Broken Pretty Things by Amber Faye
Chapter 55
Six weeks later…
“Is the ribbon really necessary?”I ask, lowering my sunglasses so they perch on the end of my nose.
Gunnar and Logan each have an end and they’re tying the shiny red ribbon across the ugly double doors that lead into the abandoned warehouse.
The Palace.
Affectionately named that because it’s a shitheap, but it’s our shitheap. “Was your whole life really necessary?” Logan asks, grunting as he finishes tying the knot.
“Good one,” I mumble, rubbing at my bare arm. It feels weird now that the cast is off, but I’m more than happy to have all my limbs back in action.
“Don’t listen to him, Killer,” Gunnar says, flashing me a white-toothed smile. The nickname gets under my skin just as much as it did in the beginning — just in a different way. It reminds me of everything we all went through to get here, and I feel like we all need the reminder sometimes. “He’s just pissed off because your party is going to be better than his.”
“Anything would be better than that night,” Larissa points out the obvious, folding her arms and looking up at the sunset. “Do we have enough time to set up?”
“And, more importantly,” I pipe up, “isn’t this tacky as hell? Throwing a party here again?”
Hero slings an arm around mine, leaning her head on my shoulder. “No, we’re taking control of the memory. Creating new ones. Spencer Rayne has no power here anymore.”
“Spencer Rayne has no power, period,” Gunnar says viciously, giving up on the perfect ribbon placement and throwing his hands in the air. “He’s paralyzed forever, and he’s in jail longer than that.”
“I can’t believe it,” I mutter, yet again. “I really thought he’d get away with it.”
“The rumor mill sometimes works in our favor,” Gunnar said. “And hopefully Torrent Bay will get used to having hard video evidence before they try to take somebody down again.” I look at him expectantly while he finishes fist bumping Logan. “Including me,” he says, throwing out his arms as he walks over to me. He catches me by the waist and spins me out and then into his chest again, holding onto my hands. “Happy birthday,” he murmurs against my cheek, swaying us left and right.
“Get a room,” Logan barks.
“I’m not sure I’m so crazy about still being friends with him,” I whisper to Gunnar, who just laughs. It is a joke, though … Logan has been a pretty good friend through all this aftermath. Not just to me, but to Gunnar. Getting through Ransom’s sentencing and first few weeks serving time for drug distribution, and then JJ and Spencer’s trials, has been rough on all of us. Spencer Rayne has two life sentences. JJ Waller has a couple of years — less, if things go well with his psychiatrists.
It’s nice that, this time, we managed to stick together through all the bad.
“People are starting to arrive,” Larissa squeaks in excitement. To her credit — maybe — learning that her secret boyfriend was a bonafide psychopath has done nothing to quell her bubbly spirit. I’m not so sure I’d ever trust Larissa with anything ever again, but she did go through a lot with the trials, giving her testimony over and over again, and she has been nothing but kind to me since the day at the lakehouse. “Are you really doing a whole-ass speech, Prez?”
“Has he ever turned down the chance to make a speech before?” I ask. Larissa tilts back her head and laughs.
* * *
“Thank you for coming tonight,”I say, placing myself right in front of the doors to the Palace. “I’m pretty happy with what we’ve done with the place. I think you guys will be too. The music system is back in business, and the tables are stocked with chips, dip, drinks.
“The only real difference with the place is in the woods out back. In a little clearing, we laid out a shrine to Cole. Laminated our favorite pictures, some cards, teddy bears, flowers, whatever anyone wanted to bring and lay out. I had my family spring for a couple of benches so anyone can sit and just be there for some peace and quiet.
“I think Cole would have liked it.” I clear my throat, feeling for a second like my collar is too tight. But I keep going. My audience is big, silent, listening. “I can see him now, sitting on the bench, reading the cards. Laughing. In my imagination, sunlight spills through the trees, brighter than I’ve ever actually seen it get out here in real life.
“He might not have committed suicide, but my best friend was hurt, torn, suffering in ways that none of us fully knew or understood. And maybe it wasn’t his choice to go, but maybe he really is happier now. His life was taken from him, from all of us, so cruelly and so early, but if we feel any drive to make some sense of this — and we as humans tend to — I think the takeaway here is pretty simple:
“Believe the best in each other. Whether that means try to believe that everybody is telling the truth as they see it, or believe that even if everything looks pretty bad … maybe you’re not seeing the whole picture. It takes a pretty big man to admit that he might not have seen the whole story.” I grin, hearing the smattering of laughter as people know I mean me. “It takes an even bigger man to try harder next time, and promise to keep trying to be better every day. All of us need to look inward and think: Am I a safe person to talk to? If not, why not?”
I reach out and grab Andie’s hand, and she smiles up at me and squeezes. “But I don’t know. I don’t know anything. I just figured out a long time ago that if I talk and talk … eventually, I get what I want. And what I want right now is—” I turn and take her small, soft hand to my lips, grazing over her knuckles.
“If he proposes right now I’m going to lose my shit,” I hear Logan mutter to Larissa, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “And not in a good way.”
“Andrea Palmer,” I finish, despite them. “You’re all I want.”
I drop to my knee. The crowd gasps. Someone literally screams. I pull out a small box and she doesn’t take it, frozen except for rapidly blinking eyes, until I push it into her hands.
“Open it.”
She does, her eyes still fixed on me, and slowly narrowing. “Don’t be an idiot in front of all these people,” she whispers, but one half of her mouth is twisted up into an amused smile.
“You’re my best friend in the world. One day you will be my wife.” She looks inside the box and one eyebrow quirks. She pulls out a shiny silver coin, twisting it in her fingers. “But for now, I just want to ask you for your forgiveness.”
“What is this?” she hisses. Laughing, I get back to my feet.
“Malaysian Ringgit. I pulled some strings. Some small strings. You’re coming with me to Borneo in the summer, if you want to. And then, after that, I’m coming with you wherever you decide to go. You can’t get rid of me.”
She puts the coin back in the box, shakes her head, and flings her arms around my neck. “You’re such a goddamn drama king.” We kiss gently, long, and slow. Breathing each other in. The crowd cheers.
“You love it.”
“I love you,” she admits.
“But do you love me enough to tell me you love me?” I joke.
“Yes,” she says. She kisses me again. “I love you.” Need courses through me so powerfully and suddenly that I have to pull her against me to hide the rapid tenting in my pants.
“Dismissed,” I yell past her head at the crowd. “Go party, what the hell are you waiting for?”
“For you to cut this stupid-ass ribbon, Prez,” Logan yells through cupped hands. I pick Andie up by the waist.
“You do it,” I toss over my shoulder. “I’ve had enough of an audience for today.” That last part was just for her. For my girlfriend. She squeals with laughter as I carry her away to my car. “Ten minutes tops, and then we’ll go right to your birthday party, Killer, OK?”
“OK, Mr. President,” she says, exaggeratedly.
“Please,” I halt her. “That nickname is really pretty offensive.”
Luckily, she is perfect, and that makes her almost fall over laughing. She is perfect. So fucking perfect. So fucking mine. Every day from now until forever.
And that’s the truth.
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