Page 104 of Heart Over Heels

Beck was next to speak, but not to us. He was on his phone and walking away while Colette folded Zephyr in her arms and started speaking to him softly in French.

The twins pressed against each other, tails entwining, as Callum buried his face in his brother’s shoulder.

Elliot shrank inside his hoodie, his expression neutral but his eyes blazing red.

Oz surveyed the group from behind his glasses’ lenses. When his gaze found me, it held the question I’d been expecting.

How did you know?

One by one, everyone moved past me, and this time, I didn’t stop them. They crept into the ruin while Beck paced the sidewalk, barking into his cell about insurance deductibles and vandalism.

Darby stayed too. He stood close enough to touch, but I didn’t dare. His body language was closed, arms wrapped around himself and shoulders hunched. He was withdrawn. From this. From me.

When I swallowed, my throat felt as rough as if it still held the desert sand from my memory.

“Darby…”

He met my gaze, and his eyes were dull and lightless. “Who did this?”

“Antonella Rossetti,” I replied. My voice stretched thin, like it was being pulled out of me. “Or someone working for her. I’m not sure.”

His lips bent in a frown. “Youused to work for her.” When I didn’t refute it, he asked, “Do you still?”

I wanted to say no or claim that it was complicated, but the truth was painfully simple.

“Yes.”

Darby’s body stiffened, every muscle tight with tension and his fists clenched at his sides. “You’ve been working for the angels this whole time?”

It was practically a shout; an accusation I flinched away from.

“I tried to quit,” I blurted. “Ididquit, but then they showed up at my house. They…” My breath buckled. “They threatened Molly. I had to protect her, Darby. And I was trying to protect you too. All of you. I never wanted this. I didn’t want?—”

“You convinced us to leave,” he cut in. “And you knew.All day,you knew. About this?” He stabbed a finger toward theransacked club while my mind flooded with the most damning things.

When he told me about the dolls and how they died, I knew.

When we shared a bike and claimed first place on a digital speedway, I knew.

When he giggled with delight over a gaudy pink lava lamp, I knew.

And I’d known for days before that. I’d passed up chances to kiss him because I feared he would taste my deception. I’d longed to have him in my bed but instead lay there alone because I wouldn’t lure him closer while knowing this would push him away.

Absolutely, I knew.

“They said it would be worse if you were here,” I managed at last. “That you’d be in the way. I was afraid they might hurt you.”

Darby turned to look at the club again, surveying the visible damage. I couldn’t help but speculate how far it went. Was the upstairs ruined too? The rooms where they slept? The kitchen where they shared meals? The couches where they curled up together?

Darby’s face twisted viscerally as he murmured, “Thishurts me.”

This was the explosion. A bomb had detonated in the air between us, and I was stuck dodging shrapnel while straining to see a way out of the cloud.

“But it’s just stuff,right?” I asked, not believing it even as I said it. “Stuff can be fixed or replaced. It’s better than if it was you. What if you’d been here when it happened? What if they’d done this to you? To your boys?”

“It’s notjust stuff,Mercer.”

Mercer. Not Mercy. Because I deserved none.