Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 135958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
I started forward, ready to slap her. But I caught myself.
No one said a word. Brooke gasped and jumped in reflex, but even she didn’t speak.
They all would’ve let me hit her.
I stopped myself. I did. Not them. That clicked with me.
There was no moral compass here. They were mafia. They worked for the mafia. A slap was nothing to them, but that wasn’t true for me. Not for the little girl who cowered before her father, or the teenager who ran from him, or the adult who was defying him.
I’d been waiting, hoping to lean on others for cues about what to do or where to go. Blade had helped with that before. Carol too. My job. Even the people we hid. But it wasn’t the same here.
I was alone.
Breathing hard, my ribs feeling stretched, I lowered my hand.
But I did not apologize. I would not. It was wrong to use violence, but I wasn’t wrong to have the emotion behind it. Just like it was wrong to act on jealousy. It was an emotion just like all others. You couldn’t deny an emotion. If you did, that sucker burrowed down inside you and would work its way out whether you wanted it or not.
Am I jealous of Brooke? I asked myself.
I was.
I was jealous she had a family who loved her. I was jealous she had a family of brothers, because even though Kai was furious with her, he loved her. So did Tanner and Jonah.
My throat stung. “Words matter.” My voice was hollow, but I had to still say it. “Actions matter. To be reckless with words is to be selfish, and combine that with power, and it is dangerous. Be better.”
I walked past her. I walked past the guards around her, and I moved past the house.
There was a trail leading around the side, going into the woods.
I started down to it.
“He—”
“Leave her,” Kai spoke over the guard.
I didn’t hear whatever else he said. I had already slipped away into the trees.
• • •
A twig snapped, and I looked up.
I had walked for a mile until I came upon a large boulder. It was on the side of the trail, stuck firmly into the ground overlooking a small clearing in the trees. The lake glistened before me.
I didn’t move as Kai came to sit next to me. There was just enough room for two of us. Perhaps a third could’ve climbed on behind, but for now, two was perfect.
“I’ll never be a Hider again.”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I wondered what that was about.”
“You are a murderer. You hurt people. You traffic women across the nation.” I caught his look and amended, “If you don’t, you allow it. Drugs. Guns. There are so many horrible things you do.”
He kept quiet, letting me talk.
“I loathed you.” My gut rolled over. “I loathe what you do. I don’t think that’ll ever change.”
He nodded, looking at the lake again.
I watched his profile, adding softly, “But I’m beginning to hate myself instead.”
He tensed, his eyes closing.
“You are a big part of the ‘bad’ in life, and I was part of the ‘good.’ I was doing my part. That’s what I told myself. I liked that feeling. In some small way, I was giving my father a middle finger because while he was in Milwaukee hurting someone, I was helping someone twenty hours from him. It meant something to me.”
My chest hurt. I took a deep breath.
“Then your sister showed up, and everything was destroyed. It seemed like it took days, weeks, the last month, but in reality, it took only the moment when she decided to come find me. I helped her. I told her how to hide from security cameras. I told her to use a disguise, walk with someone else, literally be someone else. I didn’t tell her to pretend to be an elderly woman, but she took my advice. She evaded you because of me. I thought I was doing the right thing.”
It was a weird emotion, feeling at the precipice of two worlds. I’d been fighting against admitting this, but I couldn’t any longer.
“I’m going back to my father,” I said.
Kai turned to look at me, a strong emotion shining in his eyes.
I didn’t name it. I looked away. I didn’t care.
“He can’t hurt my cousin. He can’t hurt anyone else. He has to pay for what he did to my mother, what he wanted to do to my mother.”
“I’ll help you—”
“No.” I was firm. “I want to do this myself. I have to.”
He was quiet before nodding. “Okay. When?”
It was getting dark now. “In the morning I’ll go.”
He shifted to face me on the boulder.
I stared back.
One night. I’d give him one more night.
As if reading my mind, he nodded again. “Okay.”