“Months,” he finally said.
“So all of this—everything that’s happened—was all to get to this point. To set me up so he could save himself. And you went along with it? You dragged me into it, knowing what would happen? I thought we were friends. I trusted you. Did you know that Bones almost killed me that night? Did you know that he beat Becky so badly, she probably won’t be able to use her right eye again? Do you even care?”
Instead of being contrite, Nic’s eyes narrowed. “It was hard for all of us. We were nearing the end of our usefulness, gypsy. Did you think we’d just be able to walk away when Bones was done? Live like normal people? I was trying to save us both.” He paced back and forth in front of her.
“Is Wild waiting around the corner to kill me himself?” she asked.
“Christ, no! I had no idea that when Wild approached me, he had this planned out. It wasn’t until the Luckettes’ party that I knew everything, and by then, it was too late. If I’d crossed him, he would have done worse than kill me.”
“So you framed me for murder?”
Nic drew his fingers through his hair and exhaled sharply. “I thought I could get you out. The jailers there are known for their greed, and I still have the money I took from Bones. But Wild kept me right by his side afterward. The only thing I could do was send that note to Becky, and hope that the man I’ve seen you with cared enough to go get you.”
Her stomach twisted into knots. So much could have gone wrong.
“You were never alone, gypsy. I promised to always look out for you, and I did.”
“By betraying me? By lying? By handing me to Wild on a silver platter?” Arista made a fist and slammed it into his gut. His sudden exhalation did little to quell her anger, and she turned away before he could see the tears in her eyes.
“All you’ve ever wanted was freedom, gypsy. Yet just when you could have taken it, you chose to stay and help a family of strangers. The girl I knew would never have sacrified herself for anyone.”
Arista clenched her hands at her sides. “I am not that girl anymore.”
“I know.” Nic stared at her, as if memorizing every feature. He tilted his head. “You are different. Softer. Even dressed as a boy I can see it. Are you happy, gypsy? Really happy?”
She thought of Grae, of Sophia, of Grae’s parents, and nodded. “I feel like I belong. There are people who care about me. Who want me.”
He lifted his hand and cupped her cheek. “You were always wanted, gypsy. But even a blind man could see you were never cut out for this life.”
He dropped his hand to his pocket and pulled out a stack of papers that had been rolled and tied together.
“This is what you need to blackmail Wild.” He hesitated, and when he looked at her, regret shone from his eyes. “I’m sorry for everything, gypsy. I never meant for you to get hurt.” He took her hand and gently placed the packet in it. His thumb stroked her fingers.
“I had hoped that one day, we could go away together—maybe we still can?”
She sucked in a shallow breath. How long she had wanted, needed, to hear those words from him. If he had told her this on the night of the fire, she would have gone with him without hesitation. But everything had changed in a matter of weeks. She shook her head and pulled her hand from his grasp.
Instead of being angry at her withdrawal, a sad smile curved his lips up. “I knew the answer already. I’ve seen you with him. And I know you almost better than you know yourself.” He gripped both of her shoulders so she would have to look at him. “You do deserve to be happy, gypsy, despite what you’ve been told your whole life. Give him a chance. Only one of us is worthy of a second chance, and it’s most definitely not me.”
Her lower lip trembled, and she swallowed the sob that was building in her throat. “This”—she lifted the packet—“if I use it, he will know that you betrayed him.”
Nic shrugged, as if his life were not in danger now. “It was worth it. Maybe this one good deed will make up for a lifetime of mistakes.”
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t hurt you,” she said, clutching the packet to her chest. “But you should leave London, too.” She wasn’t asking him to come with her. Disappointment flashed over his face before he quickly hid it.
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay.”
It was time to go. It was harder than she thought it would be to say goodbye.
“I just want to…” Three figures stepped from the shadow of the warehouse. Her blood ran cold. Two were great burly men, and the one between them was covered by a long cloak.
“You lied,” she gasped.
Nic spun around, and before she could pull her knife free, he had pushed her behind him. “Run, gypsy.” The fear in his voice was real. He didn’t know these men.
“No, I’m not leaving you alone.”