Chapter 22
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
PHOENIX
Aubrey was still sleeping when I got up. I’d been so distracted with everything before that I hadn’t really had a chance to look around the place. My eyes flicked to the skull on the ground, to the sharp crack that ran through it, splitting it into three pieces.
The temptation I had to stomp on it until it was dust was very hard to resist. I picked it up instead, carefully slipping the pieces back together as best I could and sitting it on the bedside table with a frown.
I didn’t know how to fix it. I didn’t really know how to fix anything. All I could think about was the way Aubrey had looked at me when I was fucking him in the rain—wild-eyed and desperate, broken and begging me to break him more so the wounds could finally heal clean.
All I could think about was the way he’d stared at me when he put on my paint, like he was seeing something I’d never seen, someone I could never be.
Fuck.
Aubrey was confusing.
I pushed the thoughts aside and made my way to the back of the house.
It was bigger than anyone needed—multiple bedrooms, a kitchen, two bathrooms. At the top of a set of stairs, there was a door that looked like it led onto a balcony.
You could probably see the whole resort from there, and the thought made me grin.
A king observing his kingdom. I wanted it. When I opened the door, though, I realized I wasn’t alone.
Leaned up against the wall were two skeletons holding onto each other like they were the only things left in the world.
They were together on the balcony overlooking the water, like they’d wanted to die with the sunset.
Bony fingers were still entwined.
I ducked down—they had a metal box beside them, like they’d wanted to die with their keepsakes too. It only took a small bit of effort to break the rusty lock open so I could rifle through the contents.
There were rings inside—little plain-metal things—and a faded picture of two women holding hands.
And a letter with words scribbled across the top.
To Lyra, My Heart.
My eyes widened. There was no way this was the same Lyra in the letter Aubrey had in his bag.
There was no way those two women had made it here, had lived out their lives .
That they’d managed to find happiness in all the chaos, an escape from the rain.
There was no way… but they were here, holding each other… and the letter.
I unfolded it and started to read when a sound behind me made me pause—Aubrey, calling out my name.
I didn’t have to think when I stuffed the paper into the pocket of my pants. After the way he’d reacted to the skull, I was done giving Aubrey surprises.
I slipped it out of view as he came around the corner.
“What are you…” He trailed off when he realized what I’d found. “Oh.”
Something flickered across his face—emotions I couldn’t quite read. Pain. Agony… and a soft warmth that I didn’t understand. That warmth stayed there as he leaned down and picked up the picture I’d let fall to the ground. It stayed there when he stood again.
It trailed from his palm to mine when he brushed the back of his hand against my knuckles and entwined our fingers—a mirror of the dead women at our feet—and tugged gently.
“Let’s dig them a grave.”