The Last Letter

by Rebecca Yarros

“Beckett!” I called after him.

  “Don’t worry, Ella,” he called back. “I know my role. I’ve got it. And I’ll still show up. That’s how badly I want…”

  He didn’t finish, just threw up his hands and kept walking.

  But I finished that sentence for him in my head about a dozen different ways.

  How badly I want you.

  How badly I want your kids.

  How badly I want to be in your life.

  How badly I want to show up for you.

  How badly I want Maisie to live.

  Every single one I came up with made me feel worse for not trusting him. But the guy was up against a lifetime of people making promises and leaving me.

  And I was up against a lifetime of no one trusting him.

  Weren’t we just a pair?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Beckett

  Letter #15

  Chaos,

  I’m so sorry you lost someone. I can’t imagine how hard that must be, to grieve and still carry on with what you’re doing. Every time I lost someone, my parents or my grandmother, it always shut me down, like my body couldn’t process the enormity of my feelings. It says a lot about the kind of man you are that you can continue to show up, and I mean that in the best of ways.

  You say you’re bad with people, that you don’t connect, but that’s not who I see when I open these letters. Or rather, who I hear. Someone who can’t connect wouldn’t be so open. Heck, they wouldn’t have written back in the first place. But you did, and I’m grateful.

  Maybe you simply choose who you connect with, and that’s okay. I don’t think anyone wakes up and decides to be the social butterfly like my brother. That’s probably why you two are good friends. You balance each other out.

  You know who else I bet you’d connect with? Kids. Maybe not everyone’s kids, but definitely your own. Have you ever thought about kids? It’s a random question, but I’m curious. Probably because I had mine so young, and I can’t imagine not having them, I kind of picture everyone I meet with kids.

  Except Hailey. She’s one of my closest friends, and I’m sure one day she’ll make a great mom…after she successfully adults on her own for a while. Successful being the key word there. I bet you’ll love her when you get here. She’s gorgeous, and fun, and doesn’t picture everyone she meets with kids.

  Anyway, I bet you’d be a great dad. Brooding and tough, but also sneaking in Star Wars marathons on lazy weekends. I could absolutely picture it…if I could picture you. Yep, I’m still hankering for a picture.

  I hope I managed to distract you for a few minutes. I hope you know how very sorry I am for your loss.

  ~ Ella

  …

  I stood at the window of the downtown Denver high-rise, looking out over the city. This definitely wasn’t a place I could set down roots. Two months in Telluride had taught me that concrete and I weren’t compatible in the long-term sense.

  Plus, Denver didn’t have Ella.

  It had been a week since our fight in the truck, and we’d been polite…even friendly. But that easygoing rhythm we’d always had was nowhere to be found. Not with everything hanging between us.

  If I wasn’t careful, she’d realize I was in love with her, and then we’d be in even deeper shit.

  I’d never had a woman prick my temper the way Ella did. Hell, I’d sworn at her. I’d also never had a woman I cared to see more than once or twice, or one who owned my soul the way she did. Of course I’d agree to whatever terms she had when it came to the adoption. Not just because I was desperate to save Maisie and protect Colt, but because I’d give Ella whatever she wanted if it simply made her smile.

  And in return, she was giving me a family, as screwed up as the justification was. The kids would be mine, in every way that mattered to me. I could love them, protect them, make sure they had everything they needed. I’d get Maisie approved for every treatment and make sure Colt knew I had his back every day of his life. I’d prove myself to Ella, show up until she couldn’t doubt me ever again, and then I’d win her heart.

  Until she finds out what you did.

  Yeah. That. It didn’t matter how hard I tried to ignore it, my secret hung over my head like a guillotine.

  At least the kids would be protected when Ella kicked me out. It wasn’t like she’d unadopt the kids or risk Maisie. This was the one way I could fulfill my promise to Ryan and placate my aching heart, knowing one day the past was going to catch up to me.

  My cell phone dinged, and I swiped to open the message app.

  DONAHUE: Updated papers are ready with new dates. You sure about this?

  My fingers paused over the keys. I was sure that I wanted Maisie to live, and this was the only means to that end.

  GENTRY: Yep. But it doesn’t mean I’m coming back.

  DONAHUE: You keep telling yourself that.

  I slid my phone into my pocket, not bothering to reply.

  “Mr. Gentry,” a voice called out from behind me, and I turned around.

  “Mr. Danbury,” I answered. So this was Jeff. He basically looked like an overgrown frat boy who’d been poured into his father’s suit. His hair was blond and slicked back, his eyes gray and calculating.

  We shook hands, and I quickly took my seat across from him at the conference table, scared that I’d lose it and crush him for having touched Ella, let alone abandoning her and the kids.

  The hell with him. He didn’t deserve her, and he sure as hell didn’t deserve them.

  He adjusted his suit coat, and I did the same, unbuttoning the bottom button. At least Denver had good, fast tailors.

  “So what can I do for you, Mr. Gentry?” he asked.

  “I understand you’re the youngest junior partner at your firm.”

  “I am. Just graduated law school as a matter of fact.”

  “Perks of having a dad with his name on the wall?” I asked, motioning to the firm’s name.

  His smile fell. Jeffy-boy didn’t like having his silver spoon brought up. Guys like him were all the same—they’d had their cushy lives handed to them, and they despised any speed bump that kept them from the prize. God knew he’d run right over Ella.

  “I consider it part-ownership in the family business,” he said with a shrug.

  “Ah, family. I’m so glad you brought that up.” I pushed the manila envelope across the table, and he caught it.

  “What the hell is this?” he asked, scanning the paper.

  “You know what it is, unless that fancy law degree didn’t teach you how to read. Sign it.”

  He read it again and then put it down slowly. Then I saw it, the look that said he thought he had one up on me now that he knew what I wanted.

  “What did Ella pay you to do this?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “There has to be a reason. It’s been years.”

  “There is. I’m adopting the twins.”

  His smirk fell off his preppy face, and his gaze dropped to my hand, looking for a ring. “You marrying her?”

  “I can’t see how that’s any of your business.”

  “Well, seeing as you’d like to adopt my kids—”

  All emotion drained from my body in a familiar retreat. The sensation the same as every time I stepped into combat, preparing me to commit unforgivable atrocities.

  “They’re not your kids,” I said.

  “Yeah, I’d beg to differ on that, considering how many times I screwed her in the two months we were married. Small-town girl with a small-town mind just wanted a ring first.”

  If Havoc had been here, she would have gone for his throat based on my tension level alone.

  “You might be their biological father, but you’re sure as hell not their dad. You’ve never so much as seen them, spoken to them, or had any interaction. They
. Are. Not. Your. Kids. They’re mine.”

  As soon as the words left my mouth, that sweet pressure was back in my chest, the love I had for them overpowering my instinct to void my emotions.

  “So what exactly is in this for me?”

  “Are you serious?”

  He shrugged. “Consider it a business transaction. You want something I have. What are you going to give me for it?”

  “How about I tell you what I’m not going to give you?”

  He sat there expectantly while I did my best to keep a level head.

  Three things: Maisie. Colt. Ella. They were the reason and the only things that mattered.

  “I’m not going to give you the over-two-million-dollar bill for Maisie’s cancer treatments that’s going to come due in the next year.”

  He swallowed but showed no other outward sign of hearing me.

  “Reason enough? Or we can just add her to your insurance, since you’re so keen on calling them yours. I’m sure that would go over really well with your dad, considering he told Ella about six months ago that he really didn’t care if Maisie lived or died as long as she left him and you the hell alone. I’m sure that would be great for business if it got out.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “Not in the least. Why would I do that when you’re going to sign that release, and your little secretary outside is going to notarize it all nice and pretty?” I leaned back in the chair.

  “Fine. I’ll sign it.” He ripped a pen out of the cup in the center of the table and scrawled his name across the paper. I didn’t relax. Not yet.

  “Have it notarized.”

  He cursed under his breath but pushed back from the table and barked for his secretary from the doorway. A twentysomething woman in a tight pencil skirt hustled over, signing the bottom of the document and stamping it before running back to her desk.

  Jeff shoved the folder at me, and I looked over the document, making sure it had been signed and notarized correctly. I wasn’t doing this a second time.

  “Now if there’s anything else?”

  I let my smile loose. “Yeah. Get your checkbook.”

  “Excuse me?” His eyes popped wide in indignation.

  “Get. Your. Checkbook. You’re going to write Ella a check for six years of back support on the kids. Now.”

  “The hell I am. Besides, I just started working last month. What do you want? Thirty percent of nothing?”

  “Yeah, but your million-dollar trust fund kicked in the minute you attended your first class freshman year of college. So you’re going to write a lovely, fat check to Ella.”

  “How did you know that?”

  “Not important. You’re going to write what you owe her, or I’m going to take this document to your fiancée’s dad. What is he? A senator? And then I’m going to leak it to the press that you not only abandoned those kids, but you left their mother destitute while she struggled to afford the cancer treatments Maisie needs. How do you think that’s going to play out in the press?”

  “You’d ruin me.”

  I took a deep, steadying breath. Even knowing that Maisie had cancer didn’t affect this selfish prick. “Yeah, that’s the idea.”

  “Why? Because I ruined Ella? Like she had a future anyway.”

  “You think you ruined Ella? There’s no man on the planet who could do that. Don’t flatter yourself. The only reason she’s not here is because you’re not worth her time. Now get your checkbook.”

  He left the conference room, returning quickly with his pen poised over an open checkbook. “How much?”

  “Whatever you think it’s worth to keep your future father-in-law happy and your father’s name on the wall.”

  He scrawled his pen across the check and then flung the paper at me.

  The check rustled to a gentle stop right in front of me, and I took it, folding it in half and slipping it into my breast pocket.

  “You’re not even going to look at it?” he squawked.

  “Nope. It’s either enough, or it’s not.” I stood, buttoning my suit coat, and headed for the door, file in hand.

  “How did you know about the trust fund?” he asked again, still seated.

  I paused, my hand on the door, debating.

  What the hell. Why not?

  “Oh, you know. Small-town people with small-town minds, they have big hearts and bigger mouths. And just for the record, the best thing you’ve ever done in your life is walk away from Ella. You never came back to mess with the kids. I’d keep to that tradition if I were you. I protect what’s mine.”

  I walked away without a second thought, heading for a little army base just outside of Denver. There was another set of papers that needed signing today.

  …

  “Beckett!” Colt flew through the door and launched himself into my arms, like I’d been gone two weeks instead of two days.

  “What’s up, little man?” I lifted him into the air, savoring the smell of cinnamon and sunshine as I shuffled the folder in my hands.

  “We’re baking!”

  I carried him into the house and was greeted by the same scent. “Apple pie?” I asked.

  “How did you know?”

  “Well, the only thing that smells that good while it’s baking is apple pie or Little Boy Pie and, since you’re still here, I went with the apples.”

  Havoc swirled around my legs in greeting, and I set Colt down to give my girl a little behind-the-ear rub. “Good job,” I told her, knowing she’d stuck by Colt’s side.

  “Beckett!” Maisie called out from the couch.

  “How’s my best girl?” I asked, coming around to crouch next to where she lay. She was pale, her skin nearly translucent. “Feeling okay?”

  She shook her head.

  “If you could get her to drink something, I’d pretty much fork over my soul,” Ella said, coming from the kitchen, a smattering of flour on her forehead.

  A pang of yearning blended with pure lust. I wanted this life and this woman. Wanted the freedom to steal her away from the kids for a second and get my hands on her. Kiss her. Touch her. Watch her eyes flutter shut in pleasure. Watch the worry lines fade from her brow.

  “Apple pie, huh?”

  “It’s her favorite, so I thought maybe…” She shrugged.

  “What do I have to bribe you with to get a few capfuls of Gatorade down you?” I asked Maisie.

  She looked up at me, those blue eyes turning deadly serious. “No more Moana. Get me Star Wars. It’s not scary.” She shot a little glare in Ella’s direction.

  Ella scoffed, but nodded to okay the transaction.

  “Deal. I have the green apple flavor you like at my house. Give me a couple minutes with your mom and I’ll get it, okay?”

  “Deal.”

  I pulled her blanket up a little farther and followed Ella into her office.

  YOU ARE ENOUGH.

  The handwritten sign I’d sent her hung on the bulletin board. Hell yes, she was enough. I was the one who lacked in just about every department. Including the honesty one.

  How weird was it to be jealous of yourself? To know another version of you had a piece of the woman you loved?

  “How are her platelet levels?”

  “We’re going into the medical center tomorrow morning for another transfusion. They can do it in Telluride, so at least it’s close.”

  I nodded and handed Ella the folder.

  Her fingers trembled a little, but she opened it. Then her mouth dropped open. “You did it.”

  “I did. You’re free. The kids are free.”

  “How?” She read it again.

  “I’m very convincing.”

  She grinned up at me. “That, I believe.”

  I slipped the check into the folder, letting it fall on top of the document.
Her mouth fell open.

  “What is this?”

  “What you’re owed.”

  She sat back, her butt perched on the edge of her desk. “It’s half a million dollars. Why would he… What did you do?”

  “Got you a little of the money he should have given you all along.”

  She looked up at me, her face a myriad of expressions I couldn’t keep up with. “I don’t want it.”

  “I figured.”

  “You did?”

  I nodded. “You raised them on your own. I figured the last thing you’d do is take the money now. That would give him a feeling of ownership you’d never allow.”

  “Then why did you bring it?”

  “You said once that to hurt him I had to hit the money. So I hurt him. I brought you the check because I won’t ever take a choice like that from you. That money could pay off all the debt on Solitude, or pay for treatments for Maisie. Or for their college in the future. I wasn’t taking that choice.”

  “I don’t need it for Maisie, now.”

  “Not if you want me to adopt her, you don’t. That’s another choice I won’t force on you. I’m not Jeff. And this gives you options. That check means you’re not cornered. You don’t have to choose me.”

  We stood there, our eyes locked in a silent conversation as she considered. Mine begged her to trust me. To lean on me. To need me even a small percentage of the way I needed her. Hers pondered, weighed, and decided, staying locked with mine as she ripped the check to shreds.

  “I choose you. And now I’m free. We’re free.”

  I grinned because I knew I wasn’t free anymore—I was hers…theirs.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Beckett

  Letter #3

  Chaos,

  Parenthood sucks. Sorry, I know we don’t know each other well enough for me to say something like that, but it does. At least today it does.

  I just spent the better part of my afternoon in the principal’s office. Not only that, but it was the same principal from when I was a kid. I swear, I sat down in that squeaky pleather chair across from his desk and I was seven all over again.

  Except now I’m the adult, and my kids are the ones putting me in the hot seat.