Page 84 of Split You Open

My eyes land on Blair’s face. Surely she can understand⁠—

Blair takes a step back. Softly, she whispers, “You manipulated us all…”

Something tightens in my chest.

The way she says it; with such heartache and horror, it makes me sound evil. It wasn’t like that. Not ever.

I wanted Blair and I wanted what was best for her. This was it. This very scenario where she’s surrounded by people who understand and adore her, just like me but in a less perverse way.

Beside me, Wes says in a low, shaky voice. “You’re sick, Ledger. There are people out looking for Blair right now. You put her life, and ours, in danger for some sick and twisted plan.”

I scoff in disbelief. Judging by the varying degrees of anger and horror on their faces, they’re still not seeing it.

“The idea was never to put her in any real danger,” I explain through gritted teeth as frustration begins to take over. “The plan was for Blair to kill Earwig the day he came for her—I knew he’d be an easy one to take down. Once she got here, there wasn’t supposed to be anyone else gunning for her.” I look at Blair. “You’d always wonder if there was anyone else out there looking for you, but that danger wouldn’t exist. And Anchor? He’d be out there searching for a threat that was already eliminated. It’s not my fault Earwig outsourced this job. You have to believe me!”

“But where’s Dad now?!” Blair cries out, her composure slipping. “He could be dead! You sentenced us both to death and you’re here acting like everything is fine.”

“He is fine! I reached out to him before I took off after you and Rhett. I told him about Dixie—how he’s funding this hit—and then turned off my phone.”

The shriek that slips past Blair’s lips echoes loudly, causing everyone to flinch in surprise, including me.

“W-what?” Her eyes water as she stares down at me. “How? You told me that⁠—”

“I only told you that he got rid of his phone so you wouldn’t reach out to him. He’s had it on him this whole time. He’s been checking in from time to time.”

I thought she’d be relieved.

Instead, her expression cracks. The pain in her face causes my heart to stutter.

Swallowing hard, I call to her, “Blair…”

Suddenly, she spins around, giving me her back. I start to open my mouth to apologize for withholding that information, but when her hand comes to her stomach and she bends at the waist, my words die on my tongue.

Blair sucks in a sharp breath.

When she lets it free, it comes out as a soft sob. Her shoulders tremble and another sob slips out.

The sound tears through me more swiftly than a bullet.

But it’s the sight of her tears falling from her cheeks onto the cement floor that causes my heart to tear itself in half. All the satisfaction deflates from me. I never, in a million years, wanted to hurt her. It's the opposite. I wanted to fix her life. Make her happy. Give her the world she so desperately wants.

It’s why I never pursued her myself—other than out of respect for Anchor.

I know I’m rough around the edges. There’s nothing about me that’s worthy of Blair. I don’t have Wes’s sweet and patient nature, I don’t joke around easily like Santi, and I can’t even relate to most of Blair’s loneliness like Rhett can. They complete her.

Seeing her like this has me rethinking everything.

I’ve been so fucking sure of myself that I never once considered the fact that Blair wouldn’t appreciate any of this.

“Blair…” I croak out.

She straightens swiftly. When she turns to face me, there’s an angry blaze glittering back at me.

Oh, fuck.

Before I can brace myself, Blair lunges at me.

Her fists might be smaller than Wes’s, but Blair knows exactly where to land a punch to make it effective. I’m hit with a right hook and then a cross jab across the face. She takes great care in making sure to hit where I’ve already been struck.