The Angel and The Billionaire

Eight

Grace

- No! Fuck that. You're cheating. You've watched this before. - I cross my arms. - How could you possibly know? There was no evidence pointing to Tom.

- Well, angel, let me teach you something: sometimes lack of evidence is evidence. - Tony smirks. Our little banters always amuse him - The husband was too obvious and the psychiatrist was the first suspect. It's never the first suspect. Megan was pregnant with someone else's baby, so it had to be Tom.

- Unbelievable. - I shake my head. - I honestly thought that we would find out Rachel killed her. Or Anna.

He chuckles, the credits for The Girl on the Train passing on the television. This is common for us, we watch something together almost every night when he's done with work.

- Hey, can I ask you something? - Tony asks, looking right at me.

- Sure.

- Do you like your life here? - He pauses. - I mean, I get you're probably missing out on important parts but ... we have a good time, right?

- I was talking to Thomas about that the other day.

- How so?

- Well, obviously I wanna remember my life, who I am, and all that. - I take a deep breath, trying to find the right words to explain this. - But I'd like to keep you in my life, I ... I like having you around, Tony.

- Really? - He raises both eyebrows, smiling.

- Yeah, you're great company.

- Thanks. - For a second it looks like he's blushing, but it's probably just an impression. - You're great company too, angel. Probably the best there is.

Heat spreads on my cheeks and I become suddenly aware of how close we are. My legs are thrown on top of his to make it easier to access the now empty bowl of popcorn. His arms are resting on his lap, meaning his elbows are on my thighs.

- Can I ask you something? - I turn the question to him. I'm not sure if he'll like talking about this, but it doesn't hurt to ask. - You don't have to answer, but I kind of wanna ask anyway.

- Shoot.

- The day you told me about Ultron... - I hesitate, but he nods for me to continue. - You said a guy killed your parents, but not by choice, and that your friend covered for him. What happened?

Tony looks away with rage on his expression. I follow his gaze to a picture of him and his mother on top of the fireplace. He couldn't be older than 10 when it was taken, a joyful expression on their faces.

Very different from the haunted man sitting next to me.

- I'm not sure why, we're investigating, but the people who froze you sent him to murder my parents. - Tony shakes his head. - Now I know it wasn't his fault. He was being controlled and didn't have a choice. But when I found out what happened, and that my friend knew about it ... I lost it.

- You attacked them. - I remember the bruises on his face when we first met. He looked like he had been in a fight, but I always assumed it was against HYDRA.

- I'm not proud of it. - He lowers his head. - But Steve knew that it wasn't an accident. I think he knew for years and never said a word. My mom... He killed my mom.

He pauses. His eyes are pricking with tears. Tony never talks about his mother, just about his dad and only in smart-ass remarks. I picture him at 21 years of age, discovering his parents died in a tragic accident and being forced to live with it, only to find out years later that they were murdered and his close friend kept that from him.

- What pisses me off the most is that HYDRA got away with it. - Tony sighs and wipes his face with the back of his hand. - I didn't get a chance to find the real culprits. And now it may be too late.

- I'm gonna say something kind of indelicate now, alright?

He frowns but nods, so I scoot closer and hold one of his hands.

- It wouldn't change anything. If you find whoever sent him, she won't come back. - I try to be gentle but Tony still looks at me like I've punched him. - The guy who shot me, remember? He sought revenge, now he's in prison for life. His wife is still dead. His son is still dead.

- So I should just give up? Let the killers get away with it? - His voice might be low but there's anger in it.

- That's not what I said. - I shake my head, trying to express my thoughts coherently. - Just don't lose yourself in what ifs. If he told you sooner ... Well, he didn't. And if you had the person who ordered the hit right here, right now, dead at your feet, it would still hurt that your mother is dead.

Tony sits with my words for a few seconds. For a moment I wonder if I didn't overstep, but then he speaks.

- You're right. - Barely a whisper. So much pain in such a small amount of words. A thought crosses my mind, and the question comes out before I have a chance to think properly.

- Tony, you know this isn't your fault, right?

He raises his head slowly, the look in his eyes answering the question. He blamed himself for the accident and found a way to take the blame for the murder, or for not being able to find the killer. How is it possible that a person with so much confidence can be buried so deep in self-loathing? It's a contradiction. Tony is a paradox.

- I should've known it wasn't an accident. I never even looked into it. - A tear slides down his face. - We argued, me and my father, before they left. I thought ... I thought that was why he crashed the car.

- It wasn't your fault.

- And then I was told it was an accident and I never questioned it. - He trails off, stuttering. - They were the fucking Starks and I accepted it. Just a car accident. I should've known.

- Tony! - I grab his face, forcing him to look at me. - It wasn't your fault.

A tear drops from his eye and I pull him close, hugging his shoulders as he sobs. It might be the most heartbreaking thing I've ever witnessed, he keeps saying 'I'm sorry' and I have no idea what to do.

- I'm here. It's okay, you're not alone.

I give him time to let it all out. Who knows how long he has been holding all of this inside. Of course, he's the type to bottle it all up until it explodes. God forbid men learn healthy coping mechanisms.

- I'm right here.