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I catch a glimpse of the mental anguish still riding him, and I touch his hand, trace it to the lines on his forearm. “Was this part of the game? Cutting yourself?”
“For a while, yes. It got me the attention I needed. It got me into Adriana Nathanson’s office.”
“God, Quinn.”
He grabs hold of my hand, and stares deep into my eyes.
“Forgive me, Elyse. I went into this with my eyes shut to everything else but getting my brand of justice for my mother. Even when I realized I wanted you to see me, maybe even save me, I still wasn’t prepared to stop.”
“But I did see you. I knew who you were. What you were. I tried to convince myself it didn’t matter. But it did.”
Bleakness flashes through his eyes. “It still matters, doesn’t it?”
I hesitate. Then go with the truth. “Yes. You need help, Quinn. To help you get over losing your mother that way. But I want to be there for you while you get that help. Maybe I need help myself. I’m not without fault.”
“No. God, you’re perfect.”
“I’m not. You know what I was…what I did in Getty Falls?” I enquire tentatively.
He nods. “I know everything. And you’re still perfect to me. God, I love you, Elyse. I was too twisted to recognize until it was far too late, until you saw nothing but the monster. But I do, baby. I love you. Inside and out, no matter what you’ve done. No matter what.”
My heart shakes, threatens to fly, but I need to state more truths. “I hated you for being two people, but so was I. You signed up for Lucky, but I wanted you to like Elyse, maybe even love her. Having that opportunity taken away from me before it had a chance to grow into something, hurt, and I lashed out at you.”
His head jerks downward, and a lock of vibrant hair falls over his forehead. I brush it back as he links his fingers through mine and stares in fascination at our fused palms. “Sending me away when the FBI rescued you cut me to shreds. The restraining order killed me.”
“I’m sorry. The shock was just too much, you know? I think I filed it because although I wanted to hate you, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, or missing you. It was my way of stopping myself from craving you.”
“And do you, crave me?” he asks.
“I do,” I murmur.
His eyes fire a blaze of silver blue. “Fuck, you don’t know what hearing that does to me.”
“Good things, I hope.”
“Seriously awesome things. I love you. I love you. Please forgive me. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Please give me the chance?”
“You talk a good game, Mr. Blackwood. Let me think on it for a minute.”
We grin at each other for several heartbeats before he sobers. “I’m so glad Fionnella agreed to come find you for me.”
“So am I. Is she…okay now that this is over?”
He nods. “I think we’re both ready to put it behind us, however we can.”
My heart turns over in anger and sorrow for the wrongs done to them.
“I can’t stand the thought that they did that to you and your mother.”
He looks at me solemnly for several beats. Then he nods. “Would you like me to have them killed?”
I gasp. “Quinn. Please don’t joke about things like that.”
He doesn’t reply. I look deeper into his eyes. And shiver. “Please tell me you were just joking?”
He shrugs. “You’re distressed. Forget what I said.”
I shake my head. “That’s…just on the off-chance you weren’t joking, I don’t want to have anyone killed.”