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Her head tilts to the side. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, when all this is over. And we go back to New York. What happens with us?”
She breaks eye contact with me, looking down at the floor. She’s quiet. Thinking? Or avoiding my question.
“Tell me.” I slip a finger under her chin, tilting her face upward so our eyes meet. “I need to know.”
I don’t like the look on her face. The sparkle is gone. There’s a sadness there in her dark irises.
My stomach sinks into my polished black boots. Instantly, I regret having asked.
“It’s simple,” she says, her voice so soft I can barely hear her over the din of the orchestra. “There is no us. There can’t be.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Rhett
It feels terrible to tell him the truth. That there is no us. That there will never be an us. That this whole magical thing we have is just that… magic. Not real. Here and gone. Reach out and try to grab it and just when you think you’re wrapping your fingers around it, it disappears.
As bad as it feels to hurt him, it’s freeing.
Finally saying the words out loud, I’m no longer fooling myself. Telling him that there can’t be any us is admitting the truth not only to him but to myself too. It’s like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders.
They say the truth will set you free.
So why is my stomach tangled in knots?
I gather the strength to stare up at him, feeling the warmth of his arms leaving my waist as he lets me go.
“Okay,” he says. “So that’s it?”
“Yes. I mean, thank you for everything. The clothes, the trip, the protection…” My voice trails off, thinking of Trevor’s horrible fate, realizing it could be happening to him right now. My blood goes cold at the thought, a chill running down my spine. Trevor could already be dead. I haven’t had the guts to ask.
Beckett hasn’t said anything either way.
Knowing what Beckett’s capable of, I can’t stay with him any longer than he makes me.
A steely look of determination covers his face. “Tell me why.”
“Beckett…” I plead with him with my eyes, not my words. Don’t make me tell you. Don’t make me say it out loud.
“No. Say it. Tell me.” The look he gives me wrenches my gut and my heart twists in my chest like he’s put a knife in it. “You don’t owe me anything. Nothing at all. But I want to hear it from your mouth. Why we can’t continue this thing between us. I think I deserve at least that.”
He’s right. He deserves that, and more. I take a deep breath, willing the air that fills my lungs to give me the courage that I need to speak. “The truth is, I can’t jump out of the arms of one violent man straight into the arms of another.”
“Violent?” Hurt fills his gaze. “Is that how you see me? Like him?”
“No.” I shake my head, my loose curls brushing my bare shoulders. “I know you’re not him. But you kill people. You had him killed.”
Saying the word out loud. Killed. It hurts. It ties my stomach in knots. It makes me feel ill, dizzy, lightheaded. Saying the words makes me know, with certainty, I’m making the right choice by ending this. He didn’t give me a choice when it came to Trevor.
I won’t let him take this one from me.
My next words come out as a whisper. “You didn’t even give me a choice. Whether or not he was to die.” The tears come and this time I can’t stop them. They stream down my face.
He slips his hands on either side of my cheeks, cradling my face against his palms.
Finally, I ask the question that’s been burning in my mind since the moment the jet landed. I meet his eyes, tears blurring my vision. “He’s dead. Isn’t he?”
