Page 79 of What's Left of Me

“Of course.”

“Absolutely.”

“Yep.”

“I doubt it.” That was Angel. He just shrugged and went back inside.

“Don’t listen to him, he’s all heartsick because Two is gone and his chance at love has blown away.” Matt made a twirly motion with his hand.

“We need to hook him up.” Nick cackled. “That’s my new life’s mission.”

I shook my head.

“Carmichael called.” Gabe stuck his head out from the sliding door. “I don’t know how—I won’t ask—but he got us out of any wrongdoing. Something about self-defense and a bunch of FBI words.”

“You all know we’re going to owe him forever, right?” Matt said.

“I’d rather owe him than Rose. That guy is a waste.” We hadn’t heard from him. Aside from the day he’d come to the house with Carmichael, we hadn’t seen him anywhere, and that was just fine.

“When’s dinner?” Phoenix asked.

“A few hours.”

“Wanna help me shower?” He waggled his brows.

“Fuck yeah, I do.” I stood, cradling him in my arms. “Bye, fuckers.”

Gabe moved out of the way and as fast as I could, I rushed up the stairs.

In the bathroom, I rested him on the toilet while I got the water temperature right.

“I love you, Noel Saint.”

I spun around, a cheesy smile no doubt on my face.

“I love you more, Phoenix Briar.”

And I would for the rest of my life.

EPILOGUE

Three Months Later

Phoenix

Freedom was a hard-fought thing.It took me awhile to want to leave the house and go do things. A simple thing like going into the grocery store was terrifying, but I did it…eventually…and with like, five people with me.

Aziza told me not to be so hard on myself. I was trying, but it was also frustrating. Through it all, no matter how bad the day was, I had Noel. He was always there, and I’d never felt more loved in my life.

One thing I was working on with Aziza was Amo Cormac. I’d stopped calling him Adonis—that was what he’d wanted, and I was able to let go of that.

When I’d broken his mask, his face wasn’t as bad as I’d thought. Sure there were scars but I didn’t understand first, how it wasn’t fixable, and two, why he’d thought he was ugly with it.

Aziza did some research for me and she explained it all to me in a way I’d never have understood on my own.

“It seems he was trying to get a lip replacement instead of simple Botox. In the process, some nerve and muscle damage occurred and when he went back to get it fixed, the doctor couldn’t due to scarring under the skin. While to you and me it didn’t appear horrible, to a person like Amo, it was world ending. It was that moment that pushed him over the edge. He likely always had urges to kill, but he didn’t until that moment. He was a broken man, an undiagnosed man who never sought help.”

I didn’t feel sad for him, not knowing all he’d done. I accepted her answer and then tucked it away. I didn’t want to think of him ever again.

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