I cut off another piece of waffle and bring it to his lips. “Tell me what secrets James kept.”
He opens his mouth and I place the food on his tongue, unable to stop watching his lips as they close around the fork. I pull it away and have to remind myself to breathe.
He points to the plate. “How about I feed you? You eat, and I’ll talk.”
I’m surprised it’s so easy to get the answers I’m looking for, but I’m in no position to argue, so I nod and hand him the fork.
He cuts off a piece of waffle and brings it to my mouth. I open for him, but at the last second he leans in and kisses me. He tastes like syrup and pastry. He tastes like breakfast with someone you love. He tastes like the life I wish I had. A normal life with no secrets. I’ve never wanted secrets. I’ve never wanted to know them. All my life I’ve been running from the facts, and now here I am, begging for them.
“You have to kiss me after every secret,” he whispers into my mouth. “You have to kiss me when I tell you these things or I won’t be able to do it.” And then he pulls back and brings the fork forward. I open my mouth for the food and he places it on my tongue until I grab it with my teeth and begin to chew.
“Say yes to that, Harper Tate, and I’ll tell you everything you think you want to know for the price of a kiss.”
I nod. I know the kiss is wrong, but it doesn’t feel wrong right now. It feels right in every way imaginable. “OK,” I whisper back.
“Nicola was given away when she was six. And James was the one who gave her away.” Vincent watches me for a reaction, but all I can do is stare into his eyes. “One knew he was never going to get a promise, so he asked James to give him his sister.”
“But… he told me that his mother and father gave her away. He told me—”
“He lied.” It cuts me off, that’s how forceful the declaration is. “He lies a lot, Harper. Even to you. Especially to you. He lies to himself too. The notebook was a lie, Harper. A delusional, fake world he talked himself into believing... because he couldn’t cope with the truth.”
The last few words come out soft. Almost a whisper. “What’s the truth, Vincent.”
He stares at me. Perhaps considering if this is a time to tell the truth or lie. But then he lets out a breath and I know what’s coming is the truth. “The truth that he got what he asked for. He chose that life and he got everything that came with it.”
“And his sister? What’s the truth about her?”
“James gave his sister away to One to pay his debt. That’s secret number one and now I get a kiss.” Vincent leans in and brushes his lips against mine. Softly. Like his words. Tenderly. Like his touch. It’s not demanding and harsh. It’s almost begging for forgiveness. “You don’t want James. You want Vincent.”
I push him back and shake my head. “He must’ve known she’d be taken care of, though. That One would take care of her.”
Vincent tries to smile and fails, so he cuts off another piece of waffle and feeds it to me instead. I chew slowly, trying to figure out what it is we’re doing here.
“Do you want more?”
“Yes,” I say. “If there’s more, I should know.”
He tips his chin up a little like that stung him. I’m sure he was counting on that driving a wedge between me and my love for James, but it can’t be the whole story. There has to be more.
“I need to hear it all,” I say. “If it’s all been a lie, then I need the truth. I can’t make decisions based on lies.”
“I know that,” he says, looking back down at the food. “That’s why I’m here.”
“So tell me the rest.”
“One trained her to fight. He trained her to kill. He trained her to lie, and steal, and cheat. He turned her into one of us. But before any of that could happen, the little girl needed to be comforted. She was ripped from her home. She was ripped from her family. She did nothing but cry for weeks. For months. And James was the one who settled her down.”
“How?” I picture this lost little girl, crying for her family. Locked away somewhere dark and scary.
“He told her lies, Harper. He lied to her for years and years. He told her how she would go home one day and see her family. He told her she’d live like a princess if she obeyed. He told her everything her little girl heart wanted to hear.”
“How old was James when he did this?”
Vincent shrugs as he presumably counts back the years. “It started at sixteen and went on until he was eighteen or nineteen, at least.”
“And that Nicola I met the other day? She’s the one?”
Vincent stares at me but says nothing.
“Because she looked fine to me. She sounded like a snooty rich girl, in fact. You said she’s an assassin. Good for her, I guess. So is Nick. So is James. It’s just a job, Vincent. Isn’t that what they always tell us? Everyone in the Company has a job. I have a job. I have to marry you and have babies. Did you ever ask me if I wanted to have babies? What if I don’t want to run board meetings? What if I’d rather be a marine biologist? Or a dog trainer? Maybe I’d rather be anything but this fucking girl sitting in this stupid industrial kitchen. Maybe Nicola has a better life as an assassin. Did you ever ask her? Maybe James did the right thing, getting her away from that wicked mother. Did that ever occur to you?”