“Secora,” is all he says. Where my voice is a vicious snap, his is melted butter as he touches my face. His fingers rake through my hair, pausing to release the fastened band. As I gape at him, he works his fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp. “My Secora.”
“You’re distracting me,” I accuse, but I don’t try to stop him either. I let my eyes flutter shut as he plays with my hair.
“You shouldn’t have lied,” he says, ignoring me. “You should have told me what my mama did to you.”
I still, but Elliot doesn’t. As my pulse quickens, his touch slides from my hair, down the sides of my neck. His hands are gentle and slow, pressing softly against my skin.
“I should have realized it,” he adds. “But you shouldn’t have lied.”
I try to swallow uselessly. My throat is too dry.
“It makes sense,” he continues. “I would’ve gone to Mama for help, and when she failed you…I killed him. I killed him because I couldn’t handle that he got away with it. That mymamalet him get away with it.”
The word mama has never sounded more like a four letter curse.
“Did she knowIkilled him?” he asks. His fingers continue playing with my hair, and though I’m desperate to look at hisface, I can’t bring myself to open my eyes. “Did she know, Secora?”
My chest is hollow. I scramble for something to say, something to excuse what happened. Even after Elliot knew most of the truth, I wasn’t sure I’d ever tell him this. He loves his mama, and despite her endless faults, I know she loves him too.
But he also lovesme, and he deserves to know.
“Yes,” I whisper finally. My voice is so quiet, I’m not sure I’ve spoken aloud. It is only the way Elliot tenses that I know I have.
“Tell me,” he says. He’s closer to begging than demanding.
“I brought you to her,” I say finally. “Iofferedto take the fall, Elliot, for what it’s worth.”
He doesn’t respond. Doesn’t move or breathe. His hands rest on my shoulders, no longer playing with my hair.
“I couldn’t cover it up by myself,” I explain. Now that Elliot’s stopped moving, I can’t stand still. I wrap my arms around his waist, pressing myself almost desperately against his chest. “I agreed to take the blame. In exchange, your mama promised not to seek the death penalty. She was supposed to exile me.”
Still no movement, no reaction. I keep my eyes closed, too afraid of what I’ll see if I look up.
“I like to think she meant it. At least in the beginning,” I say. I rub my hands across his back, then up and down his spine. “She wanted your memories though. She couldn’t stand that I had them, and I understand why. I’m sure she thought I would turn on you at some point, that I’d expose the truth of what you did to Harrison. She refused to exile me until I gave them.
“So I was kept in that prison.” My voice cracks, and I pause to take a steadying breath. “They tried everything to get the memories out, but my mind isstrong. Nothing worked, and I refused to let them in. They beat me. Starved me. Humiliated me. Until finally…your mama realized there was an easier solution to destroy them.”
Elliot lets out a strangled sob, and the sound is like frigid water over my head. I snap out of my dazed recount, pulling back to look at him. He’d been perfectly still seconds ago, but now his whole body shakes. Tears streak his face as he takes heaving breaths, failing to regain control.
“Don’t, Elliot. You’re the reason I escaped,” I tell him firmly. I speak the words against his chest, right next to his heart. “After Harrison raped me, you took off those cuffs. You replaced them with a faulty set. They all thought I was powerless, but I wasn’t. Whether you knew it or not, you got me out of that prison.”
“I was the reason you were in it,” he says through a shaky breath. “And my mama…”
“She waswrong. She made the wrong choice, but I understand her,” I say softly. It’s the truth. Much as I despise Madam Lyrie for betraying me, I’ve always understood her fear beneath it all. “She’s still your mama, Elliot. This plan with the vampires won’t end well. There will inevitably be bloodshed, and if the vampires feel it’s in their best interest?—”
“They’ll kill her,” he finishes for me. Strangely, that comment seems to ground him. “I know.”
I swallow, but my throat feels impossibly tight.
“Don’t do this because you’re angry,” I whisper.
Elliot lets out a soft scoff, hugging me tighter against his chest.
“I am angry,” he says, voice steadier than it was moments ago. “I am angry at what she did to you, to me. I am angry at what she undoubtedly did to other innocent people. But the sacrifice she’s planning…This isn’t about anger, Secora. She’s planning a genocide. She has her reasons, but I’ll never forgive myself if I allow it to happen.”
I breathe Elliot in, letting the soft scent of his cologne flood my senses. He’s so good, and not for the first time, I wonder how it’s possible. With Madam Lyrie as his only parent, withHarrison Iyle as his childhood friend, Elliot has every reason to be terrible, and yet, he is the purest soul I’ve ever met.
“I love you,” I whisper. Because I still haven’t said it. I’m not sure I ever have. I’ve kept the words tucked to my chest, too scared what will happen if I let them out.
