Chapter 73 Rae
RAE
[Lock Screen — Rae Everett's iPhone]
Kir doesn’t try to make conversation as we ride back. He sits behind the wheel, eyes vacant, posture brittle. The glow from the dashboard illuminates his sharp features in pale blue light.
He looks younger like this. Less like a corporate prince and more like a tired soldier who’s wasted away his life fighting a war he never asked for.
I ought to hate him, shouldn’t I? Yeah, I think I should. I probably will, eventually, once I have the energy for it. But right now, all I can muster is a dull, throbbing numbness that’s settled into my bones like a low-grade fever.
We park and take the elevator up. When we reach the apartment door, Kir produces the key and unlocks it. He pushes it open but doesn’t follow me inside.
“I’ll have someone bring food in the morning,” he says. “Get some sleep.”
I don’t respond or even look at him. I just walk through the door and let it swing shut behind me.
Gideon is exactly where I left him, perched on the edge of the couch like he’s been waiting in the same spot this whole time. Like before, his head snaps up the moment I step inside. Whatever he sees on my face makes the color drain from his.
“Rae?” He’s on his feet in an instant, jogging across the room toward me. “What happened? What did he show you?”
I could explain, and I’d like to. The words are there, somewhere, tangled up with all the hurt and humiliation. But every time I try to grab hold of them, they slip through my fingers.
Did you ever love her?
No.
She was a distraction. Nothing more.
My face crumples. I don’t mean for it to happen here, in front of him. I’ve been trying so hard to hold it together, to be strong. I’m supposed to be the big sister who has all the answers. That’s what I promised Mom, after all.
But my body betrays me, and suddenly, I’m crying so hard I can’t breathe.
Gideon doesn’t ask any more questions. He just opens his arms, and I collapse into them.
He’s taller than me now—when did that happen? Somewhere in between the relapses and the treatment centers, my little brother grew up. His arms wrap around me, solid and warm, and I bury my face against his shoulder.
“Hey,” he murmurs into my hair. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”
That just makes me cry harder. Because didn’t Lukas promise me the same thing? He held me just like this, stroked my hair just like this, and whispered those exact same reassurances into the dark while I trembled against his chest.
I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of everything.
I’ve got you, sweetheart.
I’ve got you.
I’ve got you.
Lies, as it turns out. All of it, lies. They were nothing but pretty words designed to keep me pliant and willing, to make me think I was special when really I was just another toy in his collection.
Stupid, stupid girl.
Gideon doesn’t let go. He just holds me tighter, one hand rubbing slow circles on my back as I sob until my throat hurts and my eyes are swollen and there’s nothing left to cry out.
“I’m sorry,” I gasp against his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Gid. This is all my fault. You’re stuck here because of me, and—”
“Stop,” he interrupts. “Whatever this is, whatever happened, it’s not your fault. You hear me?”
I shake my head, but he pulls back just enough to cup my face in his hands. His brown eyes roam all over my face.
“Rae, you’ve spent the last six years taking care of me. You showed up every time I fucked up, even when I didn’t deserve it.” His thumbs stem the flow of my tears. “Let me take care of you for once. Okay? Just this once, let me be the strong one.”
More tears break loose. I nod, and Gideon pulls me back into his arms.
We stand there in that bland, anonymous apartment, two orphans clinging to each other in the wreckage of our lives. We might’ve stood there forever, if I didn’t feel my phone vibrate in my pocket.
I pull it out—and almost scream when I see who’s texted.
JILLIAN PIERCE
I know you hate me right now.
But they found something else with Elena’s remains.
You need to see this before anyone else does.