Gorgeous Misery (Creeping Beautiful)

“I think the part about the Zero program is accurate. They were part of that. But whether or not Carter fathered them or had the time to mess with their heads? That’s another story. Especially for Lily, right? She was so small when you got her.”

“I need to find out. I can’t just walk away from this. And I have another problem too. I—” But I can’t get the words out.

“You what? Don’t make me wait for it, Merc. What?”

“I kinda… miss this stuff.”

“What?”

“I mean, if I meet these people, and do this job… I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop. I retired early. I’ve been a good father and husband for almost a whole decade now. I kept everyone safe. But if this turns out to be true—if these assholes like Carter are still out there and not in control—then I have to do something about it. I can’t walk away from that.”

Sasha sighs. “Well. You were right. You did have a damn good reason for bringing me here today.”

I nod and lean back in my seat.

But she doesn’t even know the half of it yet. And I’m not ready to tell her the rest.

I’m not ready to admit that I might want to save Carter Couture so I can get this shit done. And I’m certainly not going to tell her Nick and I might be teaming up against Adam in the near future.

All that shit is just… need-to-know.

And right now, she doesn’t need to know.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE - NICK

I say the words as we spin slowly in a circle of sunflowers. It is sweet, beautiful, perfect, and whole. It is everlasting, transcendent, exceptional, and extraordinary. It is remarkable, exquisite, priceless, and sublime. It is flawless, marvelous, divine, and sensational. It is heavenly, powerful, glorious, and delightful.

It is lovely.

It is majestic.

It is gorgeous.

And it is misery.

But I wouldn’t change a thing.

Wendy Gale isn’t the kind of girl you let go of. I think I’ve made my point on that. And maybe you don’t agree—whatever. I give no fucks what anyone else thinks about what I am doing. I did this and I take full responsibility.

Wendy is saying the words too. We repeat them over and over. Her voice is small and low like it was back in the beginning. We spin one more time and then I stop and she stops with me. Her eyes are distant as they look up at the sky.

Indie got a lot of things right about us, but she missed all the critical things that make us… us.

I’m not saying what we do in the sunflowers is the most important part about who and what Wendy and I are, because that would diminish how I feel about her. But the sunflowers are up there with us being curious travelers, lost wanderers, and professional killers.

But what we do in the sunflowers makes us a team.

And here’s the thing, OK? It’s not an excuse. I’m not defending myself. I don’t think I have anything to defend, but… here’s the thing.

I will do anything for her.

Anything.

I will literally blow up the entire fucking planet to save Wendy Gale.

Letting go has never been an option.

And when I found that book she stole from that library all those years ago, when she was just a child who barely knew anything about herself, I made a decision right then and there.

Look at what she scribbled on those pages.

Read it yourself.

Ten Zeroes, they go on a hunt in the night.

They run, and they scream, and they kick, and they bite.

But the island is small and the danger is great.

So the Zeroes give in and live out their fate.

They rounded us up and put us in pens.

They gave us all numbers and sold us to men.

They taught us to fight and be wicked and wild.

They split us apart to get rid of the child.

I am what’s left of the girl left behind.

I am strong, and skilled, and cunning, and wise.

I will never be weak, I will never deny

That work is my life and my master my prize.

I have words for her words and here they are:

Nasty, foul, disgusting, and rank.

Obscene, revolting, indecent, and vile.

Sick, repulsive, loathsome, and gross.

I could go on, and on, and on.

But I won’t. There’s no point.

I know what she is.

I know what she can do.

But I also know I can fix her.

So that’s what I did.

Wouldn’t you have done the same thing?

When I found that book, I made a choice. And when she showed up at her cabin on her seventeenth birthday—seventeen days after her life imploded—I knew what I had to do.

She wanted a cure, so I would be her cure.

I am her cure.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX - MERC

“We’re not driving to Louisiana. What the fuck is wrong with you people?” This is a serious question I’m asking. “We have a jet, Nick. Right out there in your fucking front yard. Why the hell would we waste an entire day and drive thirteen hundred miles when we can get there in two hours?”