It was a simple question, one with a number for an answer. “You have to believe me when I say I don’t take the lives of people who don’t deserve it.”
“Ethan,” her voice scattered, “how many?”
I sucked in a breath and brushed my thumb across her stomach. “Six.” I’d be able to name them all too, and every person in their immediate family, their addresses, how they preferred their tea …
“Six?” she laughed, but it was empty, and I’d lost her, “You’re a certified serial killer, you do know that right?” she looked around the cabin of the car, eyes bugging out, “I don’t know why the extent of this situation didn’t hit me before, but you’re a serial killer. I’m actually on the run with you, a serial killer. You’re a serial killer, Ethan! You kill people. People! More than one! You’ve murdered people.”
No matter how many times she’d said it, it didn’t change anything. “Six,” I confirmed. “Six lives who deserved it.”
“So, that makes it okay?”
“I didn’t say that.” I’d never asked for this. Livy’s murder had taught me a lot. Anyone could be capable of anything when grief mixed with anger. In my case, a ruthless monster was born. Mia side-eyed me almost as if she couldn’t look at me, but wanted to make sure she knew where my other hand was at all times. I still had one latched to her hip to keep us connected, to keep her with me. “I’m not going to hurt you, Jett. I. Love. You. Don’t you see that by now? If the roles reversed, and you were in fact missing, I’d be filing every fucking report, knocking on every door, stopping at nothing to find you. Yes, I’d even fucking kill for you. That’s how much I care about you. Not Masters, not your fucking dad, or Lynch. Me!”
“This is a lot.” A tear slipped from her eye, and I leaned over to catch it with my thumb.
“I know.” Two steps forward, ten steps back. I scratched my jaw, a nervous habit, wishing I could use my hands to untangle all her worries.
Then she quietly added, “Did you feel it? The silence?”
My brows pinched together. “What do you mean?”
“Never mind,” she muttered, looking off into the car park.
“Let’s have breakfast, all right? Take this slow. You can ask me anything you want.”
Mia had ordered the pancakes with chocolate and banana. She’d moaned with every bite, eyelids fluttering, and I decided her psych file was incorrect. It wasn’t touching that calmed her. It was food. In seconds, she cleared her plate as if she hadn’t eaten in two years.
When I’d told her she could ask me anything, I didn’t mean about fucking Masters. Question after question, and each one revolved around the tosser, a few about Lynch. She was so interested in seeing Masters’ poetry book, the cover, the news articles, and scrolling through my mobile, reading every review. Masters fucking lied to her, and her face lit up at the screen like a pleased girlfriend. She’d never looked at me like that before. Would she ever? Masters made something of himself, and the only thing I’d accomplished over the last year was murder.
At the airport, Mia stayed silent at my side as we checked into customs. Every step closer to the terminal, my conscience weighed heavier and heavier. Something inside me changed. Maybe it was seeing my mum today, or perhaps it was because I loved Mia enough, I’d be willing to let her go. Either way, once we would board the plane, there was no turning back. She knew it too.
People pushed past us, rushing to catch their flight as Mia and I stood awkwardly in the waiting area to board the plane. My fist tightened around the handle of our duffle. We had no other luggage, but this was all that was needed. There wasn’t a passing second wasted, each one of them spent contemplating the next words I’d say. Over the last two weeks, I’d made sure to gather all evidence to show Mia what a piece of shit Masters and Lynch both were, giving every reason to despise them to get her here, at this airport, under her own free will. But I’d been an idiot all along. Their bond was too strong. Stronger than hers and mine could ever be. I’d realized there was nothing I could say to keep her from loving him. No matter how long Mia and I were together, one year, five years, twenty years, he would never go away. Oliver Masters permanently stained her.
To be the good guy for once, I needed to let her know she had this single opportunity to leave. I’d give her the option now, and if she didn’t take it, it was possible I’d keep her forever.
“Mia—”
“It’s fine, Ethan.”
“You can have my car. You should go to him.”
She looked up at me under heavy lashes. “No, you were right. Ollie is a liar. He never loved me. Never even bothered looking for me.”
“But—”
She placed her hand over my arm to stop me. “I’m going with you.”
My heart jumped, the Monster cheered, and our destination and flight number rang over the intercom, notifying passengers it was time to board. Mia pulled her hand away, and though I was pleased with her decision, I was also worried I’d be looking into those disheartened eyes for the rest of my life.
Thirteen hours later, we made it to JFK airport in New York City, but we gained five hours back due to the time change, making it six at night. About a week ago, Dean mailed me the location of my new car, which was waiting in the car park at the airport with our new identities located inside the glove box. I’d never questioned or doubted Dean, but I was still dumbfounded by him and the things he was able to do. He’d got the job done, and I owed him a lot.
Mia hadn’t questioned it either. For the most part, she’d been quiet during the entire trip. Utterly spent, I looked over at Mia from inside the cabin of the brand new black Supra. Her eyes matched the same red color and heaviness mine surely had. “Do you want me to drive?” she asked with soft humor in her tone. I would be able to figure it out, the different sides of the road, but tonight wasn’t a night to take chances considering our exhaustion and unfamiliar territory.
Under a silent agreement, we both exited the car and switched places.
Mia pulled into the nearest hotel. It was posh and pricey, but the cash planted in the glovebox gave us enough to get by until we made it down to Louisiana to fetch the yacht.
Our travels finally caught up with us, and as soon as we entered the hotel room, I plugged my phone into the charger and took one of the beds, sinking into the soft white duvet, and closed my eyes. Mia’s breathing sounded above me, and I opened one eye to see her standing with her hands clasped in front of her. “I … um …”
I lifted the sheet, motioning for her to curl up at my side. I didn’t ask her, it was her choice, and she didn’t hesitate. After the long day, the truths I’d admitted, the heartbreak she was enduring because of Masters, it was me she needed. And I’d be here for her every step of the way. My palm gripped her bare thigh, and I wrapped her leg around mine to pin her against my front. She was tiny in my arms and looked up at me through wet lashes. I hadn’t known she was crying.
“You’re right,” she whispered. “We’re the same, and I’m going to try.”
Her lips brushed my neck, and my eyes pinched closed, my monster inside smiled, but my nerves shook at her confession. I didn’t want her to try to love me, I just wanted her to, and the warm tears trailing over my skin from her eyes reminded me she was lying.