I carried her to her room.
Blanketed in darkness.
Counting my sins.
And when her eyes flickered open, I sat her on her bed and looked away; I couldn’t stomach looking at her in the eyes, seeing the betrayal there, as if I’d singlehandedly plotted her downfall up until this point.
“Go,” she whispered, her voice hoarse, cracking at the end like she was just barely holding it in. “I quit.”
“Don’t.” I reached for her hand then stopped halfway across the duvet. My hands felt frozen, paralyzed, in need of hers, in want of her warmth, and all I had was the cool touch of the bed. “Don’t quit.”
“As you know, my dad was a bad man. He murdered my mom, took his own life, and basically gave me away. And then I got taken in,” she said so wistfully I wanted to hug her. “I thought maybe things were taking a turn for the better, I mean getting fostered out? Adopted even at my age? Miracle.” She let out a long sigh. “She told me about the great Abandonato Family, about how they protect their own, how even in the midst of darkness, your dad, the great Chase Abandonato, did the right thing—he set the broken free. And I knew, I just knew if I saw your family, touched someone, said something, that my dreams would come true. The ones my mom placed there. Not dreams of being rich or famous, no, I just wanted, I just wanted to feel safe.” Her voice quivered. “It’s amazing how far you’re willing to crawl through the mud just to hear that word, feel that protection…” Her voice cracked again. “And then I met you, and you were this larger than life… thing. Strong. Intense. Beautiful. Mean.”
“Annie.”
“No, let me finish.” She moved on the bed, by my calculations, probably away from me. Away from my warmth. My protection. My arms. “I saw you, really saw you. And I knew that no matter what, you’d protect, you’d kill for blood, so even when you were mean, even when you made me cry when all I wanted was to be loved. I told myself it was okay because I was safe.”
I hated myself.
I hated everything about me in that moment.
The man I was.
The man I’d become.
All for what?
“But now…” She let out a shaky breath. “Now I know… I’ll never be safe, protected, always alone, and that’s okay because it’s worse when you hope. Worse when I see you every day and imagine a world where I have someone fighting with me, side by side, someone who, regardless of how violent—would protect me like my mom said. Maybe that’s the danger with your stupid white horses… men come riding in on them pretending to be your savior, and it’s too late… too late to realize that they were the villain the entire time.”
My body seized, afraid to breathe. “I was angry.”
“I know.”
“I wanted to hurt you.”
“I know.”
“That’s not me, not anymore.”
“People don’t change overnight, Ash. That’s still you—just muted by whatever you think we have.”
“Annie.” Panic edged its way into my voice. “Don’t do this.”
“I can forgive a lot of things, Ash. Betrayal is one thing… but you went a step further, didn’t you? You stole my hope.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “Annie Sinacore—sent to me. To us.”
“Annie Sinacore,” she repeated. “Deceased. Tired. Done.”
I stood then slowly turned to face her, letting my rage show on my face. “I blamed you. I hated you. And managed to love you at the same time. Two warring emotions in my soul. Two hearts. Guilt and shame. Right and wrong. So even if you quit me, I’m not quitting you. Maybe you’ve lost your hope, but that doesn’t mean I’ve lost mine. I will fight for you, Annie Sinacore. I will win you. This villain. This monster. This destructive King.”
“We’ll see.” Her whisper was cunning, angry.
“Yes,” I vowed. “We will.” I walked over to the door and flicked off the lights. “Sleep well tonight, because tomorrow we war.”
“What the hell do you think I’ve been doing, Ash Abandonato? Sitting out of the fight? Open your eyes—we’ve been in a war since the day I moved here, since the day I —”
She didn’t finish.
Thunder roared overhead.
Rain poured.
And a memory surfaced.
Of Annie yelling at me by the pool.
Of hot lips.
Cold nights.
“Say goodbye, Ash, you have to say it.” She clung to my skin, smelling like sunshine. “You must!”
“I can’t!”
“You must!”
I thrust into her and screamed her name. “Claire, Claire, Claire.”
With every thrust, her body relaxed into me, clung to me like a second skin.
And with one final moment of clarity. “Until the stars fall.”
“Until the stars fall,” I found myself saying under my breath.
Not to Claire.
But to Annie.
My Annie.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Death is the graduation of the soul.” — Sylvia Browne
Chase
“Are we going to talk about it?” Phoenix pulled out a chair next to me as I sipped my whiskey—neat.