Shattered Dreams (Boys of Bellerose, #3)(45)
“I miss us,” she sobbed again. “I miss this, and I miss our baby. There were many nights I contemplated taking my own life, you know, to escape the pain and misery.”
The thought of Billie not existing in this world was too much to even consider. I’d never have survived it, I knew that for a fucking fact.
“I’m glad I didn’t,” she whispered sleepily. “I wouldn’t want to miss this moment.”
Her hand moved, and I saw that she was reaching back to take Angelo’s as he shifted to spoon her from behind. “We will keep you safe, la mia anima. Close your eyes and try to rest. Flashbacks and trauma episodes are exhausting, but you don’t have to face them alone.”
She released some more sobs, but she was calmer again. “Keep me safe,” she whispered, and then not even a minute later, her breathing evened out and I knew she was asleep. I used to be a fucking expert at the minute changes in her breathing, and it looked like I hadn’t forgotten.
Angelo and I didn’t move, remaining in what was actually a comfortable silence. “You’ve never called her la mia anima before,” I said softly. “It was always amore mio. What does that mean?”
His next words were even softer than mine. “I called her what she owns.”
“Your heart?” I guessed, fairly sure that wasn’t right.
Angelo took a moment to respond. “She does own that, for sure, but more than that… she’s my la mia anima. My soul.”
Wasn’t that the fucking truth. Heart and soul. Life and death.
Billie owned us, and she always had.
twenty
BILLIE
Most of the flight passed with me curled up in the big aircraft bed, snuggled between Angelo and Jace as they slept heavily. Sleep, filled with trauma and agony, only lasted a short time, then I woke and just lay there, listening to my first loves breathe. I felt some joy and peace in this moment, even if it was temporary.
In truth, I didn’t remember everything that had happened before I fell asleep, either, just snippets of conversation and the warm feeling of comfort tempering the acidic burn of betrayal and hurt.
The bedroom door slid open with a quiet sound, and I lifted my head just enough to lock eyes with Grayson. The man who’d killed my parents, killed my baby, and said nothing while charming his way into my pants.
“Get out,” I ordered him in a cold, quiet voice. I didn’t want to wake Jace and Angelo when I suspected they needed this rest even more than me.
Gray just frowned like he was disappointed in my attitude. “Billie, we need to have a conversation.”
I curled my lip. “No. We should have had a conversation months ago. That boat sailed, sank, and disintegrated already. Get. Out.”
His jaw tensed, but he didn’t lose his cool. Gray never did, did he? Always so cool, calm, and collected. Always in control.
“Whatever you think you remember, Billie, I seriously doubt it’s the full picture of what happened that night. Don’t you want to hear my side?” He was trying to appeal to my sense of reason, but I was way past that point. Fuck logic. Fuck reason. I trusted my gut, and it told me I wasn’t imagining things.
“All I need to hear from you is the answer to one question,” I hissed, my glare like venom. “Were you there that night?”
He didn’t flinch. “Yes.”
Like a knife made of pure ice, right in my chest. “Then that’s the only part of your side that matters. Get out, Gray. Pretend we never met, never fucked, never fell in lo—” I cut myself off with a choking sob. “Just get out. I can’t even look at your lying, murdering face.”
He held my gaze a moment longer, his expression utterly unreadable. Then he gave a small nod as he swallowed. “If that’s what will help you process, then I’ll respect your wishes. For now. But when you’re ready to hear the rest of the story, I’ll be waiting.”
I scoffed. “Don’t hold your breath; you’ll be waiting a long time.”
“If that’s what it takes, so be it. I’m not going anywhere.” His stare intensified like he really wanted me to believe him. As if I ever could again. “I won’t force the answers on you, but just know that there’s more to this whole story than even I realized until this week. But for my part in your pain, Prickles, I’ll be eternally sorry.”
He retreated out of the little bedroom, closing the door again behind himself, and I collapsed back into the bed with silent tears tracking down my face. Neither Jace nor Angelo had stirred during my quiet argument with Grayson, and I didn’t want to wake them now.
What had happened to bring them together with me like this? My hazy memory brought up tear-filled statements of regret and love, but my head was a throbbing mess. Maybe I needed an emergency session with Dr. Candace. I’d spoken to her during the week about continuing our sessions via Zoom while we were on tour, and she’d agreed. Thank fuck.
As soon as we got to the hotel in Dublin, I’d send her receptionist a request.
Maybe she could help me work through Grayson’s betrayal. Because as hurt, scared, angry, and heartbroken as I was, I didn’t think I knew everything. I was in shock, with memories of choking on smoke, and terrified. I was smart enough—somewhere in my subconscious at least—to know that my “memory” might not be trustworthy. Or at least not what it seemed.