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I switch to not thinking about anything at all.
Afterward, we go back to Mason’s apartment, where everybody is in high spirits. Gabriel congratulates me on my face no longer looking quite so fucked up. Robin is the cutest baby in the world. Nate and Lydia are surprisingly involved in the wedding planning discussions.
Everyone’s happy.
Everyone’s fine.
There’s still the small issue of Lily’s grandfather and his maybe-Super-PAC of hitmen that he doesn’t coordinate with, but even that seems like it might not be a big deal after all.
My performance of being happy and fine is a tour de force.
Eventually, Gabriel and Elise take the teenagers back to his brownstone, and I settle in with Mason and Charlotte and Remy and Lily and Robin to watch a romantic comedy.
The couple falls in love.
Lily and I go to my bedroom, which might be the weirdest part of the setup. I never thought I’d bring anyone home to Mason’s penthouse. I never thought that if Idid, the woman in question would want to stay more than one night.
Ineverthought that if it happened, the woman in question would want to fuck.
It’s the first time since I got the shit kicked out of me, and it’s slow and gentle with Lily on top and doing most of the work, and I could almost fall asleep afterward.
Almost.
Shefalls asleep, curled against my side.
I stare at the ceiling.
Without the drag of the painkillers, I can feel everything. All the energy that builds up throughout a day of pretending that I’m a normal, non-criminal guy. All the curdled anger that won’t go the fuck away, no matter how much I trespass and vandalize and sabotage.
I can’t lie here with it.
I ease myself out from under Lily, cover her with the blankets, and wash up in the bathroom with the lights off.
Getting dressed doesn’t wake her up.
I take my phone and head out through the lobby, nodding at the doormen as I go. They’ll assume I was going somewhere with zero intention of committing a crime since I let them see me.
In Mason’s parking garage, I pick one of his most nondescript black SUVs, get behind the wheel, and find an inoffensive radio station.
I drive out through the gate and slow to a stop to check for oncoming cars.
Somebody taps on the passenger-side window.
It’sLily.
I roll it down, my heart losing its mind. “What are you doing out here?”
She's dressed in black, the same outfit she wore when we went to the farmhouse, and she lookshot. Lily holds her hand up and wriggles her fingers. Her engagement ring glints in the light from the parking garage. “We’re partners in crime, remember? Unlock the doors. I'm getting in.”
16
LILY
Jameson drives us away from his brother’s building, and I settle into the passenger seat to pretend my heart isn’t beating out of my chest.
For a second there, I thought he might leave without me. For a second, I thought I might let him. I wassotired. So deeply, massively tired.
I didn’t let that stop me.
