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Screw Cade.
Screw all the Richters.
This is all that matters.
This beautiful girl standing before me.
I’m hollow without her. Just barely existing. I know that now.
And while I know that what we’re doing is right—that this is the way it has to be until Cade is stopped—I also know that when this is over, there will be no more shutting her out of my life. The last few days without her were hell, with thoughts of her haunting me at every turn.
If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll find a way to make this work.
Or die trying, anyway.
I find her eyes once again. Realizing she’s waiting for me to react to her news, I say, “Oh, and I’m yours.”
“Really?” She cocks her head in a way that encourages a spray of curls to fall across her cheek. And it takes all of my strength not to pull her tightly to me and sink into the softness of her. “Well, actually, Lita drew your name, not me. But then she asked me to trade, so I did.”
“Lita pulled the same thing on me.” My eyes fix on her mouth—those soft inviting lips I ache to taste again and again. “I hear she puts her name in twice so she can spend the money on herself.”
“So the whole thing was rigged?” Daire grins in a way that’s infectious. “And here I thought it was fated.” Her eyes move over me, leaving a trail of warmth that starts at my head and wanders all the way to my feet.
“This is really beautiful.” My voice sounds hoarse, unused. “I can’t think of a better gift than to find you waiting at the end of a candlelit path.”
“I’m not your gift.” She smiles. “I’m not that poetic.”
“No?” I take another look around. “Could’ve fooled me.”
“This is your gift.” She hooks a thumb toward the chain-link fence at her back.
I squint, try to think of a reply, but its meaning is lost. So I go the jokey route and say, “I’m pretty sure you’ve gone way past the twenty-dollar limit. The permits alone—” My words halted by the finger she presses to my lips.
“Not the fence, silly—this.” She flicks the small golden lock that’s fixed to one of the links.
Still, I look at her. Not really getting it—but not caring either. My lips burn from her touch. It’s all I can think about.
“You probably don’t realize it, but today marks six weeks since we first got together. And, well, I wanted to observe it in some way. This is pretty much a first for me.”
“It’s a first for me too.” I want so badly to kiss her, right here, right now. But something tells me to wait. There’s still more to say.
“Is that because you’re usually long gone by this point?” She chases the words with a grin, but it doesn’t take much to spot the vein of worry that pulses just underneath.
“That’s Cade’s game, not mine,” I say, hoping to convince her I will do whatever it takes to be with her—now and forever. I was a fool that night in my kitchen. I won’t be anymore.
She nods, takes a deep breath, and says, “Anyway, I wanted to do something special, and then I remembered this.”
She points to the lock again, but I still don’t get the significance.
“There’s a place in Paris with an old chain-link fence, much like this one.” She hooks her finger around one of the links and rattles it for emphasis—the move, along with her words, leaving me even more perplexed than before. “Only that fence, the one in Paris, is completely covered with locks. The entire thing is crammed chock full of locks of all kinds. And, well, it’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. Or at least it is once you realize what it is the locks symbolize.”
I look at her, clueless as to where this is going.
“It’s a fence for lovers.” Her voice softens. “It’s a place where couples go to declare their love for each other. As a show of devotion, they attach the lock to the fence, and then each person gets a key. If at any point one of them decides their feelings have changed, they’re free to use their key to remove the lock. But from the looks of that fence, it rarely happens.” She stares down at her feet, taking a moment to collect her thoughts. “So, I guess what I’m trying to say is—I’m declaring my love for you. And this lock, on this fence, is a symbol of that love. I love you, Dace Whitefeather, and whether we’re together or apart, it doesn’t change the essential truth. If there’s one thing I’ve discovered over the last few days, it’s that suppressing my love for you doesn’t make it go away or weaken it in the slightest.” Her lips lift, but her eyes suggest the tinge of sadness that dwells just under the surface. “I know what we’re up against, and I know you know too. But—” She takes a deep breath, and it’s all I can do to stand patiently before her, not crush my lips to hers. “But the thing is, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to be tog
ether. And, well, I was hoping you feel the same. But in case you’re not on board…”
She dips inside her top, retrieving one of two long black cords with a small gold key attached to its end, which she’s quick to drape around my neck. Leaving it to lie against my chest, just like the one that she wears.
