Chapter 25
Elara
A small hotel between Cannes and Avignon is our newest hideout. It took just under a day to drive down here. Ryder took the liberty of bringing the string lights that I bought so I could put them up again here. This hotel and the town it’s in is ridiculously cozy. It gives picture perfect postcard vibes and I love it. We get settled in the room and I know it’s time to talk about what happened. “Ry?” I say, getting his attention. “I’m ready to talk about it now.” He nods, taking my hand and leading me to the bed. We lay down together and I rest my head on his chest while he plays with my hair.
“It’s Hartwell.” I say, looking at the wall. Ryder shifts his head to look at me, wide eyed. “What? What do you mean it’s Hartwell?” He asks. I take a deep breath before continuing. “Hartwell was there when I woke up. He admitted to using me as a scapegoat and how he’s pinning his crimes on me. He killed Bardot and Chanler. Maybe Holloway, too.” I say, flatly.
He scrunches his nose. “Chanler committed suicide, though.” I shake my head. “That’s how he wanted it to look. He put Bardot and Holloway on the case because he knew they’d confirm it was a suicide and not think anything of it.”
Ryder takes a moment to process the bombshell I just dropped and takes a deep breath. “Well, shit. I don’t know what to say. Or how to react, honestly.” He takes my hand that rests on his chest and runs his thumb over my knuckles. His voice carries concern as he asks, “How are you holding up?”
That’s a loaded question, so I just answer with the simple option, “I’m pissed. At him, but more at myself.” I reply. “This isn’t your fault, El. You didn’t know. We thought we could trust him.” He says, kissing my palm. He is right and I’m trying to believe that, truly, but it still stings.