Half-Truths: New York Times Bestselling Author
Page 32
Chapter Forty-Nine
It had been two months since I was buried in the ground and left for dead. Two months since Hailey and Deacon’s arrest. One month since their conviction. Two months since dad and Ella Valentine were also arrested and both let go without so much as a slap on the wrist. Maybe Ella hadn’t been guilty after all. Who knew? I saw her once after the whole thing. She broke down in tears when she saw me and apologized for her daughter. She seemed like she meant it, but honestly, I didn’t care. It seemed like not much moved me these days. I didn’t cry. I barely ate. I barely participated in anything at all. Some days I hung around Logan and my apartment. I’d moved out of mine and taken all of my things to his. Some days, I hung out at The Lab, wandering the haunted halls, almost wishing something would jump out and scare me. Some days, I just sat in a dark room to test my bravery and see if I could handle it. The Eight thought I was crazy, though they didn’t say it and I knew they wouldn’t blame me if I was. I wasn’t. I was just trying to find myself again. Sometimes on the road to finding oneself, one must do crazy things.
Adam and Will, the guys who found me, came around often to check on me. I found it hard to believe that The Swords were as sinister as The Eight made them out to be, but then I remembered the coffins. Logan didn’t like when they came around without him being there. Logan didn’t like it when anyone tried to hang out with me without him being there. He was more paranoid than I was. He dragged me to all of his games and I was okay with that. Sometimes I took Max. Other times I took Celia and Max. Sometimes Nora went with me. I was never alone unless I was in my room in The Lab or our apartment when he was in practice. I didn’t like to be alone anymore. My brother was still recovering. He was getting stronger though and stayed at The Lab whenever he was in town.
Some days, like today, I sat outside in the little garden between the walls of The Lab, staring at the ivy, wondering when it would take over everything around it. I glanced at the door when it opened and watched as Logan walked out and over to me. He sat down in the chair beside me. On days like today, when my depression felt suffocating, I wish he’d just let me go, but like the ivy, he stayed. He grabbed my hand in his and kissed it, staying quiet as he sat there.
“You don’t have to stay,” I said, my voice hoarse. As much as I wanted to push him away, to keep him free of this darkness, I wanted him to stay. I needed to give him the option though. It felt selfish not to.
“Stay where?” he asked after a long moment.
“With me.” I met his gaze, his green eyes rivaled the ivy behind him.
“Where would I go?”
I shrugged a shoulder. “Somewhere happy.”
“Somewhere happy.” The side of his mouth pulled up. “You are my happy.”
“I can’t . . . I can’t just expect you to put up with this,” I whispered. “You can find another girl. One with less . . . baggage.”
“Oh, Mae.” He sighed heavily. “When I’m not with you, you’re all I think about, to the point that I just want to leave whatever I’m doing to come right back to you. I wouldn’t go find someone else. There is no one else.”
“But I’m sad.” I blinked. My eyes filled with tears again. “All the time. All the time I’m just . . . sad.”
“Yet you’re still my happy.”
I shook my head. The tears began trickling down my cheeks.
“I’m never leaving,” he said.
“You should.”
He turned his body toward me, grabbing both hands in his. I turned mine toward his, squeezing my legs between his.
“You’re my family. You’re my blood.” He brought up my right hand and kissed the palm, where my scar was already fading, but the pledge would forever stay. “I love you.”
I started to cry then, gasping sobs pushing out of my chest. I loved him so much. Logan wrapped his arms around me and pressed me to him. I tucked my face into his neck and sobbed harder, big fat tears falling down my face. It felt like I’d finally opened myself up to the possibility of letting go of the sadness I’d been carrying. I wasn’t stupid though, I knew sadness came in waves, and just as it was leaving me now, it would be back.
“I want you forever, Amelia,” he said against my hair. “And forevermore after that.”
Epilogue
Logan
It had been six months. Two of Amelia dwelling in her sadness and four of her taking action and refusing to succumb to it. She’d been seeing a therapist. We’d all seen the damn therapist. She was against going in the beginning, so I signed up with her. And then Nolan signed up. And then Nora did. And then Marcus. And Lincoln. And Annette and Beatriz all the way in Scotland said they would as well if we thought it would help. So, we were all going to therapy once a week. I went for her, but stayed for myself. I hadn’t even realized how much I needed it. Old trauma has a way of living in the cracks and waiting for the least expected time to show up.
Felipe Bastón hadn’t come around. Nor had Ella Valentine. They were both absent in the yearly holiday gala and even though the whispers around the room had been about them, their presence hadn’t been missed. I tried to put a petition in to have them removed from the board, but it was knocked down before it could even reach any of the other board member’s desk. It didn’t surprise me. There was money, and then there was money. As long as they weren’t hurting innocent people, the current Eight was okay with it, and from what we could tell, the only ones who had been hurt throughout all of this were the ones with ties to Felipe Bastón directly—Lana, Lincoln, and Amelia.
Felipe didn’t have much left, aside from his billions, but what good was that if you had nobody who loved you to share it with? His wife filed for divorce. His sons were at odds with him. Lincoln wouldn’t even speak to him. Soon enough, Amelia wouldn’t even share his last name. I was just waiting for the right time to put a ring on her finger. I wanted to do it in the hospital, but figured I should wait until she was herself again. These days, she was. She was back to taunting and flirting and was fully focused on writing for the paper until she graduated in four months. She’d already received two job offers, and even though she hadn’t said it, I could tell she was waiting for me to pick a city. I’d graduated after fall semester and was now waiting to see what teams were offering me. My agent had already gotten me an athletic clothing deal, and from that money alone, I could technically retire without having played one professional game. My agent said teams would have offered me a lot more, had I not chosen to attend Ellis and get my four-year degree. I didn’t care. I just needed enough money to afford me that cottage on a lake with my girl. Everything else was just the cherry on top.
Afterword
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