Page 100 of The Square

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE - DANNY

“Why would Larstry to kill you, then?” Russell asks.

Christine goes stiff in my arms.

This shit is getting complicated. More complicated.

“Well,” Alec says, threading his fingers into his already mussed-up hair.

I like him like this, I realize. Messy and disheveled. Probably not the best time to reflect on how goddamn sexy Alec is, but there you have it.

“Well, what?” Charlie asks. “Fucking spit it out, mate. There’s no room for heavily guarded secrets. We helped you, now you need to tell us exactly what’s what.”

“It was me,” Christine says.

“Christine,” Alec interjects.

“No,” she continues, disconnecting herself from my embrace. “They need to know. It’s not fair. There’s a little girl involved now and… and it’s just not fair.”

I know this is hard for her. Hell, just seeing her in that back garden yesterday told me everything. The look of longing on her face was unmistakable. She was jealous. That’s the life she never had. That’s the child she never had. And whether she wants to admit it or not, she won’t be able to live with herself if she’s the reason it all gets ripped away from Andra.

Oh, I have no illusions about Eliza. Christine and Eliza, that’s never going to resolve into anything more than hate and anger.

But Andra is another story.

Christine is, and always has been, one of the most ruthless people I’ve ever met. I’ve known that since she admitted, without a second thought, that she wanted to poke the pretty out of an innocent blue beetle when she was ten years old.

I’ve come to terms with who she is because it fits with who I am. Who Alec is too. She’s damaged and hard. I’d even go so far as to call her cruel. Maybe even savage. At least to her enemies and targets.

She has come to terms with who she is too, I’m sure of it.

But she would not wish her life on anyone, especially a child.

And she proves me right when she says, “This is all my fault,” and proceeds to catch the Watsons up—completely—on what happened.

She explains, and Alec and I let her. We remain quiet as she recounts waking up in that apartment. The ambush at my garage—did I really have a custom bike business? I can barely remember that life back in the city with Brasil. Can barely recall the four years of separation.

She tells them about the ambush at the glass house next and how Lars and she were presumably working together. How she was confused and had to make a decision on who to trust.

How she chose me.

How Alec and Lars ended up going over that waterfall.

Eliza huffs out a sigh of disgust at this point.

But Alec says, “Don’t,” in a harsh enough voice that Eliza shuts her trap and lets Christine continue.

But there’s not much to say after that. Christine throws up her hands. “I don’t remember much more. I think that concussion I got after falling off the roof was worse than I figured. I just don’t know why I would do all that. And why, for fuck’s sake, I’d take up with Lars to bring Alec down.”

“I do,” Eliza snarls. “You were jealous—”

“That’s enough,” Charlie interjects. “Shut up, Eliza.”

“We taking her side now, luv?”

“I was there, remember?” Charlie says. “I was with her after she lost the baby.”

And this is, I suppose, where gaps get filled in.