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“Finn,” I murmured, my eyes finally sliding from the paper in my hand to Beck’s hardened stare. “My informant in Holloway about her.”
A dark look crossed over Beck’s face, his jaw clenching before he nodded and stalked away.
Once he was gone, I opened the letter, still unsure if I wanted to read whatever she’d written but unable to make myself stop.
It was like tipping the glass back to get the last drop of whiskey. Compulsory and irresistible.
And if this was the last drop of Elle, I wanted to devour it.
So I did . . . again and again until I had her words memorized, and I was left wondering if it would ever be enough.
I tilted my head when I heard a chair being dragged across the room to where I was, but I didn’t bother looking over my shoulder to see who it was.
There was only one person who was that loud.
Beck let out a sigh when he plopped into the chair next to mine to look out the windows.
“I miss the window seat,” I mumbled.
Mickey was refusing to let us move back into the guesthouse, even though my life was no longer in danger. Then again, I think this was his way of showing us that he still had control over us.
Of showing me that he had control over me.
“You know, now that I know everything . . . now that I know how bad it was for you with Kieran . . . I’ve been looking back on our lives a lot. I can’t remember ever finding you staring out a window before four years ago.”
“I never felt like a prisoner before four years ago.”
“You hadn’t felt like you’d lost Kieran,” he countered.
I stilled and after a second nodded.
“Lil, I can’t watch you go through another four years of this. How long are you gonna wait for him to come back before you realize he’s not?”
I turned to look at him for the first time, pain spearing my chest. “It’s been three days. I waited for Kieran for four years. And I don’t—I don’t know how to stop waiting for him. You don’t understand what we had.”
“Do you see how much pain you’re in?”
“How much pain are you in?” I shot back. “How many years have you been waiting for her to stop selling herself, Beck?”
His face fell and jaw clenched, but he didn’t respond.
“You punish yourself by being there every night and ensuring she’ll continue to hate you, but I know deep down you’re still waiting. You’ll always be waiting for her. I don’t tell you to stop what you’re doing. I am trapped in this place, controlled by a man I despise, and all I can do is look out a damn window. So let me look and hope and wait.”
He dipped his head in a reluctant nod and squeezed my arm with his large hand. “Can I look out the window with you, Lil?”
A soft, sad laugh left my lips as I settled back in my chair. “Yeah, Beck.”
We sat in silence for a long time, thoughts swirling through my mind of Dare and Kieran, of Gia and the girl Beck would always wait for, of Einstein and Johnny, of Teagan . . . so many heartaches, and it wasn’t even the beginning.
“Maybe these are the lives we’re meant to have. Maybe this is our atonement for being born to monsters or choosing to step into this world no one sees. We can’t have love, but we’ll always chase it. And as soon as we touch it, grasp it, feel the warmth of it . . . it’s destroyed.”
“Do you really believe that?” he asked, his tone curious instead of mocking.
I rubbed at my aching chest and looked at my best friend. “I wonder if I’m beginning to.”
“So if he came back . . .”
“I would let my heart be
