A Harmless Little Ruse (Harmless #2)

Not this.

Not ever this.

“See what?”

“You, Drew. You make sense to me.” Her palm flattens over her heart, fingers tickling the base of her throat. “That was the hardest part about what happened to me. The fact that I couldn’t reconcile the man I knew with the man who acted the way you did. You weren’t the same person. But now I understand.” Shallow breaths turn deep as her chest rises and falls, the sound of her inhales and exhales mimicking the ocean behind her.

Her eyes are my moon and stars. “I am so, so sorry for what they did to you.” Even without moonlight, I can see the shine of tears pooling in her eyes. “But knowing the whole truth makes me so relieved.”

Relieved?

“And pissed.”

That’s more like it.

“We’re – you’re – I -- ” A ragged breath turns Lindsay raw and real as a breeze blows her hair across her face, the stray strands not tied up in her pony tail catching in her mouth, shading her eyes for a moment. “For four years I felt like this damaged little thing. The fucked up little girl who no one trusted. Because I – because you didn’t care.”

“Lindsay.” Her name is a vow coming out of my heart, into my throat. “That’s not true.”

“I know it’s not. I know,” she whispers intensely, stepping toward me, closing the gap. “I know. And this sounds so awful – so wretched – but I have to say it. And if you hate me for it for the rest of my life, then I’m sorry, Drew.”

“Say it.” I brace myself.

“I -- ” She hesitates, swallowing hard, the night air stifling, smashing me into myself, turning me inward.

I reach out and rest my fingertips on her elbows. “Say it,” I whisper, destroyed by touching her, feeling unworthy.

“Now we’re equals,” she says, chin up, eyes blazing.

“Equals?” I choke out. Not what I expected to hear.

“I’m not the only one they hurt. We have a bond that is deeper than I ever imagined. We’re linked in ways that are unfathomable,” she explains, tilting her head as she studies my reaction.

A loud puff of air pours out of me. I’ve been holding my breath.

“This isn’t how I want to be bonded to you. Not from shared pain.”

“It’s not my choice, either. But it happened. It’s there. It will always be there, and those assholes are blind to what they really did to us.”

“Blind to what?”

“To the fact that they thought they were taking our power away.” A look of marvel washes over her face. “Don’t you see, Drew? If I could go back four years ago, I’d stop what happened.”

“So would I! In a fucking heartbeat.” As if on cue, my heart smacks up against my ribs like it’s trying to escape and go backwards in time to fight.

“But we can’t.”

I grab her arms, hard, as if I’m pulling the kernel of what she’s saying out of her. I don’t understand her words. This is the most honest conversation I’ve ever had with a person, and I can’t believe it. “Why are you saying all this, Lindsay? I failed you. I failed you.”

“No. They failed me. They failed humanity. You’re human, Drew. You couldn’t stop them. I spent all those years thinking you wouldn’t stop them, but you couldn’t.”

“I can now. I will now.”

“Yes. We can now. We. Us. Together. We’re stronger together than we ever were apart. That’s the secret, Drew. This is who we are now.” Her hand reaches for my heart, pressing. “They thought they were isolating us, taking away our power. But we’re more than that. And I’m not alone.”

I grab her hand and hold it like it’s the key to every mystery in the world. “You were never alone. Not in here.” I push her hand against my chest.

“I wanted to believe that. Even when every piece of evidence showed the opposite, I couldn’t let go of loving you.”

“Thank you.” My stomach unclenches. She slides her hands to my waist and pulls in for an embrace.

“You’re shaking,” she mutters into my shirt.

I ignore the comment. She’s not wrong. “When did you become so wise?” I ask.

“Not wise.”

“Do you have any idea how hard I’ve worked to hide what they did to me? Especially from you?” I expect her to look at me, but she stays in my arms.

Thank God.

“You never had to. You never have to hide who you are from me, Drew.”

“What they did to us isn’t who we are, Lindsay.”

She nods, the movement warm and sweet.

“Suddenly, revenge feels more immediate,” she mutters into my chest. “More possible. But for different reasons and with different goals.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, pretty sure I know the answer. My body is still on edge from this entire, surreal conversation. Lindsay knows the whole truth now. All of it.

And she’s relieved? She feels closer to me? I’m not rejected?

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