The Long Game (The Fixer #2)(83)

Pam shook her head and pulled herself to her full height. She forced her breath to even out but couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down her face. She was as strong a woman as I’d ever seen. And she was broken.

Life had broken her.

And still, she stood. She carried on. Standing there, looking at her, I saw so much of Henry. I saw that she would do anything to protect her children. I saw that she would be horrified by the idea of Henry carrying the weight of the world to protect her.

“Can I see him?” I asked.

“Tess.” Ivy said my name in a way that meant no, with a side of stop asking.

“He saved me,” I told Pam. “He took that bullet for me.”

He betrayed me.

Pam must have heard something in my voice because she looked at Ivy. “It’s fine,” she said. “I’m not sure he’ll be awake,” she told me. “But you can go in.”

I slipped into the room and left Ivy with Pam. Hopefully, between the two of them, they could hold the nurses off long enough for me to say what needed to be said.

To do what needed to be done.

I stood beside Henry’s bed, looking down at him. Tubes covered his face. As I stood there, he opened his eyes. I saw the moment he registered my presence and the moment he remembered everything that had passed between us.

Everything he’d done.

“You used me to try to get to Ivy’s files,” I said quietly. “You let them make you a terrorist.”

Henry closed his eyes, his face taut beneath the tubing, then opened them again. He forced himself to listen, to hear this.

“If you’d told me about Dr. Clark days ago, if you’d told me what you knew, we could have stopped it. The takeover, the executions—we could have told someone, and we could have stopped it.”

Henry stared at me. His green eyes were familiar. Too familiar. I didn’t want to feel what I felt when I looked at him, when he looked at me.

“I don’t forgive you,” I said, my voice low. “I understand how they got to you. I understand what it must have been like when they told you there was a fourth conspirator. I know you didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” Henry hadn’t known that Senza Nome would take over the school. He hadn’t known there would be guns or men or bodies. Dr. Clark had convinced him, the way she’d tried to convince me, that they were the good guys. “I know you would take it back if you could. I know you took a bullet for me.” I stared at him, at those green eyes. “But I do not forgive you.”

The expression on his face told me that Henry Marquette didn’t expect forgiveness.

“You’re going to do something for me,” I told him.

He gave a slight nod under the tubes.

“I want your word, Henry Marquette,” I said, my voice shaking. “Whatever I ask, you’ll give.”

He nodded again, slower this time, his face never leaving mine.

I bent down, until my mouth was very close to his ear. And then I told him my request: “Don’t tell anyone what happened in there. Don’t confess.”

Henry jerked back, but there was nowhere for him to go.

“You gave me your word,” I said. “I don’t forgive you. But you’re not going to confess.”

It was written on his face that he’d planned to. He would surrender himself to justice without another thought.

“Your family doesn’t deserve that,” I said, my thoughts going to his mother, to the sister who woke up screaming at night. “The mercenaries are dead, or they’re gone with Daniela. She swore to me that you’ll be safe, that you’re out, that you’ll never hear from Senza Nome again.” That was the one thing I’d asked of her, in exchange for the deal I’d brokered with Ivy. “Dr. Clark won’t breathe a word to the police about your involvement. The headmaster knew, but he’s gone, and Henry? I haven’t told.”

Now it was my turn to close my eyes.

“I didn’t tell the FBI. I didn’t tell Ivy.” I forced my lids open. “Did anyone else know? Any other students?”

Henry didn’t want to answer. I waited. And eventually, he spoke a single word around the tubing in his mouth, choking it out. “No.”

No, he hadn’t told anyone.

No, I couldn’t make him live with this guilt.

“You gave me your word,” I told him, my voice rough. “You know, and I know, but what we know doesn’t leave this room. Not when you give your statement. Not ever.”

Henry had been vulnerable. He’d been angry and powerless and alone, and Senza Nome had found him. They’d told him a truth he should have heard from me.

“I’m not doing this for you,” I told Henry. “I’m doing it for Asher and for Vivvie and Emilia and everyone at that school who will never be the same.” I pressed my lips together. “I’m doing it for your mom, and for Thalia, and for me.”

I didn’t forgive him. But he was Henry. And for the briefest of moments, he’d been mine.

“I’m doing this,” I said, “for a boy I used to know.”

A boy who’d been lied to. A boy who’d lost too much. A boy who had wanted justice. A boy who’d believed he was protecting the people he loved.

“This secret stays with us,” I said, trailing my fingers over his jaw one last time. “But, Henry? You and I are done.”