Firefly

by Molly McAdams

  I wasn’t working. I couldn’t. And the people who needed me were all gathered together, grieving.

  But I could only handle their grief for so long when I was the reason Johnny was dead . . . when part of me knew he’d been pushing and pushing for it, but another part hated myself for what I’d done.

  And despite it all, the ache in my chest was from so much more than my best friend no longer being in this world.

  It was for Gia.

  It was for a failed years-long revenge.

  It was for the loss of something so life-altering and consuming that each breath felt weighted and excruciating.

  So call me a masochist for coming here. I knew she wouldn’t be here . . . but I didn’t know how to stay away.

  This place was where she would always be real.

  I slid out of my car, my eyes lingering on the hood as I shut the door. Memories flooded me as I headed to the side entrance of Brooks, the entire time trying to tell myself to turn back around and get in my car.

  Go home. Go to the house. Just drive until I could never find my way back.

  I pushed out a pained breath and lifted my head, already knowing what I wouldn’t find at the booth she’d always sat in. Not that it made it any easier.

  I somehow managed to walk over to the empty booth and folded myself into the seat, letting my head drop into my hands as soon as I was settled.

  My body tensed when I heard someone sit on the other side, but before I could look up, a deep voice said, “You know, your information saved Teagan.”

  I lifted my head to find Beck watching me without a hint of anger or mockery, and cocked an eyebrow. “What?”

  “Lily told me everything,” he began, taking notice of the way I flinched at her name. “She told me she’s been coming here for breakfast for two years. Your notes to her. The street fair . . . all of it.”

  “That’s great, Beck. Today’s not—”

  “Breakfast with Teagan. Lily’s been having breakfast here with Teagan, one of her best friends since she was a kid, for two years.”

  “Is that the girl . . .?”

  “Who Mickey was gonna have stolen?” he asked, his expression darkening. “Yeah. She’s married to this abusive fuck, Finn. Him and his dad want to take over Holloway. Taking Teagan and selling her was Mickey’s way of shutting them up.”

  I sat up at Beck’s information. My mind raced, but all of my thoughts remained unspoken as I tried to sort them out. “Why are you here, Beck?”

  “I came home this morning and found my best friend looking like her life had been ripped from her. The last time I saw her like that, her brother had been killed right in front of her. Kieran should’ve been there for her after that, and he wasn’t. And as much as I hate to say it—and I fucking hate it—the guy she needs isn’t him anymore. But it’s up to you if you’re going to be there or not.”

  A sad huff tumbled from my mouth. “Have you forgotten who she is? I’ve spent the last four years hating her and blaming her for Gia—”

  “That right?” Beck growled, leaning over the table to get in my face. “If you want to blame and hate someone, it should be Mickey. Lily didn’t even know about your fiancée until a couple weeks ago.” Standing from the booth, he took a folded-up piece of paper from his pocket and tossed it at me. “You’ve been the source of her nightmares for four years. You were in the room and the reason Aric was murdered. She’s shared your hate and blame, and she somehow looked past that.”

  “What is this?”

  “It’s why I’m here. I fucking hate that the two of you were together. I hate what that did to Kieran. But she’s my best friend, and I know what you mean to her. She knew you were going to kill her, and she still wanted to spend time with you until you did.”

  I glanced at the paper like it had the power to destroy me, then slowly reached for it.

  “She wrote that before I picked her up at your place yesterday morning. Made me promise I’d find a way to give it to you today. I think she somehow knew what happened last night was coming.”

  Of course she’d known. She knew we’d already come looking for her once and she’d never stopped reminding me that there was an end to what we had.

  I grabbed Beck’s arm before he could walk away, and ignored the way he tensed in preparation for a fight I didn’t have the will for anymore.

  “Finn,” I murmured, my eyes finally sliding from the paper in my hand to Beck’s hardened stare. “My informant in Holloway about her.”

  A dark look crossed over Beck’s face, his jaw clenching before he nodded and stalked away.

  Once he was gone, I opened the letter, still unsure if I wanted to read whatever she’d written but unable to make myself stop.

  It was like tipping the glass back to get the last drop of whiskey. Compulsory and irresistible.

  And if this was the last drop of Elle, I wanted to devour it.

  So I did . . . again and again until I had her words memorized, and I was left wondering if it would ever be enough.

  I tilted my head when I heard a chair being dragged across the room to where I was, but I didn’t bother looking over my shoulder to see who it was.

  There was only one person who was that loud.

  Beck let out a sigh when he plopped into the chair next to mine to look out the windows.

  “I miss the window seat,” I mumbled.

  Mickey was refusing to let us move back into the guesthouse, even though my life was no longer in danger. Then again, I think this was his way of showing us that he still had control over us.

  Of showing me that he had control over me.

  “You know, now that I know everything . . . now that I know how bad it was for you with Kieran . . . I’ve been looking back on our lives a lot. I can’t remember ever finding you staring out a window before four years ago.”

  “I never felt like a prisoner before four years ago.”

  “You hadn’t felt like you’d lost Kieran,” he countered.

  I stilled and after a second nodded.

  “Lil, I can’t watch you go through another four years of this. How long are you gonna wait for him to come back before you realize he’s not?”

  I turned to look at him for the first time, pain spearing my chest. “It’s been three days. I waited for Kieran for four years. And I don’t—I don’t know how to stop waiting for him. You don’t understand what we had.”

  “Do you see how much pain you’re in?”

  “How much pain are you in?” I shot back. “How many years have you been waiting for her to stop selling herself, Beck?”

  His face fell and jaw clenched, but he didn’t respond.

  “You punish yourself by being there every night and ensuring she’ll continue to hate you, but I know deep down you’re still waiting. You’ll always be waiting for her. I don’t tell you to stop what you’re doing. I am trapped in this place, controlled by a man I despise, and all I can do is look out a damn window. So let me look and hope and wait.”

  He dipped his head in a reluctant nod and squeezed my arm with his large hand. “Can I look out the window with you, Lil?”

  A soft, sad laugh left my lips as I settled back in my chair. “Yeah, Beck.”

  We sat in silence for a long time, thoughts swirling through my mind of Dare and Kieran, of Gia and the girl Beck would always wait for, of Einstein and Johnny, of Teagan . . . so many heartaches, and it wasn’t even the beginning.

  “Maybe these are the lives we’re meant to have. Maybe this is our atonement for being born to monsters or choosing to step into this world no one sees. We can’t have love, but we’ll always chase it. And as soon as we touch it, grasp it, feel the warmth of it . . . it’s destroyed.”

  “Do you really believe that?” he asked, his tone curious instead of mocking.

  I rubbed at my aching chest and looked at my best friend. “I wonder if I’m beginning to.”

  “So if he came back . . .”

  “I would let my heart be
destroyed a thousand times if it meant a thousand more days with him.”

  I walked into the girls’ apartment, my steps slowing and eyes narrowing in suspicion when I found the twins in the living room with Libby.

  We’d all moved back to our own places a few days after Johnny’s death. I doubted anyone was coming after my family . . . if anything, Kieran would come after me. And I wouldn’t be able to blame him when he did.

  But that hadn’t stopped the near-constant calls from everyone. They wanted to know if I was okay. They wanted to know what our next move was. They had dozens of questions I didn’t have the answers to.

  I’d turned my back on the girl I needed to breathe.

  I’d killed my best friend and buried him next to Gia.

  I was a fucking coward because I still couldn’t look Einstein in the eye.

  And I had a feeling I’d just walked in on my own intervention.

  Libby stood when she saw me, relief washing over her face as she rushed to me. “Talk to her. Please.”

  Not my intervention . . .

  “Libby, get over your shit with Mom and talk to her yourself.”

  “Einstein,” she said, frustration lacing her tone. “She’s not okay, Dare.”

  I stared at her for long seconds, my chest heaving with a dry laugh. “Of course she’s not okay. Johnny hasn’t even been dead five days. We buried him this morning. What do you expect—?”

  “She hasn’t eaten in . . .” She turned to the twins, but neither answered. “I don’t know when she last ate. She won’t sleep. She’s obsessing over work to distract herself, but it’s going to kill her. Didn’t you see her today?”

  My mouth opened but no response came out, because in avoiding looking her in the eye, I’d avoided looking at her at all.

  Libby’s mouth formed a tight line, and with two large steps to close the distance between us, she pressed her hands to my chest and shoved me back. “You’re not the only one hurting,” she hissed, moving to shove me again. “You’re not the only one who lost someone. Your family needs you, you can’t just check out because you were too stupid to see the signs and got your heart broken.”

  I grabbed her wrists when she tried to push me again. “What do you want me to do? You’re all grieving someone I killed. Einstein is mourning the loss of her boyfriend who I fucking killed, Libby.”

  “I want you to fix it. I want you to keep this family together the way you always have. Johnny was sick. He was insane. No one blames you, Dare, but you can’t just leave us when we need you.”

  “I would never leave any one of you, but that’s . . . fuck, Libby.” I dropped her arms and stepped back, my shoulders sagging. “I’m tired. I’m so goddamn tired. I’ve been trying to keep the entire family together since I was thirteen because it’s always been, ‘Dare will know what to do.’ I never knew what to fucking do. That role shouldn’t have been put on me then, and I don’t want it now. People are still dying, and we’re still neck deep in things I don’t want us in, and at some point I want all that to end. I don’t want to be Boss. I’ll never be Dad, and it’s exhausting trying to be.”

  “I don’t want you to be Boss,” she mumbled, her eyes darting to the floor.

  A weighted breath puffed from my chest. “For someone who rebels from this life so much, you seem to push me toward it.”

  “I wouldn’t call it rebelling, per se,” she said with a shrug. “More like fleeing with flare.”

  The corner of my mouth twitched up and my eyes rolled. “You’re an idiot.” Stepping toward her, I hooked my arm around her neck and pulled her in for a hug. “All right, let me go check on the genius.”

  Maverick stood, his face somber. “I’ll come.”

  “No, I’ve got it. I don’t want her to feel like we’re ganging up on her.” Rubbing the back of my neck, I sighed. “Besides, I’ve been avoiding this talk.”

  I walked through the apartment to Einstein’s room and almost didn’t knock on the door when there was absolute silence on the other side.

  I turned, not surprised to find Libby and the twins just a few feet from behind me.

  “She’s awake. Trust me, just go in,” Libby said, not bothering to whisper.

  And when I opened the door, I found out why.

  Einstein was sitting at her desk with her noise-cancelling headphones on. All three of her screens were up and running, her fingers twitching over one before she threw her headphones off, music screaming out of them, and shoved from the desk to run to the bed.

  She didn’t even notice us standing in the door as she snatched her tablet up and hurried back to the desk.

  But I saw her.

  She looked haggard.

  She looked sick.

  And it was my fault.

  Maverick tried to push through, but I held up a hand to stop him then slowly entered the room.

  I rapped my knuckles along her desk as I moved closer so she would feel the vibration and know I was there, and saw her jerk just before I tentatively reached out to touch her shoulder.

  She threw the headphones onto the desk again and whipped her head up to look at me, her eyes crazed. “Dare, look at this,” she said breathlessly, her glazed stare moving back to the screens.

  “Einstein—”

  “See what he’s doing? He’s got a tail following Kier—”

  “Einstein.”

  “—and he’s gonna pin him for taking that girl—”

  I grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look at me. “Einstein!”

  Her chest moved up and down rapidly as she stared at me, her cheeks sunken in and eyes hollow.

  “You’ve gotta stop,” I said softly, gently. “You need to eat something and sleep.”

  She tried to gesture to the computers. “But can’t you see what’s—”

  “I don’t care. I care that you’re going to kill yourself if you don’t stop.”

  Her eyes darted around us, her head shaking so fast I wasn’t sure she knew she was doing it. She stood so quickly that I lost my hold on her. “There’s something else,” she whispered, then bent, snatching wildly at crumpled papers on the floor before throwing herself back in her chair. “Look at this. Mickey’s changing his pattern—”

  I grabbed her out of the chair, wrapping my arms around her as tight as I could manage. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, my words twisted with grief. “I’m so fucking sorry, Einstein. I’m sorry.”

  I repeated my apology until she buried her face in my neck, her body heaving with her sobs.

  “I tried—I tried to figure him out. I tried to fix him, and I couldn’t fix him,” she cried. “I tried . . . I did. There was something missing and I couldn’t find it, but I tried. I tried so hard.”

  Tears stung my eyes and my chest burned with pain. “I tried too. But you can’t fix someone like that. You can’t change them.”

  “I could’ve,” she insisted.

  I glanced over my shoulder when I felt someone come up behind me and saw Maverick anxiously shifting his weight and looking at Einstein helplessly. After a pleading glance at me, I turned and transferred her to his arms.

  His eyes shut like he was in pain as he cradled her close, stepping back to lower them onto the bed with his back against the headboard.

  As Einstein sobbed against his chest, I had a feeling Maverick’s pain was stemming from hers rather than Johnny’s death.

  And I didn’t know what to make of it.

  I started to look for Libby, but my eyes caught on one of Einstein’s screens as Diggs stood there, quietly shutting everything down.

  “Wait,” I said softly, studying what she’d been trying to show me before I gave him a nod.

  I stepped back, my heart seizing when I glanced down and saw a picture of Lily peeking out under a few papers.

  It was the picture Einstein had snuck to try to find out who Elle was.

  That smile . . .

  Goddamn firefly.

  “I could’ve been what he needed to help him ou
t of the dark,” Einstein murmured, her voice dragging.

  I turned, my gaze snapping to Einstein. “What’d you just say?”

  Maverick slanted a glare at me, and Einstein lifted her head, her bloodshot eyes blinking slowly. “Johnny. He said it was dark in his head and sometimes he didn’t know how to find a way out.”

  Maverick whispered something to her, and no sooner had her head rolled back to his chest than her eyes closed and her breathing evened out.

  “You good?” I asked.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly, burrowing down against the headboard.

  I watched for another second before pulling my attention to Diggs and Libby, my brows pulling together. “Let’s go talk.”

  As soon as we got out into the living room, I said, “I need to go take care of what Einstein was trying to warn me about. When I get back, we’ll figure out a plan to put all this Holloway shit to bed for good. If Einstein wakes up before I get back, make her eat. Now that . . .” I gestured back toward Einstein’s room, but Libby spoke before I could continue.

  “Let him be there for her.”

  “Johnny’s been in the ground for about four hours,” I reminded her.

  “He’s not doing anything,” Diggs mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets as he turned to go sit on the couch.

  “Maverick’s been in love with Einstein forever, Dare,” Libby said, her voice soft. “You ever notice he’s near her if they’re in the same room, even when Johnny was? And he was always there for her whenever Johnny went dark, but he’s not acting on anything. He knows she loved Johnny.”

  I ran my hands through my hair and over my face, groaning as I did. “Where was I when all this happened?”

  Libby shrugged. “Holding everything together.”

  Even after six years working together, it never stopped being fucking creepy the way he was able to materialize from the shadows.

  He didn’t say anything, just stood there with his arms tensed at his sides, waiting to see what my first move would be.

  “Mickey’s having you watched. Closely.”

  “I know.”

  I rolled my eyes. Of course he did. “If you already know why, tell me now so I don’t waste my time.” I took his silence as his response, and said, “He thinks you’re the reason behind Teagan getting away.”