“Stone. Forget you and me, think about Fig.” He paused, recognition sliding across his face. “They’ll go for her.”
His eyes searched mine, as if hoping he’d find a lie. When he found none, he exhaled and sat back at the counter, dragging a hand down his face.
After a few moments, he spoke. “This isn’t right.”
It wasn’t right.
It wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted to take the fall. He wanted us to live a normal life. Instead, in a twisted way, he got the dream. He could live a normal life. So could Fig.
I was the reason for all this anyway.
I killed our father.
“Go live a normal, happy life,” I said, echoing the words he’d told me years ago when the police dragged him away.
Stone looked like he wanted to argue but, in the end, said nothing.
By the time he left, it was nearing midnight. I still hadn’t changed out of my clothes from earlier, and a text message waited for me.
I had a really great time tonight.
Shay.
Tonight was more than great. It was…normal. I got to be a boyfriend buying his girlfriend books. Talking about our life.
Where doing that didn’t put her in danger.
I stared at the message until the words blurred into the screen.
I’d promised her Saturday, and I’d fulfill that promise—maybe selfishly. One last night, where I fulfill her biggest fantasies. Where I get to pretend.
Then I would leave her alone, and whatever happened between Butcher and me, wouldn’t fall back on her.
I was never supposed to have this, anyway.
chapter
forty-one
CALDER
In the parking lot opposite Shay’s apartment, I stared up at her window. The light rain created a fuzzy, golden haze.
Saturday night.
Right now, Shay was home, and her sister was at the club. To be certain, I once again glanced at the unmoving dot on the map that marked Shay’s location.
She was home—alone.
I fiddled with the mask, rubbing the soft black fibers between my thumbs until bits of light poked through.
There was an odd, hollow ache settling in my chest the more we crossed items off her list. A reminder that this was going to end. I was starting to want things I had no right to want. Wishing this had no end?—
I furiously rubbed flour off my wrists.
“You fucking idiot,” I said to myself in the rearview.
I slid the mask on my face and went to the building. The air was fresh. Crisp. Fragile. Glass-like.
