The Lonesome Young (37 page)

“We can face this together—”

“No.”

“Fine,” she snapped, her own temper flaring. “Just do it, then. Tell me you don’t love me, and I’ll never bother you again.”

I stood there, staring at her, for a very long time, while my brain shouted at me to say the words. Once and for all to be done with her.

Except I couldn’t. My heart wouldn’t let me.

“I don’t know how to do that,” I said slowly. “Because it’s not true.”

She froze, and then she leapt across the space between us and threw herself into my arms, and I kissed her until neither one of us could breathe.

Chapter 65

Victoria

I
knew it. I
knew
it,” I said, holding him so tight that he couldn’t let me go again. Never again.

He kissed me; hungry, desperate kisses that told me how much it had hurt him to put on that act at school.

“Don’t
ever
do that to me again,” I ordered him, and then I punched him in the shoulder. Hard.

“I won’t. I swear it. I don’t deserve for you to forgive me. I don’t deserve
you
.”

“That’s not you talking. That’s Ethan, or Anna Mae, or any of the idiots around here who judge you for being a Rhodale,” I said firmly. “We deserve each other, and we can’t let them tear us apart.”

Mickey kissed me again, a deep, claiming kind of kiss, and I was dizzy by the time he stopped, but his smile at my dazed expression faded quickly. “If we do this—”

“We’re doing this.”

He nodded. “Okay. We’re doing this. But there’s a lot I need to tell you, and we’re going to have to play by new rules.”

We went to sit in the truck, and he told me about Baron.

“Mickey, no! You can’t—”

“I have no choice,” he said bleakly. “They’ll hurt Caroline and the girls. Or they’ll kill my dad, just to make a statement.”

“You have to move. Take your whole family and go into witness protection or something.” The thought of losing him again when I’d just found him was almost too painful to contemplate, but compared to the danger he was in? There was no choice at all.

“That only works in the movies. We don’t have any information to offer. And we can’t move on our own, because my parents are upside down in the mortgage since the housing market crash. Sheriffs and teachers don’t make a lot of money.”

He took my hand and put it on his cheek, and then closed his eyes. “I only see one way out of this, for now, and that’s doing what Ethan wants. Baron and his gang of criminals can never, ever find out about you. So we have to be icy, distant, and even enemies in public.”

“But only in public,” I said, putting my arms around his neck. “And only until we can figure out a way to escape.”

“I love you, Victoria.” He looked into my heart with his achingly blue eyes. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. I couldn’t think of another way to keep you safe.”

I flinched a little at the remembered pain, but then I nodded. “I understand and I forgive you, but never, ever do that again. I don’t think I could survive it.”

“I promise.”

He kissed me again. “What are we going to do now?”

I took a deep breath and finally dared to say the words that I’d been afraid to let him hear, afraid that he’d have too much power over me if he knew—afraid that the universe would play its merciless games with me if I let the secret out.

“I love you.”

He kissed me and then he cupped my face in his hands and looked intently into my eyes. “Say it again,” he demanded.

“I love you. I don’t know how I know, or when I figured it out, or how I even understand such a huge emotion, but I love you! I love you, Mickey Rhodale, and we’re going to find a way to be together.”

“Tell me again. One more time,” he murmured against my lips.

“I love you,” I whispered.

He smiled at me, and it was like the sun breaking through the clouds on Derby morning.

“I love you, too.”

He kissed me again, and I kissed him, and we kissed each other, and then the fear and anguish and relief and love we’d roller-coastered through for so long took over, and both of us needed to be closer and even closer to each other. When we made love, it was like coming home to the place I’d always dreamed of being; there was such tenderness between us that it soothed and healed the jagged, broken pieces of my heart.

Afterward, we got dressed, and then I sat wrapped in his arms on our mountain for the next couple of hours, deciding what we’d do next. Knowing that whatever we decided to do, we’d do it together. In the distance, the blue Kentucky hills stood silent sentinel, guarding and surrounding us as if reminding us that history and tradition could be built from love and family instead of violence and hatred.

“I love you, Victoria Whitfield.” He took my hand and kissed my fingers, one by one.

“I love you, Mickey Rhodale.”

A Rhodale and a Whitfield, together. Maybe the future didn’t have to carry the weight of the past, after all. Blood might be thicker than water, but love was the most powerful magic of all.

EPILOGUE

Mickey

Two weeks later

I
looked up from my menu, wondering why nothing ever looked good when Victoria wasn’t there to share it with me. But it wasn’t Nora. A man I didn’t recognize, wearing a dark blue suit, stood next to my table at the diner with Mr. Judson.

“Mick, this gentleman would like to have a word with you.”

I nodded slowly, and the man sat down across from me.

“I won’t stay, because I don’t want to compromise you, but this place is quiet enough and far enough off the beaten path that we’ll be okay,” he said. “My partner is outside, and he’ll let me know if that changes.”

“Compromise me?” I suddenly had a bad feeling in my gut.

“I’m Agent Vane, from the FBI. We have reason to believe that you might know a little bit about a gang that calls itself the Red Barons, and specifically about this man.”

He put a glossy eight-by-ten of Baron on the table between us.

“I’m hoping we might be able to help each other out.”

I looked at the picture and then up at Agent Vane, and then, for the first time since Ethan had gotten me into this mess, I smiled.

“What exactly do you want to know?”

Acknowledgments

T
here isn’t enough paper in the world for this, so I’m going to keep it short and save trees.

First, I have to thank my amazing agent, Jim McCarthy, who is always calm when I need him to be but saves me with his wicked sense of humor the rest of the time. Thanks for being my person.

Next, a huge thanks to the unbelievably talented team at Razorbill, who believed in me and the book (the series!) all the way, even when I took crazy left turns. Ben Schrank for his vision, Laura Arnold for her amazing editorial eye, Rebecca Kilman for brilliant editorial insights and brainstorming and for saying “I love your twisty mind!” Also to Tara Fowler and Elyse Marshall for spreading the word to the world, Emily Osborne for the beautiful cover, and Erin Gallagher, Vivian Kirklin, and all of the Razorbill staff for working so very hard for me.

Also, thank you to my amazing friends. A writer’s life is so isolating, and without you, I’d be huddled in the corner watching reality TV. Cindy, Marianne, Eileen, my Flamingos, all of the amazing people on my teenlitauthors group at Yahoo, and my new gang at the Indie Circle. I appreciate the encouragement and advice more than you know. I will bake you all cookies when I’m off deadline!

Thanks to my brother Jerry Holliday, who never even twitches when I call and say, “What kind of gun would a meth dealer carry?” (Because he knows guns, not drugs, I hasten to point out.)

Most of all, thank you to my family. Connor, you are a rock star (or maybe a ninja)! Thanks for the sixteen-year-old-boy perspective. Lauren, my artist, thank you for giggles and hugs and insights. Judd, thanks for love, adventure, crazy laughter, and going along with adopting all those rescue dogs. I couldn’t do any of this without the three of you. (Well, maybe the dog part. But walks would be hard. I get tangled in all those leashes. . . .)