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Trap waits until the front door closes before he runs a hand over his face. His eyes are closed, and fatigue is etched across his features. His shoulders slump, and for just a moment I can see the twelve-year-old boy who learned the depths of the world’s cruelty in a diamond mine camp in the middle of Congo.
I’m the one who’s putting him through this. I’m the reason he’s pushing Mr. Asher so hard. If I hadn’t killed Herzog, Trap wouldn’t be facing insane demands for his money. He wouldn’t be at risk of losing the freeport.
Fifteen minutes ago, I was trying to decide if I should move my belongings into Trap’s bedroom. Now, I’m waiting for him to go to the freeport’s office building so I can pack up my things and get the hell out of his life.
“Don’t,” Trap says.
“Don’t what?” I try to keep my tone light. I fail.
“Don’t leave.”
“I’m not going to—”
“Don’t lie.”
I swallow my immediate denial. How can he read my mind? But that’s the bond between us, something powerful, something magical. It’s been there from the moment I saw him outside Debasement. It’s the reason I threw away my rulebook, why I dared to go home with him, why I found my freedom in his bed.
It’s why I love him.
That’s why it kills me to hurt him. But I have to say, “Let’s be logical. We’re both better off if I’m not here.”
“How the fuck am I better off?”
I gape, because the answer is so freaking obvious. “If not for me, you wouldn’t have two murderous drug lords blackmailing you and trying to turn your business into a drug distribution center for the entire east coast of the United States.”
He makes a sound like a broken buzzer. “Bad answer.”
“It’s the truth!”
“The Herzogs smell blood in the water. Even if you disappear tomorrow, they aren’t going anywhere.”
“But the video shows me—”
“The video showsme,” he interrupts. “Sitting at the head of the table. Watching. Doing absolutely nothing to stop you. And they sent us what? Five minutes of tape? They’ve got hours, Princess. They have a complete record of everything that happened after Kelly hauled your ass upstairs. They know I consulted with Best and Wolf. They know I opened the door to Best’s dark army. They know I allowed every hint of blood to be scrubbed from my home, without reaching out to the police, the FBI, anyone. They’ve got a complete record, up to the minute Best found the goddamn cameras.”
He’s right.
I know he’s right. But I still want to protect him. I want to go back in time, to the first night I spent here. I want to make the world safe for both of us, forever.
“Make me a promise,” Trap says.
I’m smart enough not to agree without knowing the stakes. “What?” I ask.
“Promise you won’t run away. No matter how much you want to. No matter how much it seems like a solution.”
It should be easy to agree. It feels impossible.
The soundtrack in my head is relentless: I’m broken. I’m damaged. I ruin everything I touch.
I’m ruining something now, just by staying silent. I can see the pain in Trap’s face. I can see him fighting to find words he doesn’t want to say. “Jesus, Alix. You spent two weeks in a fleabag hotel, and I thought I’d go crazy. I spent hours online, checking my credit card to make sure you hadn’t left town. I drove by that rat-trap every night, just to make sure my car was still in the parking lot. Don’t put me through that again. Don’t putusthrough that again.”
Us.
I’ve never been part of anusbefore. Not like this.
The closest was the bond I shared with my brother. I took Leo’s side in countless arguments with my family, with my friends. And Leo disappointed me every single time. Even his dying was a disappointment. I never got to hear his twisted justification for why he sold me to Herzog.
But Trap is nothing like Leo.
