Page 219 of Those Who Are Bound

“I need to be able to talk about Gage with you. I need to remember him with you; remember all of them. I’m your memory, but you’re my memory, too. And I need this, Ellie. We need this.”

Elliott teared up, but she nodded, acknowledging the truth of his words.

“I know our progress will be slow. But I need to remember the stupid shit he did, like when he and your dad were stringing Christmas lights when he was a teenager and he cussed for the first time in front of your parents. I thought he would die that night.”

Elliott smiled through her watery tears. Her dad had turned to stone when Gage had belted out “Fuck!”after hitting his thumb with the hammer. Everyone had frozen, eyes wide, breaths held and—like Becks said—waiting for Gage’s last breath, Gage most of all. But her dad had surprised them all by simply returning to his task after giving Gage a death look for a solid minute. It had taken everyone else another minute to move. Gage had even patted his chest a few times to assure himself that he was still alive.

“Or the time he held you down when you were five and tickled you until you peed yourself.”

In mock horror, Elliott reached out to slap him, trying not to laugh. “Stop it! That did not happen!”

“It did.” He laughed low. “We were at Lake Travis in Austin. You were annoying his friends, like little sisters do, so he sat on you and tickled you. You were shrieking and laughing and then suddenly bawling your head off.”

Elliott scrunched her face up. “I think I remember that.” Her dad had swooped her up and taken her to the lake to wash off while threatening Gage with all sorts of disciplinary action. She remembered Gage protesting his innocence, but she didn’t remember much else. She’d been too busy howling her embarrassed outrage into her daddy’s neck.

“Thank you. I mean, that particular humiliation you could have left in the vault,” she teased. “But I get it. Thank you.”

“Anytime. I mean that.”

She nodded. “What about Lucy?”

“Do me a favor?”

Elliott frowned, but she nodded.

“Let Lucy and me worry about that. I want you to concentrate on you.”

Elliott eyed him suspiciously. “I feel like I’m getting off easy here, and I’m waiting for the catch.”

“Ellie,” he said with a hint of sardonic amusement, “you are not easy. That’s the catch.” He stood up and looked down at her. “Sit. Let me clear out. I don’t want a drawn-out goodbye. Because I’ll be back a lot, I’m guessing.”

Elliott nodded. Becks was a good man; she’d known and trusted him all her life. She’d trusted him with a part of herself that she hadn’t understood; that scared other men. Some could argue that he’d taken advantage. Looking back, he’d tempered her and kept her safe from what could have careened into truly self-destructive habits.

But even then, he hadn’t been able to keep her—as he’d put it—hedonism from being destructive.

He’d taken care of her in more ways than one. He deserved a break; a bit of normalcy and happiness. If Lucy provided that, and Lucy was okay with the arrangement, she wouldn’t begrudge either of them.

“Does she know?”

Becks shook his head. “We just met. We like one another. But that conversation hasn’t happened yet.”

She couldn’t see either Jonah or Killion telling Lucy about her past, not to protect Becks, but to protect Elliott. “It will need to be a conversation sooner rather than later. If you intend for it to go beyond this weekend.”

He nodded. He knew; of course, he knew.

“I fuck up everything,” she tried to joke.

“Nothing’s fucked up. Have faith in her.” He gave her a pointed look. “And have faith in yourself.”

That last was harder. But she nodded. “I feel like I should hug you goodbye or something.”

Becks leaned over and tapped her nose. “Take this for now, kid.”

“A nose boop?”

He chuckled. “Yeah. A nose boop.”

She laughed quietly. It made sense: a new beginning, putting them back into the space where they belonged. “Okay. Have a safe trip back.”

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