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Firefly (Redemption Book 2) by Molly McAdams (25)

 

 

I’d known as soon as I’d woken this morning I wanted to get away. It was like Beck had said the day before—Kieran and Mickey were gone. They weren’t breathing down our necks . . . and I knew Beck would be gone doing errands for Kieran.

With Kieran’s proposal, I’d known I wouldn’t be able to handle staying on Holloway with nothing to do but stare out a window. I needed to have a day where that suffocating weight wasn’t pressing down around me—one where I wasn’t worried about getting back before someone noticed I was gone.

After finding out why I was being hunted by the Borellos and that I was the reason Dare’s fiancée had been murdered, it felt impossible to face him.

But I didn’t know how to stay away from him.

So it didn’t surprise me when I found myself walking into Brooks Street Café.

I didn’t look around to see if he was there, I didn’t need to. My body wasn’t thrumming with excitement as if it knew the person I had been made for was close by. I kept my head down as I sank into a booth, and tried to wrap my head around my life, as I had been for so long.

I wondered if it was even possible.

I’d wondered a lot of things lately . . .

I tensed when someone suddenly slid into the booth across from me, then loosed a slow, calming breath when I recognized the older woman.

Dare and Libby’s mom.

My dad killed your husband. Do you even know? What would you say if you did? The ache in my head was nearly as real as the one twisting my stomach.

When tense seconds passed in silence, I ignored the tightening in my throat and managed to say, “Hi, Mrs.—”

“Sofia. Please, just Sofia.”

“Sofia.”

“I called Demitri, he knows you’re here.”

My eyes widened, and I sucked in a sharp breath at his name—that name—being said so casually.

His mom dropped her head into her hand and stifled a laugh. “I’m sorry. Dare. Those kids and their nicknames.” With a roll of her eyes, she murmured, “Maybe one day I’ll catch up with them.”

I forced a twitch of a smile. “I would’ve never known that was his name.” When she lifted her brows in surprise, I explained, “My friend thought he said Darren. I thought maybe that was his real name, and Dare was just a shortened version.”

And what I wouldn’t give for that to be true.

She laughed softly, her tired eyes studying me curiously for a moment. “Every time I see you, I think you look so familiar.”

Because I look like my mom like this, I thought to myself.

With these colored contacts, if I lost the glasses, I looked exactly like she had at my age. And rival families tend to know everything about each other . . . unless the kids are kept sheltered from the world, as I had been.

“Dare thought the same thing,” I admitted, only because I didn’t want to seem rude by keeping silent.

“It’s strange, almost like déjà vu.” She quickly shook her head, then glanced at the delicate watch on her wrist. “Well, I suspect they’ll be here soon, but I wanted to catch you before they arrived.”

I sat silently as she played with a gold wedding band hanging from a chain around her neck, trying not to worry over why she wanted to see me—trying not to apologize for everything my dad had done and demand to know why their family had delivered their share of heartache.

“You make Dem—Dare . . . Dare happier than he’s been in a long time. I don’t know if you know that, or if you’ll ever know.” She eyed me, suddenly wary, then whispered, “But I need to know why you’re here.”

“What?” I asked, stammering over the word when she caught me off guard at the direction of her question.

“You come and go, there’s no way to get in touch with you. I know because they talk, and we’re all in the same place for the time being. Well, Libby talks,” she added quickly. “And it worries me for my son when he’s already suffered so much. I want him to be happy, and I want him to have things he thinks he can’t . . . but I see what he won’t because he’s too caught up in you.”

I stared at her blankly, waiting for her to acknowledge who I was.

“He’s found the first girl to make him feel again, but I would rather him hurt for a while longer than be played by you until you decide you’re done with him and disappear.”

When I realized she wasn’t going to continue—that she was finished with her rant—I let the blank mask lift from my face.

Disappearing was something I’d been planning forever, but it wasn’t something a Borello would know. Hell, Beck didn’t even know.

I thought back through everything she’d said about me, thinking about it through her eyes, a mother looking out for her son whose fiancée had been taken too soon, slowly nodding as I did. “I understand.”

My stare fell to the table as I opened my mouth to speak again. Every explanation to all of her worries was on the tip of my tongue, but somehow felt wrong.

“I could try to reassure you, but they would only be reassurances from a girl you don’t know, and a girl who is already worrying you. They wouldn’t mean much.” I met her steady gaze. “However, he saved me, and I think—given time—I might save him from what’s haunting him.”

“You know,” she assumed, her voice low.

I dipped my head in confirmation. “But he wasn’t the one to tell me.”

I wanted to tell her I was sorry for her loss, because clearly it would’ve been her loss as well, but I didn’t know how when the reason for it was sitting directly in front of her.

Instead, I found myself saying, “The thing is . . . we’re not meant to be. And yet, I’m positive I was made for your son, and he was made for me. I fell in love with him knowing the universe would do anything to prevent it. And it’s an irreversible, world-changing kind of love.”

Sofia studied me for a long while before asking, “And my son knows you feel this way?”

“No,” I answered honestly. “Because like you said . . . I come and go. But I have no intention of playing him and then leaving him.”

“I wasn’t expecting anything that honest, and I don’t think I’ll get anything better than those answers.” She cast me a little grin. “I should probably get back to work before Demitri comes in and catches me grilling you.”

“Sofia,” I called out when she slid out of the booth and turned to leave. “Do you think it’s possible to love someone after a tragedy?”

“You want to know if my son loves you?”

I shook my head, because of all the reasons I’d asked that question, that hadn’t been one of them.

I wanted to know if she thought love was possible after all she’d been through since she’d never married again.

I wanted to know if love was possible for Kieran after everything he’d seen—after losing his best friend. After losing me.

I wanted to know if love was possible for Dare when his heart was so full of hatred and his mind so set on revenge.

I wanted to know if it was wrong of me to love after having witnessed both of my brothers killed in front of me.

I wanted to know from the mother in front of me, because mine had never recovered after the loss of my brothers.

She stepped forward with a soft smile playing on her lips, and bent to rest her arms on the table, her face close to mine. “There are tragedies all around us, Elle. Every minute, every hour, every day. Without love, there would be no reason to stand back up and fight. Without love, there would be no reason to live.”

With a gentle squeeze of my hand, she pushed away from the table and left me alone with my thoughts. Left me alone with hope.

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