Page 82 of Pretty Threats

I roll my eyes. “You really want to know?”

“I think I’d better.”

“What she is… is mine. She’s been mine since the beginning. And that’s what she’ll always be. Until I’m dead.” I blow out a breath. “So, are you going to kill me? To protect her from me, that’s what you’ll need to do.”

“Why does she need protection from you?”

“I’m not saying she does. You’re the one who said that.”

“I said she’s scared. Is she right to be afraid? Did you threaten her?”

“She’s not afraid I’ll hurt her. She just wants me to leave her alone for a while.”

“So, why don’t you? Give her a little time to get over whatever you did.”

“Liam,” I say sharply. “Stop giving advice you’re not qualified to give. Raine isn’t Olivia. I’m not you. We’re something else.”

“Maybe you’re something else. But Raine is like Olivia. I’ve known the girl long enough to see how sweet she is. The fucking opposite of you in every way.”

“I know.” My voice is low and hard now, matching his. “But you’re wrong about Raine being like Olivia. Maybe she was once, but Newton’s First Law of Motion holds. I entered Raine’s life, and her path changed. Mine changed, too. Each of us has had an effect on the other. That’s the way the First Law works. So, don’t tell me you know her better than I do. No one could. And don’t believe you know me better than she does. You don’t.”

“Do you love her?”

“Yes. And that’s my proof.”

“Proof of what?”

“That I didn’t escape the First Law. Before her, it wasn’t in me to love anyone. And I didn’t.”

“If she’s as important as you say, you’d better think long and hard about what you’re doing to her. Because I’m telling you, brother, you’re right at the fucking edge. And you could lose her. When people are trapped, they sometimes take drastic measures. Moving across the country. Even death. Hers or yours.”

That renders me silent. I’ve pushed her to the brink before. But even when she stabbed me, she wasn’t trying to kill me or to free herself. That time it was to save someone she considered an innocent victim. Of course, that doesn’t mean she would never reach the point of trying to kill me or herself. If she thought it was the only way to stop me… maybe.

We’re not at that point yet, but Liam’s got sharp judgment. If he saw desperation while looking at Raine, I’d be an idiot to discount his warning.

“All right,” I finally say. “I hear what you’re saying.”

I don’t care if she tries to kill me. Or even succeeds. But if she killed herself, I’d lose her forever.

Unacceptable.

33

RAINE

There’s an Espresso Yourself on the ground level of a Boston high rise in the financial district. The lobby is marble, glass, and steel, but the coffee shop has kitschy furniture, woven hemp rugs, and brightly colored art by local artists and photographers. I’m immediately glad I made the drive. I brought a blanket and boxed lunch for later in Norman B. Leventhal Park, which became my favorite park senior year at St. Seb’s.

After reviewing emails from Owen, I’m happy to find he likes the most recent research and notes I’ve sent. We had a meeting on Friday, and I confided some of what I’d seen at Lambda House. I’d been worried he might be happy to have dirt, which would’ve made me feel gross for telling him. Instead, he was somber and sorry to hear that one of my high school friends had been sucked into the nasty underbelly of GU. One thing he said was that the things we do in our late teens and early twenties don’t need to define us. He’s seen people who’ve completely changed their lives.

I work until one in the afternoon and then walk to the park. It’s been sprinkling on and off, so the air smells clean. The dreary weekend sky means I have the sidewalks to myself. I stop to take moody photographs and some footage I know will look great for a certain type of story.

When I reach the park, the trellises immediately bring a smile to my face. I take a few closeups of water dripping from the vines to post in a few days, after I’ve left Boston.

The grass is wet, so I use napkins to wipe off the end of a bench and then fold my blanket in half and place it as a seat cushion.

While I’m unboxing my lunch, my phone rings. Killian.

I let it go to voicemail, and surprisingly, he leaves one.

---