Page 93 of Fool's Gold

He won’t need to worry. I’ve got SWAT on speed dial.

I stop at the foot of the bed, indecision weighing me down. I bite down on my lower lip and stare at Marcus. He will no doubt lose his shit when I tell him the next piece of this puzzle.

“You’re not going to feel very casual when you see this,” I admit.

“What did you do?” His voice sharpens.

I gawk at him. “Why do you always think I’ve done something?” He’s right this time.

A muscle at the side of his mouth spasms, the movement causing him to flinch with pain. “Because I know you. I know what you’re capable of doing, and it has to be something for you to look the way you do.”

He does know me. We’ve come too far, been through so many different chapters of our lives together, for him to be ignorant. No matter what he’s pretended to be or feel over the last few months.

There’s always been love beneath it. I know better now.

Bunching my skirt in one hand, I slide onto the bed beside him and take his phone from him, a little surprised he lets me. I flip through to his browser and click on one of the first articles that pops up. With a start, I realize the news is everywhere, my stomach twisting into a free fall.

Which is what River and I wanted, but to see it in front of me now, in real, live Technicolor…

“Look.” My voice shakes as well as my hands. “It’s on the front page of all the media outlets.”

For the second time this morning, the stark realization of my actions is clear. My throat tickles, and I cough to clear it as Marcus presses his index finger to the screen and scrolls.

The intimate bits have been blurred out, thankfully, although it’s impossible not to know exactly what’s going on in every single picture.

Marcus stills, his good eye widening and pulling at the edges of the bandage. “Empire, what the actual fuck?”

His voice is barely above a whisper, and surprisingly, pride spirals in a warm wave through my system, all the way down to my toes.

“I did what I had to do. I gave the media everything.” Or, rather, River did the dirty distribution for me. “It’s all the pictures those people threatened to release. Everything about me. I gave it all away and leaked it myself so the Mafia doesn’t have anything over you or me anymore.”

“It’s career suicide.” He glances over at me, pale faced, staring.

I furrow my brows. “Would you rather be dead? It was an easy choice to make.” Once the words start, it’s impossible to hold them back. “Besides, Celeste is going to jail. There was some pretty damning evidence in the warehouse where they held you. Their terror is done now. They have nothing else on us.”

“And how would you know?” he presses.

“Because the guy who swept the scene updated me.” And sent a quick text to tell me not to worry, among other things. “With Celeste in line for prosecution, I’m canceling my contract for the film, too.”

“They updated you?”

Trust him to snag on one statement and not the meat of the picture. I roll my eyes. “Gosh, you don’t need to sound so shocked, Marcus. I’m not completely helpless.”

He shakes his head, then his jaw flexes, regret for the movement bringing color to his face. “I never thought you were helpless. I’m just… This is a lot to take in.”

“Yeah, well, I can be pretty vicious when my back is to the wall.” I glance sideways at him. “Or when someone I care about is being hurt.”

“You don’t need to worry about me,” he replies, clicking the screen off and tossing the phone aside.

“Clearly I do, since you almost died. Do I really need to remind you?”

His lips work before he falls silent. It’s been a hot minute since I’ve seen Marcus speechless.

I’m not really sure what to say, either. After everything we’ve been through, this moment is touched by the surreal. We’re back in my bed together, the same way we’d lie together when I had a nightmare about the plane crash, and he’d come in to comfort me. Except we’re two different people now.

The future really is open for us, for whatever we want. As long as we’re together.

That point is nonnegotiable, and the sooner Marcus realizes it, the better. I wouldn’t want to do anything to hurt his recovery.

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