Chapter 18

Sloane dragged me out of the house the next morning before I could even finish my coffee.

"Up. Now. We're going."

"Going where?"

"To get your mind off everything." She grabbed my arm. "You've been cooped up in this house for weeks. You need air. You need fun. You need to remember you're a person."

"I am a person."

"Then act like one."

I let her pull me out the door.

She drove us to a farmer's market downtown. Rows of colorful stalls. Fresh produce. Homemade bread. The smell of flowers and coffee and something sweet.

"This is nice," I admitted.

"I know. I'm brilliant."

I laughed. For the first time in weeks, I actually laughed.

We walked through the market, Sloane buying anything that caught her eye. A jar of honey. A bundle of lavender. A loaf of sourdough that she insisted was "life-changing."

"You're going to eat all of this yourself?" I asked.

"No. I'm going to share with you." She shoved the bread into my hands. "Consider it a gift. An apology for being a terrible friend."

"You're not a terrible friend."

"I've been so focused on Mason and Vincent that I forgot to be there for you." She stopped. "You're my best friend, Lucy. And I've been treating you like a problem to be solved."

"Sloane—"

"I'm sorry." Her voice cracked. "I should have been better."

I pulled her into a hug.

"You're fine," I said. "You've always been there for me. Even when you were being a pain in the ass."

She laughed. "That's fair."

We found a bench near the flower stalls and sat down.

"I need to ask you something," Sloane said.

"Okay."

"Are you happy? With Mason?"

I was quiet for a moment.

"I'm getting there," I said. "It's not easy. He's not easy. But he's trying."

"Trying isn't the same as succeeding."

"I know. But it's more than he's ever done before."

Sloane nodded slowly.

"I see the way he looks at you," she said. "Like you're the only thing that matters. He's never looked at anyone like that."

"Not even his blondes?"

"Especially not his blondes." She shook her head. "Those were distractions. You're the real thing."

I didn't know what to say.

"I'm not saying you should forgive him for everything," Sloane added. "I'm just saying—I see it. The way he's changing. The way he's trying."

"Yeah," I said quietly. "I see it too."

We spent the rest of the morning at the market.

Sloane bought me a necklace. Silver. Simple. A tiny book charm.

"Because you love books," she said.

"Bold of you to assume I don't already have this exact necklace."

"Shut up. It's the thought that counts."

I laughed and put it on.

Sloane dropped me off at work. The bookstore was quiet. Mrs. Patel was at the register, reading a mystery novel. Ethan was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Ethan?" I asked.

"Calling in sick," she said. "Something about a stomach bug."

I nodded. Felt a twinge of disappointment.

I'd been looking forward to seeing him. Someone normal. Someone who didn't know about Vincent or Mason or the constant fear.

But maybe it was better this way. One less person to protect.

The day passed slowly.

I shelved books. Rang up customers. Pretended everything was fine.

It wasn't.

At four o'clock, I looked up and saw a familiar face.

Vanessa.

She was standing in the doorway, designer bag slung over her shoulder, perfectly styled hair. She looked like she'd stepped out of a magazine.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I came to talk to you."

"We don't have anything to talk about."

"We have everything to talk about." She walked toward the counter. "Mason ended things with me."

"I know."

"He said he was in love with someone else." She laughed. "I didn't believe him. Mason doesn't fall in love. He doesn't even like people."

I didn't respond.

"But then I saw the way he looked at you." She tilted her head. "The pool house girl. The charity case. The one who's been in love with him for a decade."

I felt my face go hot.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"I want to warn you."

"Warn me?"

"He's not going to change." Her voice was flat. "I've known him for years. I've seen him do this before. He gets obsessed. He thinks he's in love. Then he gets bored and moves on."

"You don't know him."

"I know him better than you think." She stepped closer. "He used me. Just like he's using you. The only difference is, I knew what I was getting into. You don't."

I stared at her.

"Get out," I said.

"Excuse me?"

"Get out." My voice was shaking. "I'm not going to listen to this."

She smiled. Cold. Calculated. "Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you."

She walked out.

I stood behind the counter, heart pounding.

Vanessa's words echoed in my head. He's not going to change.

Was she right? Was I fooling myself? I didn't know.

My phone buzzed.

Mason: How's your day?

I stared at the screen. My thumb hovered over the keyboard.

Lucy: Fine. Yours?

Mason: Boring. I miss you.

I set down my phone. Didn't respond.

Sloane picked me up at five. She took one look at my face and sighed. "Let me guess. Vanessa showed up."

"How did you know?"

"Mason called me. Said she was acting weird. Told me to check on you." She shook her head. "She's toxic. Ignore her."

I nodded. But I couldn't shake her words.

***

Night came and I sat in the guest room and stared at the wall.

Mason knocked on my door. "Lucy. Can I come in?"

"Yeah."

He walked in. Sat down beside me. "Sloane told me about Vanessa."

"Of course she did."

"Lucy—"

"She said you're not going to change. She said you're using me. Just like you used her."

His jaw tightened. "She's wrong."

"Is she?"

He looked at me. His eyes were dark.

"I'm not going to lie to you," he said. "I've done terrible things. I've hurt people. I've used people. I've been a disaster."

"I know."

"But I'm trying. For the first time in my life, I'm trying." He took my hand. "I can't promise I won't screw up. I can't promise I won't hurt you. But I can promise I'll never stop trying."

I stared at him.

"Okay," I said quietly.

"Okay?"

"Okay."

He pulled me into his arms.

The next morning, I went to work. Ethan was there. He looked pale. Tired.

"You look awful," I said.

"Thanks." He managed a smile. "I was up all night. Couldn't sleep."

"Why?"

"Doesn't matter." He waved a hand. "I'm fine."

I didn't push. But I noticed the way his eyes darted around the room. The way he flinched at sudden noises.

Something was wrong.

At lunch, I cornered him. "Ethan. What's going on?"

"Nothing."

"You're lying."

He stared at me.

"Someone came to my apartment last night," he said quietly. "Knocked on the door. I didn't open it. But I looked through the peephole."

"Who was it?"

"I don't know. A man. Dark jacket." He swallowed. "He left a note under my door."

My blood went cold.

"What did it say?"

Ethan pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. Handed it to me.

Stay away from her. Or next time, I won't knock.

I felt sick.

"Vincent," I whispered.

"Who's Vincent?"

"A man who wants to hurt me." I looked at him. "Ethan, I'm so sorry. I never meant to drag you into this."

He was quiet for a moment.

"Lucy," he said finally. "I'm not going to stop being your friend."

"What?"

"I know you're scared. I know you're trying to protect me. But I'm not going to let some psychopath dictate who I can and can't talk to."

"Ethan—"

"I mean it." He met my eyes. "You're my friend. And I don't abandon my friends."

I stared at him.

He was good. Kind. Normal.

Everything I needed.

I called Mason. "Vincent visited Ethan last night," I said. "Left a note. Threatened him."

"Where is Ethan now?"

"At work. He's fine."

"I'll send someone to watch his apartment."

"Thank you."

"Lucy—"

"I know. I know."

I hung up.

Sloane called me immediately after the call ended. "Ethan's being watched," she said. "I made sure of it."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me. Thank your boyfriend. He's the one who organized it."

I smiled. "He's not my boyfriend."

"He's something."

"Yeah," I said quietly. "He's something."