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with each person who does, the world becomes a little better and a little safer,” I tell him. “You can break yours too. You just have to forgive, let go of the pain your parents caused you. Own up to the things you’ve done wrong. And try, with every fiber of your being, to start over.”

Beaux’s smile falters as if he’s considering my words. His eyes seem to lose their snake-like glare. His body shifts from its intimidating stance. I hold my breath and pray that something I said will stick with him. There is a wall of silence between us as Beaux thinks to himself, broken only by the single ding of his cellphone. It’s a sharp chime in the space between us, and the color leaves his face instantly.

Beaux closes his eyes and slowly pulls his phone from his front pocket. My chest tightens as he reads the words on his screen. For the first time since knowing him, Beaux Thomas is afraid. This reality only makes my fate even more uncertain. I feel as if I should run, as if I should take the opportunity to escape. But I don’t. I can’t. Because if Beaux is afraid, it can only mean one thing. The brothers know.

Beaux places his phone back in his pocket. With his other hand, he pulls a gun from the inside of his suit jacket. My heart stops within my body. I should’ve run when I had the chance.

“Unfortunately, you won’t be getting that second chance at life,” he tells me. His voice is cold. His eyes are unfeeling. Any ounce of humanity, of hope that remained in Beaux has left him.

“What?” I gasp. “I didn’t . . . I didn’t . . .” I repeat, backing away from him.

“I know,” Beaux says. “Your father did.”

Beaux walks toward me, forcing me further down the hallway.

“I can only imagine it was to take the attention off you. But still, the damage has been done. The media has already reported the developing story of the small-town mayor who cut a deal to serve as a witness against an organized sex crime ring based in New Orleans. Intel suggests he’s turned over everything he had on the brotherhood to the police—names, locations of the meeting grounds, and . . .” Beaux pauses. The gun dangles at his hip.

“The tapes,” I say. Beaux winces.

“Yes,” he whispers, stopping in his place.

I turn and look behind me. Even with his brief moment of distraction, he’s got me trapped within the confines of the hallway. There’s no way out except through the speakeasy and I’ll never be able to get the door open before he . . . before he pulls the trigger. Not to mention Julian and Mason. One gunshot amongst all that gasoline and this whole place will go up in flames.

This is my problem, my fight. I must face him alone.

“And now the whole world will know what happened to me,” he says, moving his eyes to me. They shine brighter than normal as tears fill them. If I weren’t so afraid of him, I would cry for him. No child should suffer the abuse inflicted upon Beaux. It hurts me to have sympathy for him, to care for him in any way. But . . . I’d be lying if I said I don’t.

“But . . . maybe it’s a good thing,” I tell him. “Maybe, now, you can stop hiding. You can stop pretending to be perfect to conceal how truly imperfect you are.”

I gasp as I reach the end of the hallway. The cool cinderblock is hard against my back. I imagine bright red chunks covering its pale paint. If I can’t reason with Beaux, I won’t make it out of here alive.

“But don’t you get it?” Beaux asks me. “Beaux Thomas, this facade, it’s been the only thing keeping the real me at bay. It’s the only thing keeping the monster in his cage, away from the public eye. It’s the only thing allowing me to pretend to be normal.” Tears fall from his eyes as he speaks. “Now, the curtain has been pulled. Everyone knows the truth, the unspeakable truth. And now, I can never be normal again,” he whispers.

My lips quiver. My vision blurs with tears. I know all too well the need to be normal, the fear associated with telling the unspeakable truth. It’s why I struggled to tell Julian the truth, why I didn’t press charges, why I kept my family in the dark. You can never be normal once you’ve been exposed. At least, that’s what I told myself.

“Now,” Beaux says. “I can only ever be the monster,” he whispers.

My chest rises and falls as I watch him. As if embracing his true identity, he stands tall. The veins in his neck throb and his face turns bright red.

My body shakes in response and emotion swells inside of me. I’ve run out of time, out of words. He’s going to kill me. And I’ll never see Julian again. We’ll never live a life together. We’ll never have another conversation. We’ll never share another kiss. And Kat? She’s been my best friend, my family for years, and I’ll never see her again. She’ll never help me get dressed in something way too slutty and uncomfortable. She’ll never annoy the hell out of me with her and Demetri’s lovemaking. We’ll never spend another Sunday afternoon watching Gilmore Girls reruns. And my mom? We’ll never find out what our relationship could have been without my father’s influence.

“It’s over, Emma,” Beaux says then. His eyes are cold as he speaks.

Beaux points the gun at me. I say a silent prayer for my soul and close my eyes. As the gun fires, I scream, dropping to the floor. I cover my ringing ears with my hands. I hold my breath, waiting to feel the pain of the entry point. It never comes.

I open my eyes and find a bullet hole in the ceiling above me and Julian and Beaux wrestling on the floor amongst hundreds of broken records. The gun is loose.

I

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