The Last Letter(101)

Evidence in hand, I came down the stairs slowly. Ella and Ms. Wilson were still arguing, but Donahue turned toward me. He took in the box and my expression.

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly.

“It’s the only way.”

He nodded as I walked by him to stand next to Ella. The conversation stopped, and all eyes were on me.

“I love you. I’ve always loved you,” I told Ella.

“I love you, too, Beckett,” she responded, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “What are you doing?”

Kissing her was the first thought in my mind—taking that last second with her so I could memorize everything. But I’d taken enough from her already.

“I should have told you, and I know this is about to cost me…you, but I can’t let another kid pay for my mistakes, especially not Maisie.”

The box made a soft scratching sound as I slid it down the table. Ms. Wilson took it and lifted the square lid. “What exactly am I looking at?”

She pulled the evidence of my sin onto the table, and Ella gasped.

“Why do you have my letters? His letters?” she whispered.

I kept my eyes on Ms. Wilson, unable to man up enough to watch the love die in Ella’s eyes when she caught on.

“You said you needed evidence that I knew the kids before the diagnosis, that I had a relationship with them. You’ll find letters in there dating before the diagnosis, as well as pictures drawn by the kids and little notes. I knew the kids, loved them, and loved Ella before Maisie was diagnosed. You have no reason to investigate. If this was just about Maisie’s treatments, I wouldn’t have adopted Colt, too. The truth is that I wanted to be their dad.”

Ms. Wilson sighed, thumbing through the letters. “I’m going to need to step outside and make a call.” She snapped a couple pictures of Ella’s letters and the kids’ pictures, gathered her notebooks, and walked out the front door.

“Ella—” I started.

“Don’t. Not one single word. Not yet.” Her knuckles were white and so were the tips of her fingernails where they dug into her biceps.

Donahue sent me a look full of so much sympathy that I nearly crumbled right there.

Minutes passed. The only sounds amid the tension in the room were the ticking of the clock and the rending of my heart roaring in my ears, consuming every thought. Would it be enough? Had I just given up everything…for nothing?

The front door opened, and Ms. Wilson walked back in, a faint stain of blush on her cheeks. “It appears I have been mistaken. I’m…sorry”—she choked that word out—“to have inconvenienced you. While the situation still remains a very…gray area, you didn’t do anything that would justify canceling the policy, and my supervisor has decided that the investigation is now complete.”

I almost sagged in relief at our win, no matter what it had cost.

“Don’t sound so disappointed. You get to help the good guys today.” Donahue pushed back from the table. “I’ll walk you out.”

Ms. Wilson stood, then gave me a forced smile. “My brother-in-law said you were one of the good ones, if that counts for anything. He said you and the dog were perfectly matched, like nothing he’d ever seen. Even your names meant the same damn thing. It was nice to meet you, Mr. Gentry. Ms. MacKenzie.” She turned to where Havoc sat at my side. “Havoc, right?”

“This way, Ms. Wilson,” Donahue called out. He locked eyes with me as she walked toward him. He knew I was about to have my hands full. “That offer stands. You can always come back.”

I nodded, and they left, the door shutting with an ominous, echoing sound behind them.

“How could you have hidden those from me? Why do you have his letters?” Ella asked, rising from her chair and backing away from me toward the box.

“Ella.”

She put her hands on either side of her head and shook it. “No. No. No. Oh God. The tree house, the same lettering on Maisie’s diploma. Havoc. It’s not a coincidence, is it?”

“No.” All of my life I’d been able to compartmentalize, to turn off my emotions. It was how I survived all those years in foster care, how I existed in special ops. But Ella had changed something in me. She’d opened my heart, and now I couldn’t shut the damn thing down. This pain was excruciating, and it was just the beginning.

“Say it. I’m not going to believe it unless you say it. Who are you?”

My eyes squeezed shut, and my throat closed. It was all I could do to draw a breath. But she deserved the truth, and now Maisie was protected. I’d done all I could to honor Ryan’s request, and the consequences to my heart didn’t matter. I straightened my spine and opened my eyes, taking in the pleading, terrified look in hers.

“I’m Beckett Gentry. Call sign Chaos.”





Chapter Twenty-Two


Ella


This wasn’t happening. I simply refused to believe that any of this was real. But those were my letters on the table, along with the pictures and notes the kids had sent to Chaos.

Beckett.

I looked again, just to make sure I hadn’t lost my mind. Nope. Just my heart.

“How? Why? You told me he was dead!” The words flew out without any pause for him to explain. Maybe it was because I honestly didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want my tiny little glass bubble of contentment to shatter.