Page 151 of Cruel Lies

"You blamed me," I whispered against my will, the words falling from my lips of their own accord. "And in turn, I blamed myself."

"You didn’t deserve that," he admitted, swiping at his hair again. "I was afraid to let someone else carry the burden because I’ve lived with it for so long, I’m not sure what living without it would be like. And not being able to blame someone else made me realize if I’d trusted the other two long ago, we might not have missed out on seven years of us."

I might not have had to spend seven years in hiding. They wouldn’t have had to spend seven years as killers.

The world was fucked up like that, though. And there was no going back.

"You can’t turn back the hands of time, Rowan."

"I know that." He looked sideways at me, and this time, it was impossible to resist the pull.

I met his gaze with my own watery one, hating my weakness, hating more the emotions that forced their way to the top. "Do you, though?"

Confusion clouded his features. "I can’t undo what I’ve done to you, Harper. I can’t give you back your life." He laid his hand atop mine in my palm, flattening the blade so I couldn’t hurt myself with it anymore. "But I can give you a home. A future. I can give you protection. And I can give you the chance to love my brothers like they love you."

They did love me. I could see it. I’d been avoiding admitting it to myself because that would mean I’d have to admit that I’d fallen for them. That I always loved them. Even the seven long years I’d been alone, scared, in hiding, and sad, I loved them still.

I would always love the Blackwood boys. The whole world couldn’t change that. Death couldn’t take that away from us.

And neither could a man whose only joy in life was ruining it for others.

I wouldn’t let him.

I’d rather die than stop loving them.

"I can give you my life, in exchange for the one I stole from you."

His words echoed around us as I let them sink in. Could I go back with him like nothing had happened? Could I take his peace offering and love his brothers, but not love him? Could I go through life hating him for what he’d put me through, loving him in secret, as he self-flagellated to atone for his sins?

"I don’t want your life, Rowan Blackwood. I want my own."

"I don’t understand."

"A life full of love from Angel and Nash sounds amazing. But I fell in love with all three of you a long time ago. When I was still me. And taking two-thirds of the whole would be like cutting off one of my legs to survive. I’d go through life wishing I had it back."

There it was. I’d admitted it. Rowan was a part of me, as much as I didn’t want him to be. They all were. And there was nothing I could do to change that.

The heart wants what it wants.

And my heart wanted the Blackwood boys—all of them.

Even this stubborn, arrogant, prideful, and martyring one beside me.

"A life without you in it isn’t much of a life, Ro. After all, you’re the one who loved me first."

I didn’t know what that meant. I didn’t know how to quantify it, explain it, or make it make sense. I just knew that my heart told me he would understand.

And apparently, he did.

"You know Nash wants that knife back, right?"

I giggled at the idea of Nash throwing a hissy fit because I’d stolen his knife. "Too bad he’s in no condition to fight me for it."

He shifted his weight to give me room to get up, and as my hand flattened on the rough, crumbling concrete, my life flashed in front of my eyes.

Chunks of the bridge came loose, rapidly loosening the structural integrity of the ground beneath us. It was like life was getting the last laugh, bringing us back together only to yeet us into the grim dark depths that waited patiently below. I closed my eyes and bit back a scream, thanking my lucky stars that I got this last moment with him before i had to give it all up.

And then a strong arm circled my waist and we rolled together, one over the other, until we were in the center of the bridge, far from the crumbling edge that nearly claimed our lives a second ago.

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