“We’ll try going to the brownstone.”
She furrows her brow. “If you need more help—”
“How about this? We’ll try one night. If it doesn’t work, I’ll be the asshole who changed plans and bring everybody back.”
“Okay.” Charlotte laughs. “You’d do that?”
“I don’t want you to worry. And Mason’s even worse. The man needs to relax.”
She nods, her blue, sunshine eyes shining. “That’s really nice, Gabriel. That’s really…that’s lovely of you.”
“I’m sorry I haven’t always been lovely.” In fact, on a couple of occasions, I’ve been a real prick to Charlotte. “Nothing that happened was your fault.”
She waves me off. “People go on the defense when they’re scared. I’m not sayingyouwere ever afraid, of course. But generally.”
“You’re too cute for this family.”
“Don’t let Remy hear you say that.” Charlotte glances toward the living room, where Mason and Jameson and Lydia and Nate and Elise are eating popcorn and watching Downton Abbey. “I’m worried about Elise, though. Take care of her. Okay?”
Elise pretends, in the most unconvincing way, to be perfectly fine when we leave Mason’s place and go home. She smiles vaguely at Charlotte and promises to text and holds my hand on the drive. It hurts my ribs to steer and press the pedals. It hurts more that I can’t give her some of how I feel.
Not everything is fixed. Of course it’s not. We have a ton of legal bullshit to wade through. I have broken ribs and a concussion. Lydia and Nate need consistent school plans.
Despite all of that, for the first time since my parents died, I can see a future that doesn’t end in fire and pain. It’s ironic that it took being trapped in a fire to understand that, but the universe works in mysterious ways.Homedoesn’t mean the house I grew up in anymore. It means Mason’s place, and mine, and the people we love.
Of course, that meanslivingin the future, and dealing with all the shit that happened in the past. Irritating. Dedicating my life to vengeance was going to save me from that.
Ah, well. Win some, lose some.
At the brownstone, Elise heads into the kitchen. Nate and Lydia throw their bags into the guest bedrooms. Their bedrooms, now. They’re no longer free for guests. I sink into the chair in the corner of my bedroom. The brownstone is quieter than Mason’s, but not by much. Half my family came here with me.
It feels good here, too. It’ll feel even better when my siblings come to visit us. Jameson’s going to give me hell for finally inviting them.
I lean back in the chair and close my eyes. Just for a minute.
Nate and Lydia go by my bedroom door.
“I’m not watching one of your princess shows. Pick something better.” Nate’s voice swings close to the door, then fades toward the stairs.
“You are, like,sorude, and for what? I’m starting season two of thescience fiction showthat you also like, asshole.”
Nate gasps. “Foul language is beneath you.”
“It’s not a princess show, and if you say that again, I’ll be forced to remind you that you’re an asshole.”
“Winona Ryder is in it. How is thatnot—”
“I can’t believe I have to live with you. I just—I can’t.”
Their voices, sans most of the words, float up to the second floor. Elise joins them a minute later. She’s subdued. Not like she was at the Hamilton charity gala, or in her father’s office, or even at the initiation.
I’m torn, because I want her back. I want her determination and her fire and her sweetness.
I also understand, though I wish I didn’t, that losing her father has changed parts of her forever. That would have been the case whether she murdered him or not.
It’ll be a fine line. I’m not going to insist on pretending it never happened. I’m also not going to let this half-life continue.
I’m about to get up, to go kiss her and hold her and love her, when there are footsteps at the bedroom door.