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“I did think it was really cute when you said you loved me though.”

Livvie, in her infinite capacity for compassion, put out her cigarette and wrapped her arms around my waist. I took the lifeline she offered and held her in my arms. I might have squeezed her too hard. I didn’t want to let her go. I couldn’t.

“Caleb,” she gasped. I loosened my grip but didn’t let her go. “I don’t want you to disappear again. Please, promise me you won’t.”

I searched blindly for my voice and had to clear my throat before I could speak.

“I promise, Livvie. But I… I don’t know what to do. I’ve never been here before.”

“Neither have I, Caleb. And we’re seriously more fucked up than anyone else I know.” She laughed morosely. “But you have to give me time. You have to let me be mad at you. You have to promise that no matter what I say or do, you’ll forgive me. You’ll wait for me to let it go.”

So many emotions and I couldn’t let them out. I settled for stating the obvious.

“Livvie, I’ll forgive you whatever the hell you want. You don’t need my forgiveness; you never have to ask for it. It’s yours, Livvie. Anything that’s mine to give is already yours.” I placed my fingers in her hair and tilted her face up to mine. Her lips were salty with tears, her mouth tasted like smoke, but beyond that there was just Livvie. I needed Livvie.

In my best interpretation of every superhero movie I’d ever seen (and I hadn’t seen too many by that time), I lifted Livvie into my arms and carried her inside. She kindly gave me directions to her bedroom. We made love on her pastel-yellow sheets amidst a ridiculous amount of throw pillows.

***

Later, after we’d finished having sex, Livvie engaged me in conversation. It reminded me of Mexico. We had always been better in the dark. I’m going to spare you and, admittedly, myself the agony of the details of what happened after we finished making love. You know what Livvie went through. You know the truth about my past. After that night, I knew it too.

I learned my name had been James Cole. I had been born to an American named Elizabeth Cole and a man known only as Vlad. I was five when I’d been kidnapped and sent to live as a whore. My mother killed herself when I was twelve. I couldn’t help but take notice I’d been taken under Rafiq’s care around the same time. I wondered if he’d known my mother was dead when he’d decided to “rescue” me.

I couldn’t remember her face. I would always remember Rafiq’s. Meanwhile a voice nagged me: Vladek is your father. Your father is still alive.

“Are you okay?” Livvie whispered against my neck. I could feel her tears dripping on me. I could feel her arm wrapped tightly around my chest. I could feel her heart beating against my ribs.

I felt. I fuckingfeltand it was awful.

I pulled her close and ran my fingers across the small of her back, taking whatever comfort I could find in having her close to me. She was alive. I was alive. We were together. I tried to focus on that.

“No, Kitten. I’m not okay,” I whispered. “I don’t know how long it’s going to take for me tobeokay. I just know that as long as you’re with me, there’s a chance that one day… I might be.”

She squeezed me. So much was trapped inside me, and her love—or whatever it was she felt for me —threatened to coax it out. I fought to keep it all inside, where I could control it and no one could use it against me. My life was fucked up. It always had been. There was no point in dwelling on things I couldn’t control or change. My mother was dead. Rafiq was dead. Livvie and I were alive. End of fucking pity party.

“I’m so sorry, Caleb,” she sobbed. I closed my eyes to blink the burning and stinging away. “It wasn’t your fault.”

I swallowed hard.

“I wish that were true. Once, it may have been, but it stopped being true a long time ago. I did what I did, Livvie. It was my fault.” We were quiet for a minute as the words settled. There was something I needed to know. “Livvie, why did you change your last name to Cole? Was it for James? Or… me?”

“Caleb, I know who you are. It doesn’t matter what I call you as long as it’s what you want.” She sighed. “I did it because…” She shifted uncomfortably.

“You loved me.” I closed my eyes. “Trust me—I didn’t miss the past tense. I understand.” I didn’t understand.

“Caleb, it’s not…” she whispered and pressed closer. “It’s just… what you said about change. We’re changing. We’re both different, and until we know what that means, I don’t think—”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Livvie. I just want to be here. Right now. With you. Fuck the rest of it, because I don’t care. If there’s anything else you need to tell me, please do it now. Let’s get it over with and tomorrow we can start over. I want to start over, Livvie. Can we do that?” I kept stroking her back. It kept me grounded.

“I’d like that. But what will we tell people? We can’t tell them the truth, and I can’t leave my life behind again, Caleb.”

“What about the FBI? Are they still watching you?” I had a momentary flash of rage as I imagined coming face to face with Agent Reed. I’d pound his face into the ground—present tense!

“I’m supposed to meet Reed on Thursday. I know you don’t like him. Hell, I’m not sureIlike him.” I could hear the smile in her voice and it irritated me. She’d compared him to me one too many times. “But he’s a good guy. He wanted to check on me since I told him I felt like someone was watching me. Aside from him and Sloan, I don’t deal with the FBI. I don’t have anything they want.” She nudged my ribs. I sighed.

“Well, youdidn’t. You do now. With any luck you’ll be able to get rid of Reed easily. Tell him you have a secret admirer from school or something. I’m sure you do anyway. If you tell him there’s nothing for him to look into, he’ll be suspicious.” A voice in my head asked me if I could get away with getting rid of him for good. I calmly ignored it. I was determined to be someone different. I didn’t want to be a killer anymore.

“Okay, but what about the other stuff?”