21. TWENTY-ONE

TWENTY-ONE

I don't think it's been long—maybe a couple of hours—before I awake to the sound of the hotel room door slamming shut.

Before I have a chance to panic, I hear Declan's deep, hushed voice. I bury my face against Luca's back, my arm still draped over his body.

"I'd leave around eleven. It's a forty-minute drive," Declan says.

"Fine," Sebastian says.

"You sure you're going to bring her?"

"I'm not going to kill her or let her die."

"You know—"

"I'm done talking now."

Declan walks around the side of the bed. "Luca, wake up. We need to go—the sun will be up soon."

Luca gets out of bed, dresses, and throws his bag over his shoulder. I notice his cane sticking out of the top; he doesn't want to use it in front of Sebastian.

He watches Sebastian hang a garment bag in the closet, his lip turned up in disgust.

"What's that?" Luca asks him.

"It's a fucking suit—what do you think it is? I'm invited to the wedding."

"That's a joke, right?" Luca scoffs.

"No, not at all. The Townsends love me," Sebastian says. "I'm going to take a shower."

He pulls his shirt over his head before entering the bathroom, ensuring that Luca sees my full name carved into his chest before he turns away.

But Declan just stares at the mutilated skin on his back until the door closes behind him. I know what he's thinking—it could have been him.

"Luca…" I pull the cane out of the bag and hand it to him.

"Give me the bag, too," Declan says.

"I'm fine," Luca says. "I need to get used to it."

"No, you don't," he says, taking it from his shoulder. "Bye, sweetheart." He leans in and kisses me on the lips. "I love you. I'll see you so soon."

"I love you, too."

"I don't want to leave her with him," Luca says.

"She wants to go to the wedding and say goodbye," Declan tells him. "We can't stay—we need to get the plane ready. Besides, we can't risk being caught on camera the day she disappears. The police think you're dead and I'm in Russia, and they've stopped looking for me. I want to keep it that way. She'll be okay."

"Can I walk with you?" I ask.

"No, kitten. I'm sorry."

I sigh. "Not one single day, Luca." I stand on my toes and press my lips to his. "There's nothing wrong with you."

I meet Declan's eyes over Luca's shoulder. I wonder if he remembers telling me the same thing.

"I love you, Teagan," Luca says.

"I love you, too. B—"

"Don't say that. I'll see you tonight."

"Okay. See you tonight."

I walk them to the door, and when it closes behind them, I feel just a little more empty than I was before.

A little afraid, too.

Shortly after I crawl back into bed, Sebastian emerges from the bathroom. I watch in the dark as he dresses and pours himself a glass of water before lying on the small sofa.

"Sebastian? Will you—"

"No. I'm not going to lie in your boyfriends' cum stains with you."

I get out of bed and cross the room toward him.

"No, Teagan," he says again when I stop beside the sofa.

"But I missed you," I tell him. I climb on top of him anyway, wrapping my arms around his back and resting my head on his chest. I close my eyes and breathe him in. "Just let me."

Sebastian sighs. He doesn't say no.

He wraps his arms around my back, and we fall asleep.

"Get up," Sebastian says.

Luca's shirt is pushed up to my chest, and I'm naked from the waist down. Sebastian's hard dick presses against the inside of my thigh through his pants.

I want it.

I move my hips over him, reaching for his face to bring his lips to mine, but he quickly shrugs me off and climbs out from under me.

I miss waking up to him inside me.

"What time is it?" I ask.

"It's just after noon," he says.

"I'm supposed to be in Blakely's suite to get ready soon."

"I know."

"What are you going to do?" I ask.

"I'm going to get ready, too. The blonde one is a big baby, by the way. Won't even help chop up a body."

"His name is Luca," I say. "He's your brother, and you know his name. And I like him the way he is."

"A crippled drug addict who abuses women?"

"You abuse women. You're a serial killer."

"So are you."

"You made me one."

"No, I didn't," he scoffs. "You killed before you ever met me. You would have hacked up your Tinder date if it wasn't for me. I saved you."

"Yeah…I guess. What happened to him anyway?"

"I hacked him up."

Hmm. I should have known.

He rifles through his bag until he pulls out something familiar—a needle attached to a tube and a blood bag.

"He's misunderstood—Luca. He's just…" I trail off, unsure how to finish the sentence. "He's a good person."

"Whatever you say. Make a fist," he says, tying a small rubber tourniquet around my arm.

"What's it for?" I ask.

"Decorating the room," he says. Unlike Riv, he doesn't warn me before he stabs me with the needle. "They'll find enough of your blood and this other guy's blood in here, and they'll think you're dead."

"Oh."

"That's what you wanted, right? You don't want them to think you're out there somewhere or to wonder why?"

"No, I don't…"

But I was thinking more along the lines of a car accident. A murder will hurt more. Still, it's better than wondering.

"So, they'll think that guy killed me?"

"Maybe. But they'll probably think I killed you and some other guy."

"Well, won't that be a problem for you?"

"Nah," he says. "I don't exist anywhere on paper, remember? I'll disappear, too."

"Won't The Order punish you?"

"Mmm, maybe. There's only one other person who knows my name and face—the one who raised me—so I guess that will be up to him. Otherwise, no one will ever know it was me who was here with you, and they'll just think you and Declan outsmarted your tail."

"Can I still see you?" I ask.

"No, Teagan, you can't."

"But—"

"Teagan, I know them," he says. "I know how they work. They just want to continue existing and operating in secrecy. They want people to forget the FBI was ever saying their name. They were willing to let the De Rossis go as long as they never came back…because if they killed them, they'd have to kill their father, too, and that would leave a mess. Not to mention they're celebrities—their capture would make national news, and their disappearance from custody would get just as much attention. They don't want to kill them. If you're gone —whether they believe you're dead or not—if the police think you're dead and you're not a threat to them, they'll leave you alone, too."

He removes the needle without warning, too.

"Well…then why can't you come with us? You're a De Rossi."

"No, I'm not, Teagan. Not in any way. They won't let me go, and then they'll kill you to prove a point—before or after they rape you in front of me."

" Why do you stay?" I ask.

"For the same reason you were going to before they came back for you. Everyone needs a place and purpose. I don't know how to exist anywhere else."

"You can exist with me. I'll be your purpose."

He laughs just a little. "You really are crazy, aren't you, Teagan?"

I shrug. "Probably."

"I can't," Sebastian says. "I'm not like my brothers— I won't share you. I'll end up killing them. And quite frankly, I don't trust myself not to eventually kill you, too."

"Yeah, you do," I say.

He ignores me and turns in the other direction, removing the needle from the end of the tube.

"Why won't you look at me?" I ask him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he says. "I'm busy. I'll look at you later."

"Right…okay."

I linger for a moment—waiting, but I'm not sure what I'm waiting for—and when he still doesn't look at me or say anything, I retreat to the bathroom.

I rinse off quickly in the shower, and then brush my teeth. Sebastian still doesn't look at me when I walk out to dress. I put on shorts and a tank top, slip on my sandals, and grab the garment bag with my dress and shoes in it.

I check my phone and see that I have a text message from Blakely.

BLAKELY I still hate the bows. Will you cut them off?

ME Yep. Consider it done.

"I guess I'll go ahead and go," I tell him. "I need to do something for Blake, and I want to eat and get some coffee downstairs before I go up there."

"Okay," he says, again, without looking up. "Might as well go crazy, charge whatever you want to the room—you won't be around to pay the bill."

"Are you hungry? Will you come with me?"

"I'll grab something later," he says.

He walks out to the balcony, closes the sliding glass door behind him, and sits in a chair facing the sea. I set the garment bag down on the bed and follow him.

"Sebastian?" My voice cracks.

"What?"

"You're hurting my feelings."

Sighing, he turns and—finally—looks at me. "You're asking for too much from me, Teagan. You already broke me—don't make this harder than it already is."

"That's not what I'm trying to do. I love you."

"You need to stop saying that," he says.

"Why?"

"Because I don't fucking like it!" he snaps.

"Well, why the fuck not?!" I shout, tears stinging my eyes. "What you're doing… for me…that's love. You love me, too. And after today, we're never going to see each other again, and you'll miss me…forever. And you're going to wish that you'd told me and that you'd kissed me and touched me. You're going to move from one big, lifeless house that isn't a home to another, and you'll sit in the dark alone and think about all of the times you made me feel like this, and you're going to hate it."

He turns his gaze back to the water and folds his arms across his chest. "I don't feel and think about things the way you do, Teagan."

"No, you don't. Not at all. But I know how you think and feel about me."

"I'm sure that makes you feel better, but you're wrong. You're running out of time, little monster. You better go. Try not to get fucking wasted; it's going to be harder to get you out of here if you're causing a scene or hacking someone to pieces."

I scoff and stare at him in disbelief. "See you later, Bone Saw."

I storm back inside, grab the garment bag and my purse, and leave, letting the door slam behind me.

It's not his fault, I tell myself as I move from my building on the far end of the resort back to the main building where Blake is staying. He didn't do this to himself, and maybe he's right—maybe I am asking too much. Don't let him make you make it worse. That's probably what he wants.

I walk around the back to the spot on the beach they've set up for the wedding, take out my phone, and wipe my eyes before sending Blakely a text.

ME Last chance to change your mind on the bows.

BLAKELY Do it.

When I finish, I snap a photo and send it to her.

ME Feel better or worse?

BLAKELY Better. It's much better.

I stop at a café downstairs, grab a sandwich and a coffee, and then head up to Blakely's room to get my hair, makeup, and nails done. Even though I'm a few minutes early, it looks like I'm the last one in the room. My mom, her future mother-in-law, and the bridal party are already there.

"You couldn't have put on a t-shirt for your sister?" my mom asks as the artist does her makeup, referring—again—to the scars on my chest.

"I wouldn't be able to get a t-shirt off without ruining my hair and makeup," I say. Remembering this is the last day I'll ever spend with them, I add, "Yours looks nice, by the way."

"She looks fine, Mom," Blakely says. "Teagan, you're after Sophie for hair."

"Okay," I say, sitting on the couch.

"Do you want some champagne?" Blakely asks, handing me a glass. I think about Sebastian's shitty comment and take it anyway.

"Thanks, but I feel like you shouldn't be serving me things today."

She shrugs. "I can't sit still. Are you okay? You look like you've been crying."

Sebastian's supposed to murder me later, right? I guess it won't hurt to tell the truth.

"Sebastian and I were fighting," I tell her. "He's here, by the way…is he still invited?"

"Yeah, of course. We have plenty of room. What were you fighting about?"

"Moving."

"Well, if you love him, maybe you should stay," Blakely says.

"Since when do you want me around?"

"Is he going to take care of you if you stay?" my mom asks, apparently overhearing the conversation.

"No," I tell her. "He can't."

"Blake—come on. It's time to take those rollers out," Lauren says.

"I remember what you said at the bar, Teagan," Blakely says. "I'm already sorry. I didn't like hearing the way Ashlyn talked to you; I realized that's how I talk to you, too. I won't do it anymore."

"Thank you."

"I'm glad you're here," she says.

"Me, too."