MARRY YOUR KILLER
Chapter Twenty-Four: The Night Before
---
The night before the wedding, the house was quiet.
Too quiet.
Jay stood in her room, the white dress hanging on the door, her mother's pearls on the nightstand. She had tried on the dress once. It fit. It was beautiful. It felt like someone else's life.
She hadn't slept in days. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw her uncle's face. Every time she opened them, she saw the contract in Keifer's desk drawer. Twenty-three pages. Two years. A promise that was starting to feel like a lie.
There was a knock at the door.
She didn't answer. The door opened anyway.
Ci N stood in the doorway. His hair was a mess. His shirt was inside out. He was holding a bag of something that smelled like it had been fried sometime last week.
"You didn't eat dinner," he said.
"I wasn't hungry."
"You haven't eaten in three days."
"I've been busy."
He walked into the room. He sat on her bed. He opened the bag. The smell of fried food filled the space between them.
"Eat," he said.
She sat beside him. She took a piece of something. She didn't taste it.
"Tomorrow," he said.
"Tomorrow."
He leaned against her. His head on her shoulder. He was so small. He always would be.
"You don't have to do this," he said.
"I know."
"You could run. We could run. All of us. We could go somewhere they'd never find us."
She put her arm around him. He leaned into her.
"I can't run," she said. "This is my family. This is my war."
"Then let me fight with you."
"You are fighting with me."
He was quiet for a moment. Then he pulled away. He looked at her. His eyes were wet.
"You're going to marry him tomorrow," he said.
"Yes."
"You're going to marry him, and then you're going to spend two years pretending you don't love him."
She didn't answer.
He took her hand. His fingers were small. They always would be.
"I see the way you look at him," he said. "I see the way he looks at you. I see the way you stand closer to him than you stand to anyone else. I see the way you reach for him when you think no one is watching."
She looked at their hands. His fingers laced with hers.
"I see it," he said. "And I think you're both idiots."
She almost smiled. "You're always calling us idiots."
"Because you are." He squeezed her hand. "You signed a contract because you were scared. He signed a contract because he was scared. And now you're both standing in the same house, pretending you don't want the same thing."
She looked at him. His face was young. Too young. But his eyes were old.
"What if I'm not scared?" she asked.
He smiled. It was small. Sad. Real.
"Then you tell him," he said. "Tomorrow. After the wedding. After everyone leaves. You tell him."
She pulled him close. She held him. He was so small. So warm. The only person in the world who had never asked her to be anything but herself.
"I love you," she said.
He held on tighter. "I know."
---
Percy found Keifer in the garden.
The sun had set. The flowers were dark. The stars were coming out, faint against the city lights. Keifer was sitting on the steps where he had sat with Jay, where he had held her hand, where he had kissed her for the first time.
Percy sat beside him. He was holding two beers. He handed one to Keifer.
"You didn't eat dinner," Percy said.
"I wasn't hungry."
"You haven't eaten in three days."
"I've been busy."
Percy opened his beer. He took a long drink. He looked at the house, at the window where Jay's room was, where the light was still on.
"Tomorrow," Percy said.
"Tomorrow."
Percy was quiet for a moment. Then he set down his beer.
"I'm supposed to give you advice," he said. "I'm your best man. I'm supposed to say something wise. Something that will prepare you for marriage."
Keifer looked at him. "And what are you going to say?"
Percy smiled. It was small. Tired. Real.
"I'm going to say that you're an idiot."
Keifer almost smiled. "Everyone keeps saying that."
"Because it's true." Percy leaned back. His hands were behind his head. His face was turned toward the sky. "You signed a contract. Two years. Then she leaves. That was the plan."
Keifer didn't answer.
"That was the plan," Percy said again. "And then you fell in love with her. And now you don't know what to do."
Keifer looked at his hands. They were steady. They were always steady.
"I don't know what to do," he said.
Percy sat up. He looked at his friend. His brother. The man who had saved his sister's life.
"Then figure it out," Percy said. "Tomorrow. After the wedding. After everyone leaves. You figure it out."
Keifer looked at the house. At the window where Jay's light was still on.
"What if she doesn't want me to?" he asked.
Percy smiled. He stood up. He put his hand on Keifer's shoulder.
"She signed a contract to leave," Percy said. "And then she moved into your house. She drinks your coffee. She sits in your study. She sleeps in your guest room. She's been here for weeks, and she hasn't left."
Keifer looked up.
"She's not going anywhere," Percy said. "And neither are you."
He walked back to the house. He didn't look back.
---
Lyra was in her corner.
The hospital had released her that morning. Her head was still bandaged. Her face was still pale. But she was standing. She was watching the window. She was waiting.
Alex was beside her. His chair was pulled close. His coffee was cold in his hand. He had been there since she came home. He hadn't moved.
"You should sleep," she said.
"I'm not tired."
"You should."
He looked at her. His face was tired. His eyes were dark.
"I'm not leaving," he said.
She looked at him. His hair was messy. His shirt was wrinkled. He looked like he had been sitting in that chair for days, which he had.
"I know," she said.
She reached out. Her hand touched his. Her fingers were cold. He held them anyway.
"Tomorrow," she said. "Jay gets married."
"I know."
She looked at the window. At the garden where Keifer was sitting alone. At the house where Jay was waiting.
"She's scared," Lyra said.
"She's always scared. She just doesn't show it."
Lyra looked at him. His face was close. His eyes were soft.
"How do you know?" she asked.
He smiled. "Because I know what it looks like. When someone's scared and trying not to show it."
She looked at their hands. His fingers laced with hers.
"You're not scared of anything," she said.
"I'm scared of losing you."
She looked at him. His face was open. His eyes were steady.
"You're not going to lose me," she said.
He squeezed her hand. "I know."
---
Care found Cole in the kitchen.
He was making tea. His hands were steady. His face was calm. He looked at her when she walked in.
"You should sleep," he said.
"I'm not tired."
"Neither am I."
She walked to the counter. She stood beside him. He handed her a cup. She took it.
"Tomorrow," she said.
"Tomorrow."
She looked at the cup. The tea was dark. It smelled like honey.
"You're not nervous," she said.
"I'm always nervous."
"You don't show it."
He smiled. "Neither do you."
She looked at him. His face was close. His eyes were soft.
"I threatened to kill you," she said.
"You threatened to stab me with a scalpel. There's a difference."
"You almost died."
"I didn't almost die. You held a scalpel to my throat. There's a difference."
She almost smiled. "There's not."
He reached out. His hand touched her face. His fingers were warm.
"You're not going to kill me," he said.
"How do you know?"
He stepped closer. His face was inches from hers.
"Because you like me," he said.
She stared at him. Her face was calm. Her eyes were not.
"You're annoying," she said.
"I know."
"You're loud."
"I know."
"You don't respect personal space."
He smiled. "I'm working on it."
She kissed him.
It was quick. Soft. A question and an answer all at once. She pulled back. His hand was still on her face. His eyes were wide.
"What was that?" he asked.
"A warning."
He laughed. He pulled her close. He kissed her again.
"Consider me warned," he said.
---
Mica was in the study.
Her laptop was open. Her fingers were moving. The map on the wall was covered in pins and strings and photographs. Her uncle's face was at the center. The Shadow Market's name was written in red.
Calix was beside her. He was sitting in the chair he had claimed as his, the one he had been sitting in for weeks, the one she had stopped telling him to leave.
"You should sleep," he said.
"I'm not tired."
"You haven't slept in three days."
"I've been working."
He leaned forward. His face was close to hers.
"You found something," he said.
She didn't answer.
"Something you don't want to tell her. Not tonight. Not before the wedding."
Mica's fingers stopped. She looked at him. Her face was calm. Her eyes were not.
"Meridian Group," she said. "The money. The weapons. The war. It's not just her uncle."
Calix waited.
"Someone else is pulling the strings. Someone who's been doing it for thirty years. Someone who's still there."
She looked at the map. At the name at the center. At the face of the man who had been running from the truth his whole life.
"Her father," Calix said.
Mica didn't answer.
He reached out. His hand touched hers. She didn't pull away.
"Tomorrow," he said. "After the wedding. You tell her."
She looked at his hand on hers. His fingers were warm.
"And if she doesn't want to know?" she asked.
He squeezed her hand. "She wants to know. She's been waiting her whole life to know."
Mica looked at the map. At the truth she had found. At the truth that would change everything.
"Tomorrow," she said.
---
Jay stood at the window.
The garden was dark. The stars were out. Keifer was sitting on the steps, alone, his head bowed, his hands empty.
She watched him for a long time.
She thought about the contract. Twenty-three pages. Two years. A promise to leave. She thought about the first time she saw him, across her mother's living room, his smile warm, his eyes cold. She thought about the rooftop, the notebook, the truth he had given her when he didn't have to. She thought about the street, the men, the way he had come for her like a storm. She thought about the garden, the mud, the way he had thrown it at her and laughed. She thought about the hospital, the hallway, the way he had kissed her like she was something worth keeping.
She thought about the key in his pocket. The box on the shelf. The contract they had folded and put away.
She opened the window.
The air was cool. The garden was quiet. Keifer looked up. He saw her. He didn't move.
She climbed out the window.
She walked across the garden. Her feet were bare. Her hair was loose. Her dress was white, the one she had been wearing all day, the one that wasn't her wedding dress.
She sat beside him on the steps. Her shoulder touched his. Her hand was in her lap.
"You should sleep," he said.
"So should you."
He looked at her. His face was tired. His eyes were dark.
"Tomorrow," he said.
"Tomorrow."
She took his hand. Her fingers laced with his. His skin was warm.
"I'm not going to leave," she said.
He looked at their hands. His thumb moved against her skin.
"The contract—"
"Forget the contract."
He looked at her. His face was close. His eyes were steady.
"You signed it," he said.
"I signed it because I was scared. I was scared of wanting something I couldn't keep."
She moved closer. Her face was inches from his.
"I'm not scared anymore," she said.
He kissed her.
The stars were out. The garden was quiet. The contract was in a drawer somewhere, waiting to be forgotten.
Tomorrow, she would marry him. Tomorrow, she would stand in front of their families and say words that were supposed to bind them together. Tomorrow, she would start the two years that were supposed to end in leaving.
But tonight, she was sitting on the steps, holding his hand, kissing him in the dark.
And she wasn't going anywhere.
---
END OF CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR