Ethan let out a disheartened chuckle. “Which one?”
I dipped my head back and blinked the tears from my eyes. “What do you mean.”
“Lynch or Bruce? Your biological dad or your fake one? And no, neither one of them are looking for you.”
“You’re lying.”
Ethan raised a brow. “You didn’t know?”
“This is too much.” I pulled on the restraints again, begging to be out of them. The chair wobbled, and Ethan held down my arms to keep me still. Narrowing my eyes, I looked straight into his and screamed through the uncontrollable tears, “You mean to tell me you knew this entire time Lynch was my dad, and you didn’t say anything? You’re just as much of a liar as everyone else!” The chair rocked back and forth as I thrashed.
“You need to calm down, Jett! You’re going to hurt yourself,” his grip tightened, trying to keep me still until finally, he leaned over and cut my hands loose, then my ankles, “It wasn’t my place! I thought Masters told you, he said he should be the one, and that Lynch lost his chance.”
I froze, and a lump made of deceit lodged in my throat. “Ollie knew?”
“I’m sorry.” Ethan’s strong hands moved up and down my heavy arms, and he shook his head. “God, I’m so fucking sorry. I thought you knew.”
Nausea churned in my stomach, and my heart felt as if it were trying to claw its way out of my chest. A fury came over me, controlling my next moves, and I punched him in the chest. “You’re the liar!” I screamed. “You’re the one filling my head! Get out of my head!” Over and over, my fist landed into his hard chest, releasing wrath far overdue. “I hate you,” I cried.
Something came over me at that moment, like an atomic bomb went off inside my head, reminding me of my circumstances. Ollie and I were engaged. I was supposed to meet him. We were going to take off together and get married. I had a court date, did it pass? Were the last two years for nothing? Too many thoughts, each one driving my hand into his chest, shoulders, stomach, anything I could get my hands on, and Ethan hadn’t moved or stopped me.
The beating went on until I crumbled in his arms, and he cradled me on the floor of the dark room, tasting my own salty tears and smelling his cologne mixed with the cigarette smoke. For a second, I wished the entire world would stop so I could have longer than a heartbeat to put these pieces back together inside my head.
“I missed us, Jett,” he whispered. “We need each other.”
“Everyone’s a liar,” I cried. “Even I’ve been lying to myself this entire time, believing he couldn’t be real. That if he was, he would have rescued me.”
“Rescued you from what? I told you, I’m never letting anything happen to you. You’re safe with me. I promise. The only reason I kept you tied up, kept putting you out every time you ran away was because you’re a little fucked up in the head if you haven’t noticed, but you’re my kind of fucked up. I’m afraid without me, you’re going to get yourself killed, or worse.”
“What’s worse than death?” I cried out, looking up at him.
Ethan’s chest caved beneath my head, and his fingers pushed wet strands from my face. “I’ll show you tomorrow,” he said, then removed his shirt, exposing his carved chest. “Tonight, I’m here, Mia. I’m the only one here for you.” He grabbed a quilt he’d brought in earlier along with our bags, wrapped it around us, laid me over his chest, and took us across the floor.
I cried myself to sleep, wrapped inside the arms of my security blanket.
The next morning, I quickly showered in the bathroom connected to the bedroom. In the mirror, my puffy eyes showed proof of my long night of crying, but I didn’t have the space to care. I stood, water dripping over the tile, waiting for Ethan to bring me my clothes he’d washed.
Ethan pushed open the door and rested a neatly folded stack of clothes and a towel over the bathroom counter before he looked up at me. “You have five minutes. There’s one last stop before we head to the airport.”
“The airport?” I asked, taking the towel to dry off. Where were we going? This news was bitter but sweet. It meant flying possibly farther than wherever Ollie was, but also farther from a place without lies and deception.
“I have a plan. There’s a boat waiting for us back in the states,” he explained, eyes following my every move.
I slipped on my panties. “A boat?”
“Yeah, now come on. We haven’t got much time.”
After getting dressed and towel drying my hair, I helped Ethan pack the car and waited in the passenger seat as he went back inside the apartment to finish up some last-minute things. The sun was out, penetrating through the car window and caressing over my sensitive skin. If I wanted to run, now would be the time. Ethan fully trusted me, leaving me abandoned with opportunity. But I had nowhere to go, and no one to go home to. Ollie was doing just fine without me, living out his dream as a poet, meeting people, taking pictures, and signing books. Bruce, my fake father, had Diane, my stepmother, and I was nothing but a burden in their life. A complication. Lynch never bothered to tell me. It made sense now, why Bruce sent me overseas into the hands of my real dad, thinking I was Lynch’s problem to deal with and not his problem anymore.
Though I’d caught Ethan murdering the boy back at Dolor, I was a murderer too.
Maybe he had a good reason—a reason I was determined to learn more about.
Ethan was my safest bet for now until I could figure all this out.
He got into the car, not the least bit surprised I was still sitting here, waiting for him, and cranked the heat. “Are you cold?” he asked, leaning behind the backseat. “Here.”
My hoodie dropped into my lap—my POETIC hoodie. “Where are we going?” I asked, slipping it over my head.
“There’s someone I want you to meet.”
The ride to Wirral was about forty-minutes. Ethan had spilled all his truths, starting with Livy being his sister and ending with the answer to my last question: what day was it?
“April seventeenth. Release day was two weeks ago.”
Two weeks. I’d officially missed my court date and couldn’t go back home now even if I wanted to.
Two weeks. It seemed like decades ago when I’d made love to Ollie, feeling his touch, hearing his voice, smelling his scent.
Two weeks since anyone had lied to me, too. Had I crossed Ollie’s mind since? Was he thinking about me? Did he worry something terrible happened to me? I forced out those thoughts. Of course, he wasn’t thinking about me. Oliver Masters was too busy enjoying his new life. One he never mentioned before because he never planned to share it.
Ethan lied to me too, but for a good reason. He’d told me what happened to his sister, Livy. The four guys at Dolor had murdered her, and he was carrying out justice in her name, taking matters into his own hands. On some sadistic level, I understood Ethan.
“Do you remember when you and I sat under that tree, and we swore we’d always be there for one another even though I was leaving the country? A pinky promise?” Ethan turned to face me, a small smile lighting up his face at the memory. I nodded, pulling the sleeves over my hands for warmth. “These are the circumstances we’re in, Jett, whether you like them or not. I never planned to take you with me, but we’re going to make the most of it. I can make you happy. I know it. You just have to meet me halfway. You’re my family, remember?”