Chapter 37 #2
“I made sure she was locked in every night. I know how important that is to her. I unplugged her iron after she left for work. I once took her car from the gym parking lot to get its oil changed because she was two thousand miles overdue. Two thousand! That’s what the cameras let me do.”
Felicity’s expression is impassive. “Big fucking hero. Did she ask you to do any of that?”
My glare is my answer.
“Did you tell her you did any of that?”
More glaring.
“And what do you think she’d say if you told her everything you did for her ‘safety’? Would she be delighted to hear that while she was at work, you sorted her delicate white panties from her delicate red panties to be sure the colors wouldn’t run?”
“I never…” I fold my arms and look away. “I never did things like that, and I sure as hell never watched anything private.”
Felicity’s quiet for a moment.
“What’s her favorite bedtime snack? When she’s restless?”
“Animal cookies.” Now might not be the time to bring up how many boxes I’ve bought for her.
“And did she tell you this? At the mailboxes, maybe?”
“You know she didn’t.”
“Because…?”
“Because it never came up!”
“Or she didn’t want you to know that she hoovers a box a night when shit’s bad in her life. Do you know what else we call that?”
She stares at me until I answer.
“Private,” I say sullenly.
She smiles at me like the slow student in class is finally catching up.
“Just because you didn’t, like, install a camera in her shower head doesn’t mean you don’t see things she’d never share with a stranger or the weird guy next door.”
I open my mouth to tell her I was more than the weird guy next door, but I wasn’t, was I? At least, not in the beginning.
“Let me ask you this,” Fi says, folding her hands in her lap.
“What if a new client came to you and told you that her boyfriend put thirteen cameras in her house, recorded her, regularly broke in while she was gone? She’s upset and asking for help dealing with her PTSD.
Or say a woman arrives with that same story at your shelter: her ex-boyfriend has been watching her eat, knows when she cries, monitors her groceries.
” She leans forward and rests her chin on her hand. “What happens to that guy, Gomez?”
“You fucking know,” I say through gritted teeth.
“And what if the boyfriend says he was only trying to help? He loves her. He loves her thirteen whole cameras worth. Is his life expectancy different?”
My throat’s too tight to answer.
“Now let me ask you again: how are you and Greg not the same?”
Not committing Whitfield’s greatest sin doesn’t excuse everything else I’ve done. I get it now, far too late, and the realization is quicksand in my chest, swallowing my heart, my lungs, the blood in my veins.
“Now,” Felicity says primly, “about you knowing where I went to school.”
“Public records,” I say hoarsely. “Newspaper archives. None of it’s—”
I stop.
“Go on,” Felicity says. “None of it’s what?”
“Private,” I say with a sigh.
“He can be taught!”
She stands, her mouth twisting into a wry, sideways smile as Cosmo snuffles his way over to her.
She turns to leave, then hesitates and spins back around.
“Actually, there’s one big difference between you and Greg.”
My heart leaps, desperate for any consolation. “Yeah?”
She looks down at me thoughtfully. “You’re still breathing.” She bends to scratch Cosmo’s ears, then gives him a little butt pat to get him headed my way. He trots right over and collapses onto my foot, exhausted from his adventures.
“A gap in the fence, huh?” I ask.
“An itty-bitty one.” Felicity holds her thumb and pointer finger close together. “He’s a resourceful little guy.”
The gate flies open with no warning, and Rue comes charging in with her metallic rainbow knife clutched in her fist.
“Hugo Mohr, if you did something to my sister, I swear I’ll…” Her forward momentum falters when she sees the two of us and Cosmo around the fire. “Oh.”
“Good talk,” Felicity murmurs to me before she walks out the gate, pausing to squeeze Rue’s hand on the way past.
Rue. It’s been so long since I saw her.
She looks tired. She looks sad.
She looks like mine, even though I know now she’s not and never was.
I stand and cross the distance between us, unable to help myself. Her amber eyes are unreadable in the low light, and her blond hair is loose around her shoulders. I don’t know what she’s thinking, but her breath hitches when I come to a stop within touching distance of her.
“Rue,” I rasp out. “I…”
Fuck. What can I say? What can I possibly say to undo all the damage I’ve caused her?
“I hate myself for what I did to you.”
Her chin lifts. “Good.”
It’s what I expected. Still, I stare at her beautiful face, lit by the flames, and I let the words tumble out.
“I’ll do anything. Anything you want.” There’s no hiding my desperation. “I’ll kill every member of that fucking forum for you. I’ll cut out their eyes and bring them to you in a jar.”
She says nothing. She simply looks at me.
“Right.” My righteous fury sputters out under her scornful look. “That’s another thing you didn’t ask me to do.”
“If I wanted that done,” she says evenly, “I’d fucking do it.”
I fight the urge to fall to my knees in front of her and press my face into her stomach. God, she’s everything.
“How can I make it up to you?” I have to find a way.
Her lips tremble, but she presses them into a tight line.
“I wish there was something to make it all better. But there isn’t. You can’t.” She sucks in a shuddery breath. “I filled out an application for an apartment a few neighborhoods over. They called yesterday to tell me that it was approved. I can move two weeks from now.”
“Two weeks.”
She should’ve stabbed me. A knife to the heart would’ve hurt less.
“Please let me go, Hugo.” Her eyes meet mine, liquid in the firelight. “I have to put this all behind me, so please just let me go.”
My throat works as I try to swallow past the hard ball of guilt and misery that’s taken up residence there.
I love you. I’m sorry. Please let me try again. I’ll do it right this time. I won’t risk what we were starting to build.
But none of those things are what she needs from me. All I can do is give her this.
“Okay.” I nod jerkily. “Okay. You’re going to be fine, neighbor girl.”
She brushes a knuckle under her eye, catching the moisture there.
“I know.” She hauls in a deep breath. “I always am.”
I turn and stare into the darkness at the back of my yard so I don’t have to watch her leave.