Some people wanted me to do a bad thing. They told me if I didn’t . . . they would tell you I used to be a bad man.
Dash shook his head again. What bad thing?
They wanted me to kill someone.
Dash’s eyes widened. Did you?
Manus shook his head. No.
Then you’re not a bad man.
But I was. I . . .
He stopped, his fingers frozen in a kind of purgatory. Then he forced himself to go on. I did kill people before. For the government.
I don’t care about before.
You should.
Why?
For a moment, Manus was stuck for an answer. I just . . . I thought you would.
Not if you’re good now. You are, aren’t you?
Manus didn’t want to lie to him. But he didn’t know what was true, either.
I don’t know.
But you won’t kill anyone anymore, will you?
I will if they try to hurt you or your mom.
That’s different. Anyway, don’t you want to be good?
Manus thought for a moment. And then remembered what he had been thinking about in the park, just yesterday morning but seeming much longer ago.
I want to be . . . who you see when you look at me the way you are now.
Dash gave him a beautiful, unself-conscious smile. That’s easy. You already are.
Manus wiped his face and tousled Dash’s hair. Dash hugged him.
Manus looked at Evie and signed, I’m sorry. I was so afraid . . . they would tell him. All of it. All the things I told you.
She glanced at Dash, then back to Manus. She smiled. You didn’t have to worry. He loves you.
Manus nodded and started crying again. He would have signed I love him, too, but he was holding Dash too tightly.
chapter
fifty-three
DOX
Dox was lying on the bed next to Labee, watching her face in the dim glow from the bathroom light. He wondered when he’d see her again after this thing was over. Maybe months. Maybe never. He’d put on a brave face when she’d been asking him all those questions, partly because he didn’t want her to feel pressured, partly to protect his own dignity. But the truth was, it wasn’t easy for him. He wanted to be with her. All the time. He’d never thought he’d reach a point where he wasn’t interested in other women. But here he was. All that nonsense in the poems and songs and movies . . . It had happened to him.
And my God, it had been good just now, too. He’d been thinking about it for a while, how maybe his natural protectiveness for her was blinding him to her needs. Not that she required protecting, by him or anyone else. It was just that knowing her history, and the way she had entrusted it to him . . . It made him look at her a certain way. But he was glad he’d gotten past that.
Maybe it was foolish to worry about what would happen next. Life was short, and he was with her now. And if he ever had a chance at the end of his life to think back to the most magical times, he knew this would be one of them. Lying in this bed, watching her beautiful, sleeping face, and wondering at the strangeness of it all. He was glad he understood how special the moment was now, that it wouldn’t be only in retrospect.
She opened her eyes and looked at him. “Hey.”
He reached out and touched her cheek. “Hey there. I thought you were sleeping.”
She sighed. “On and off. You’re not?”
“Almost. It was an eventful day.”