Chapter 39
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Eve
Christian never came back to Rush House last night—and I wish I could say I was happy about that, but as each hour bled into the next, and the sun crept over the horizon, the ache in my chest only deepened, until I could barely breathe.
And fuck sleep. That wasn’t happening.
I’m sitting on Christian’s bed, staring down at the plain manila envelope he gave me, still too afraid to open it. During the night, I came close a couple of times, but the haunting echo of Christian’s words kept stopping me…
Your brother has been lying to you…
The sun is just creeping over the horizon, and the house has finally settled after the chaos of last night. I haven’t spoken to anyone, but when I got here last night, the police were just leaving. I watched from the window as Burning Crown members wandered back, one by one, all wide-eyed and shellshocked. Thank God there were no signs that anyone had been killed. No bodies. No ambulances. The gunshots must’ve been fired by the security team, warnings meant to drive off Sin’s crew.
A knock on the door startles me, and I scramble off the bed, hope and fear both taking root in my chest—is it Christian?
“What?” I call out.
The door swings open, revealing Christian on the other side, leaning casually against the doorframe, his hat turned backwards. There’s something off about him, though. He looks neutral, his beautiful face unreadable.
“Hey.” He pushes off the doorframe and steps into the room. But when I see the boho bracelets around his wrist, I realize it’s not Christian. It’s Lucas. They’re almost identical, aside from their hair and the way they move.
“Lucas,” I say, releasing the trapped breath in my lungs. “What’s up?”
“I heard through the grapevine that you’re free to go,” he says. “Need a lift? I can take you wherever you want to go.”
I’m immediately suspicious of how helpful he’s being. The Sacred Sons aren’t helpful. They’re ruthless. They’re calculating. They’d only “help” if it was in their own self-interest.
I lift a brow. “Why are you helping me?”
His eyes narrow briefly, and he laughs under his breath. “You know, you’re way smarter than people think.”
“Wow. Rude,” I say, flustered by how much he looks like Christian—the same pale eyes, the same exact fuck-me face. It’s unsettling.
“To answer your question, I’m helping you because I need you gone. This shit with you and my brother has spiraled out of control, and the sooner you’re gone, the better it is for everyone.”
Yep, there it is. That signature self-interest.
“Something we agree on,” I say flatly. “I just need to throw my stuff in my bag, and I’ll be ready.”
“Cool,” he replies. “I’ll be downstairs.”
When he’s gone, I start shoving things into my duffel bag—my clothes from the closet, toiletries from the bathroom, the manila envelope. I’m careful with my mom’s gift, though, gently wrapping it between my softest t-shirts so the wrapping paper won’t tear.
Heaviness settles in my chest as I scan the room one last time, looking for anything I may have forgotten. The necklace Christian gave me is lying on the desk, exactly where I left it a few days ago. Picking it up, I hold it in my palm, a deep sadness settling over me. It’s like there’s this hole inside my chest that just keeps getting wider and deeper when I think about Christian…
With a gulp, I close my hand around the necklace and shove it into the pocket of my shorts. It’s mine, right? He gave it to me, and I’m sure it’s worth a lot of money. I’d be dumb to leave it behind.
I find Lucas in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, scowling down at his phone. He glances up at me as I walk in. “Ready?” he says, taking my bag.
“Where’s Wyn?” I ask.
From what I’ve seen lately, Lucas and Wyn are damn near inseparable. I’d assumed she was coming with us.
He flicks his chin toward the stairs. “She’s upstairs, still sleeping.”
“Oh.”
Me, alone with Lucas? Great. This car ride won’t be awkward at all.
In the car, he starts the engine and turns to me from the driver’s seat. “Where to?”
In that moment, I realize I don’t really have anywhere to go. I could go to Sin’s place, but it’s probably not a good idea to have Lucas drop me off there. After last night, God knows what could pop off if Sin and Lucas end up seeing each other.
“The nearest motel is cool, thanks.”
With a nod, he pulls out of the long driveway, and we head toward the main road. I turn to look out the window, my entire body stiff, tense. I’m terrified he’s going to bring up the topic of Christian. I’m really not in the headspace to go there right now.
A few minutes into the drive, Lucas pulls off the road and into a beach parking lot.
“Why are we stopping here?” I ask, glancing at Lucas. He looks casual, completely at ease. “I’m pointing out the obvious here, but this isn’t a motel.”
Shutting the car off, he turns to me with a placid smile. Fuck, I still can’t get over how much he looks like Christian. I realize that’s what the whole twin thing is, but when the person in front of me looks like someone I love/hate…yeah, it fucks with me. My eyes drop to my lap.
“I thought we could chat for a few before I take you to the motel.”
Chat? What are we, friends catching up?
“What’s there to chat about?” I ask. “I’m leaving. This whole thing is over.”
He opens the driver’s side door. “Humor me.”
Honestly, chatting with Lucas West is the absolute last thing I want to do right now. I just want to bury my head in a pillow and cry until I can’t breathe—is that so much to ask?
But if Lucas is anything like Christian, he’s not going to let this go. So in the interest of getting this the fuck over with, I get out of the car and follow him down to the sand.
It’s early, and the beach is all but deserted at this hour. I remove my flip-flops and let them dangle from my fingers as we trudge down to the water’s edge.
Lucas stops just short of the water and stares out at the ocean, hands in his pockets. “They say twins have a special connection,” he says, not looking at me. “They understand each other on a level that other people don’t get...”
Ummm…okay? Why is he telling me this?
“Yeah, I saw that documentary, too,” I say sarcastically, pulling the sleeves of my oversized hoodie over my freezing hands. I’m wearing shorts under the hoodie, and my legs are already popsicles.
He sighs. “The moment you walked into the study at Rush House and offered yourself up, I knew what my brother was feeling. I knew what he was thinking…” He drops his head and looks at me. “Because we’re the same. We have the same fucked up darkness inside us…”
“Right,” I say slowly, because what the fuck am I supposed to say to a statement like that?
“I’d hoped I was wrong, being paranoid, or whatever. Maybe he could maintain control.” He shrugs. “But that didn’t happen, and I blame myself for that. I should have followed my gut and turned you away at the door…”
I watch Lucas’ face, confused as to why he brought me here. Why does any of this matter now?
“Well, I’m leaving, so you don’t have to worry about it. You’ll never see my face again.”
He lets out a chuckle and shakes his head. “God, I wish that were true. But you’re in his head now, Eve, and I know from experience that doesn’t just go away. Not for guys like us.”
“Are you saying he’ll come after me?” I ask, emotion lodged in my throat. Do I want that? I don’t even know. All I know is that the thought of being separated from Christian forever, even after everything, feels heavy. Wrong, somehow.
I clearly need therapy.
He shrugs and looks back out at the ocean. “He’ll probably convince himself you’re better off without him,” he says. “For a while, at least. But that won’t hold for long. Sooner or later, he’ll go looking for you…”
I swallow and drop my gaze to the sand, watching the water creep toward my toes. “I don’t know why you’re telling me all this…”
“Because I can’t let that happen,” he says simply.
“So, what, you’re going to buy me a ticket to Iceland or something?” I laugh. “I’m supposed to uproot my whole life because Christian can’t stay away? That sounds like a him problem.”
Lucas doesn’t say anything initially, but after a few awkward seconds, he turns to me. “I don’t like doing this,” he says with a heavy sigh, his features softening. “But sometimes we have to do the hard thing, so the person we love doesn’t destroy themselves…”
The hard thing ? What the fuck?—?
Before I can even finish the thought, Lucas’s hands are on me, and he’s dragging me out into the ocean. Ice-cold water splashes against my shins, my knees, my thighs as he drags me in deeper.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I scream, burying my nails in his arm, trying to get him to release me. He doesn’t even flinch, his face a mask of cold, sinister determination.
“I’m sorry, Eve. Seriously,” he says, grappling with me, trying to push me under the cresting waves. My mind scrambles as the salty water rises up to claim me, enveloping me, snatching the air from my lungs.
This is it. I know it is. There’s a cold certainty that comes with dying. My body’s still fighting—kicking, clawing, gasping every time my face breaks the surface—but my mind has already accepted my fate. I’m about to become another faceless victim of the Burning Crown.
Just like my mother…