I turn the car off and then get out. I meet him on the other side of the car and take his hand.
“Let’s go for a walk.” I tug him away from the front of the building and toward the private garden down the street. I know he comes here when he needs to think. It’s like his sanctuary and it seems like the place where he’d be the most calm.
We stop in front of the gate and he realizes what we’re doing. The tiniest of smiles makes his lips twitch.
“How did you know?” he says in a voice so quiet, it’s almost carried away by the breeze.
“Because I love you,” I say, and start pulling myself up. The people who designed the fence made it easy as hell to climb. There are foothold and places to grip everywhere in the form of decorative leaves and vines. I get to the top and look down. He’s watching me.
“You coming?”
“Right behind you,” he says and I drop down to the other side. Moments later he drops and then stands up.
The sun is just setting, bathing the garden in fiery light. The leaves on the trees are lit up and sparkling as the wind moves them.
“Take your shoes off,” he says, leaning down to take off the sneakers he slipped on before we left the house. I’ve still got my heels on from going out with Lo, and I’m more than happy to slip them off. Like at the beach, we stash them near the gate and continue walking barefoot. The grass is cool and makes me shiver.
“You need to talk to someone, Sylas. You really do. You haven’t been living lately,” I say. He sighs and looks up at the sky that’s painted with so many different colors.
“I know. I don’t know what to do with my life anymore. I feel like I’m starting over and that scares me. I’m so fucking scared, Saige.” His words break my heart, but I’m so glad he’s talking to me. So glad he’s not hiding anymore. That he trusts me enough to share these things.
“You can do whatever you want, Sylas. Whatever you want and I’ll support you. If you want to sit around and paint clouds, if you want to flip burgers, if you want to restore vintage bicycles. I don’t care. The world is your oyster, to use a cliché.” He’s got an opportunity, but it’s a terrifying one.
He chuckles a little at my suggestions.
“It’s not that simple. I have the guys. I can’t abandon them, not now especially. Your father has something on all of us that he’s using to keep them working for him.” I know that and it doesn’t make me happy.
“I know. I would love to say I could talk to him and convince him to let it go, but that’s not going to happen. My father is a determined man, and he gets what he wants.” I love him, more than anything, but I don’t always like the things he does.
“I know.”
“What does he have on you?” I ask. I assume it’s something he’s already told me, but I’m not sure what.
“He says he’ll take Lizzy away from me,” he says after a pause.
“No, he wouldn’t do that.” In all the times my father and I talked about Lizzy, it had always been with the assumption of Sylas being involved. He just wanted the chance to get to know her. Not take her from the only family she’s ever known. He never said that. Ever.
“Yes, Saige. He would. I know you love him, but he’s done a lot of things that you don’t know about.” I stop walking and stare at him.
“What are you talking about?” I know there are things Dad hasn’t told me about, but I didn’t know he’d shared them with Sylas. Or that Sylas knew about them.
“Nothing,” he says, closing his eyes. “Nothing.”
“No way. You don’t tease me with information like that and then back off. That’s not fair, Sylas.” He tugs me toward a bench and we sit down. I’ve never seen anyone else in this garden and I wonder how many of the residents of the surrounding buildings actually utilize it.
“I just know some things, Saige. Some of the people he’s killed.” This is not news to me. I know Dad has killed people. He turns to face me, taking both of my hands. It seems like one of us is always holding the other up.
“They weren’t all bad. But some were innocents that had information that he needed. He… he tortured some of them, Saige. He did bad things to get what he wanted.” A block of ice enters my stomach and I want to ask if this is a joke. Or a dream. Or some figment of my imagination. My dad wouldn’t kill innocent people.
And then I want to smack myself for being so incredibly naïve. Of course I think the best of my father. That’s why he hasn’t told me about the people he’s killed. It lets me make up my own conclusions and paint him in the best light in my mind. Make him a hero. He let me do it.
“I wish I wasn’t the one to shatter your vision of him. I hate that I’m hurting you right now.” I swallow and look down at our linked hands. His, rough and big, with thick knuckles and short nails. Mine, thin and short with chipped black polish on my nails and little bits of charcoal left over from my class.
“It’s okay. It’s my own fault. I should have known. I should have known.” I want to smack myself. How could I let myself be so stupid?
“I don’t want to know anything else,” I say. “I don’t want to know anything else about him.” I’ll deal with my father on my own terms. Or not. I have to admit, there’s an allure to just forgetting what Sylas just said and going forward. Not mentioning it again. Just pretending.
I don’t know.
“We are so fucked up, you and I,” I say and he laughs.
“But together, we’re somehow not.”
Twenty
We sit on the bench for what feels like hours. Until night drapes over us like a blanket and the stars come out. We’re in the city, so you can barely see them with all the light pollution, but still. You know they’re there in the sky.
“I thought I was going to feel different, but maybe it’s because I thought he was dead all those years,” he says after a long silence.
“How do you feel?” I ask.
“I feel like this is happening to someone else. That I’m an actor in my own life. I’m used to playing someone else. Being myself isn’t easy.” I know how he feels. I think it’s one of the reasons we work so well together as a couple. If I was just a regular girl, with a regular past, he’d always be hiding his other life and eventually it would break the relationship apart.
“I know what you mean,” I say and I lean toward him. He puts his arm around me and I bring my feet up on the bench.
“I told Lo I was going to call her. She saw my face after I talked to Dad. She didn’t ask me for the details, but she definitely knows I have things that I don’t tell her.” Things that I can’t tell her.
“She’s smart, that Lo,” he says, his fingers playing with my hair.
“I know. I should have known she’d figure it out. I’m a good liar, but Lo is good at spotting lies.” Whenever there’s a celebrity scandal, she always says she knew all along. I ask her how she knows and she just says she gets a feeling. That always makes me roll my eyes at her.
“But she didn’t demand that I tell her and I hope she won’t. I think she was worried I was involved in criminal activity and my body was going to show up in a ditch somewhere or something.” I’m sure she went to the worst-case scenario first.
“You could tell her. At least some of it.” I shake my head.
“No, I really can’t. Because then I’d have to tell her about Dad and that’s not going to happen.” There’s no way out of it without hurting someone.
“Are you going to come with me to talk to my dad tomorrow?” I ask. I hate to bring him up. He’s always going to be a hard subject for us. Especially now that I know he wants to take Lizzy away from Sylas. We are definitely going to have a chat about that. I’m not going to let that slide. No fucking way.