink.”
“North Side drinks aren’t supposed to taste good. They’re supposed to burn, and you’re supposed to like it.” The server set both their drinks down, and Levi shook his head at Enne’s, all fizzy and pink. “And I don’t know... Vianca didn’t make those South Side parties seem that bad.” He scowled as he took a sip of his Gambler’s Ruin, another gesture Enne tried not to dwell on.
“Maybe not.” She forced herself to shrug. “But it does get tiresome, pretending to be something I’m not.”
“I would’ve thought you’d fit right in below the river.”
“Would you?”
Levi swirled around the contents of his drink. “Well, maybe when we first met, but no, not anymore.” He almost sounded remorseful, like it was his fault she’d lost herself.
“I’m done mourning my old life,” she told him seriously. “If you have something worth fighting for in New Reynes, then you need to be prepared to fight dirty. Maybe that makes me a Sinner, but at least I care about something. And at least I’m not alone.”
Something in Levi’s expression changed when she said those words. He leaned forward and took her hand.
“I know I made mistakes,” he murmured. “I hurt you trying to protect someone else, and I’ll never stop being sorry. But I want to make it right.”
