Текст книги "Vendetta"

Автор книги: Sienna Lane

Соавторы: Autumn Karr
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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 13 страниц)

fourteen

DEVON

If I could pick one day to last twenty-five hours, this would be it. I'm in the car, driving aimlessly, trying to figure out what to do. I have some money stashed in Baroque, mostly racket—which is shit these days. Still, it should be enough for what I need.

Parking in front of the club, I pull out my cell phone. Shit, I'll probably need a new one. First I check in with Hayley, letting her know she doesn’t have to come in today. She doesn’t like it and starts giving me a lecture, but I finish the conversation fast and hang up, realizing that might have been the last time I talk to her. I dial Colin's number next and set up a meeting in an hour, telling him I have a job for him. Satisfied when he agrees to meet me, I hang up and get inside Baroque.

They don't expect me, of course, since I'm never here during the day, and I get curious looks all around as I walk the long distance from the entrance door to the dark hallway leading to the back office. I have to cross the saloon and then another room—the girls' room—and then, at the very back, is the main office.

Just act normal. I repeat this mantra in my head. How do I act when I'm normal? Without a word, or a nod of a head, I walk past everyone. A flash of dark curls catches my eye. Soraya. She sees me and gives me a shiny smile, heading toward me. I'd rather have avoided her, but I can't just run now.

“Devon Andre,” she says, reaching me. She's wearing a red dress, elegant, but revealing, with just a little cleavage, to get you to ask yourself what's underneath—the way we require them to dress for this place, day or night. She puts her small hand on my forearm, squeezing it lightly and giving me a flirty smile. It’s barely noon, so there aren’t many people in here, but all eyes are on us, taking this exchange in curiously. I smile back at Soraya, deciding to play this in my favor.

Placing my hand at the small of her back, I lead her toward the office, then let it slide down, cupping her ass. She gives me a questioning look, and starts to pull away. I lean in, pushing her further toward the office door, and whisper in her ear, “Follow my lead and you'll never have to sleep with old men for money again.”

We make eye contact, and she gives me an imperceptible nod. Her demeanor completely changes, and she laughs timidly, but loud enough for at least those nearby to hear, leaning back into my hand and letting me grab her ass.

I don't think there's any doubt as to what we'll be doing in my office at this point, especially after I lock the door after entering.

“What's—”

I put my hand over her mouth to shut her up. The whole place is wired, even this office where our business associates sometimes have meetings between themselves. The material we collect we use for extortion and blackmail. Stevie's idea.

I shush her with my finger, then wait for her to nod so I know she understands, and let her go.

“Do you want something to drink?” I ask her, pointing with my finger at the whiskey bottle on the table.

She nods. I shake my head at her, motioning with my hand for her to speak instead.

“That whiskey looks good. We need to loosen you up a bit,” she says, her voice turning flirtatious.

I pour a full glass of whiskey.

“Off with the clothes, I just have to do something,” I say, shaking my head to let her know she doesn't have to do it.

She follows me around the office, while I locate all three microphones and submerge them in the amber liquid. They're waterproof and I've done this before, so when I take them out and let them dry they’ll be as good as new. Everyone, my uncle included, knows why I do it, so it won't seem suspicious.

It's one thing recording other people talking business or having sex in this place, but it’s different to do it to yourself.

“We can talk now,” I say, pouring another glass of whiskey and shoving it at her. When she doesn't take it, I wrap her fingers around it and let it go.

“What's going on?” she asks, bringing it to her lips with a trembling hand and taking a small sip. She makes a face of disgust but bravely brings it to her lips again.

“I have a friend coming over,” I tell her.

The glass stops midway to her mouth, her face taking on a comical expression of pure horror. “That's not in my contract,” she squeaks.

“What? No, it's not like that! I didn't mean that,” I tell her pointedly.

She visibly relaxes and leans on the desk, placing the glass down next to her and crossing her legs. She looks at me expectantly. “Okay, go on,” she prompts with her hand.

I hold up a finger. “Give me a second,” I say, walking to the huge painting on the back wall. I take it off, revealing a safe. After I input the right combination, it clicks and opens slowly to reveal several stacks of hundred dollar bills. I take a few, probably fifty grand, then walk to her and place them on the table next to the glass.

She eyes them hungrily. I feel like crap for using her own self against her, but it's all I've got.

“I can wire you more. All you have to do is say you were with me all day.” I have an off-shore account nobody knows about. It's in Joey Andre's name.

She looks at me warily, probably realizing whatever is going on isn’t flower picking. Sure enough, she asks, “What exactly is going on here?”

I open my mouth to answer, but my phone rings, interrupting me. Colin's number flashes on the screen.

“Yeah,” I say when I answer.

“Hey man, I'm outside.”

“Back office,” I inform him shortly, and hang up.

A few minutes later, there's a knock on the door and I open it for him, and then lock again.

He looks around the office, his gaze landing on Soraya, and then he frowns at the glass in her hand. “Hey, what's up?” he says softly. To her.

She groans and takes the remaining whiskey and downs it, his eyes following the movement. “This is your friend?” she asks, pointing at him with the empty glass.

“Is there a problem?” I ask, really confused.

She sighs a heavy sigh. “He's a client.”

“Yeah, a client,” Colin mimics her words in this high-pitched voice.

I palm my face. Just what I needed. “For fuck's sake, can we not do the whole secret lovers thing? Lives are at stake here,” I say, slamming my fist on the table.

They break off their angry stare down contest to look at me.

“Sorry, man,” Colin says, glancing at Soraya again. “Sorry, Amber.”

“Thank you,” I say, exasperated. Soraya just nods sadly.

“So, what's this all about?” Colin asks me, leaning on the desk next to her. She moves away slightly, but doesn't say anything.

I'm wondering why I'm about to trust the biggest gossip I know with this sensitive information. Probably because Colin, he has that something other people in our circles don't. He still has a sense of justice, of fairness. He has a heart.

“Colin, what I'm about to tell you, it can't leave this room.” My gaze strays toward Amber, making a subtle threat. Yes, he has a heart, and that's exactly what I'm counting on. I watch his Adam's apple bob, and then he nods with determination. “It's about Leighton Moore,” I say after a beat, easing them into the story. If I want their cooperation, I'll need to tell them everything. “I know where she is.”

* * *

Colin sits on the floor, stunned speechless.

“Wow,” Amber says, although I'm sure the story means nothing to her.

“Holy shit,” Colin finally manages. “And all this time . . . you and the Moore girl? Holy shit.”

“Leighton,” I correct him, the sound of her last name making me feel sick. I can't believe I'm fucking doing this.

For so long I've held onto this one tiny shred, the justice I'll get for my parents and brother one day when I see them all on their knees. Instead, I'm failing them by saving the daughter of the man who killed them and running away with her. Betraying my own name for the sake of love.

What kind of person does that make me?

“A person in love,” Amber says, her face taking on a dreamy look. I must have said that out loud, and for fuck's sake, I am so not in the mood for girly dreamy sighs.

“Are you in or not?” I ask Colin.

He nods without giving it a thought and Amber looks at him, frowning. It's clear she cares about him and he's not just a client. What is she doing here if he loves her? Why doesn't he take her away from this godforsaken life when they can freely choose where to be and what to do?

“You don't even know what the plan is,” she tells him, her voice more authoritative than worried. He shrugs, and she shakes her head at him, clearly annoyed. “Will he be safe?” she asks me, still looking at him.

“All he has to do is take my car,” I tell her honestly. “Just drop it off at a certain location and leave it there. When he does, he needs to call me and let me know. And that's all.”

“And why?” she asks.

“Because tonight, Leighton Moore and Devon Andre are going to die.”

The look she gives Colin is doubtful. “You think you can pull that off?” she asks me, still looking at him.

“I’ll have to.”

* * *

A black sedan pulls into the warehouse, grabbing my attention. I exit the office and approach the car as the door opens and a blond, broad-shouldered man steps out. He pulls off his shades, revealing his brown eyes, and puts them in his shirt pocket.

“Justin,” I say in greeting.

“Devon.”

“How's Martha and the babies?” I ask him. He shifts on his feet nervously, looking around to see if we're alone. After a few moments, he approaches, slapping me on the back and pulling me in for a manly hug. I went to the same school as Justin, who is now a detective, my police contact. He's a few years older than me, but we used to be good friends. Back in high school, he was one of the few real friends I had: normal kids stayed away from me because their parents know who I was.

No one in my family knows we still keep in contact, if you can even call it that. I would never call him in, if I had a choice. He has a wife and two kids on the way, and I would never jeopardize his job or their lives.

“Hormonal,” is his short answer, but he laughs. She’s due any day now. “It’s been a while, Andre. How’s the business?”

I laugh nervously, though I was never afraid of Justin busting my ass. It’s just my natural instinct; he’s still a cop and I’m a criminal. I motion for him to follow me to the back office. He sits in the chair while I open the safe and pull out the bag I filled earlier from it. I sit opposite him, emptying the contents of the bag on the large table in front of us and look at him expectantly.

It’s a hundred grand in Benjamins.

He gives me a dubious look. “So, we’re talking business?”

“Unfortunately," I say.

“What’s going on?”

I run my hand through my hair, wondering if I should just spill the whole story to him as well, but decide against it. “I need to disappear. There’s—”

“Yeah, I’ve heard,” he cuts me off.

I frown. “Heard what?” If anyone knew about Leighton being at our house, she’d be gone already, safe home. And I know they have police contacts as well, it’s a no-brainer. If Justin knows, their people know it as well.

“Gino Fermi?” he says, referring to one of the bosses. When I shake my head because I have no idea what he’s talking about, he continues, “Heard the kid—” he gestures with his hand, snapping his fingers, “What’s his name?”

“Angelo,” I help him.

“Yeah. Heard he took over. The old man’s nowhere to be found. That’s just the word on the street; no one is actually saying anything. Bet ya he’s at the bottom of Mystic.”

“Huh,” I say. I had no idea, but someone in my family must have. Frank and Stevie would have known for sure. Why didn’t they say anything to me? I mean, this is not a small thing. “Didn’t he just turn eighteen? That’s a big step for a kid.” It’s a huge step, actually. And Angelo Fermi isn’t that smart either, so he probably won’t last too long.

“You really didn’t know?” I shake my head, though I hate to admit I was being kept in the dark about it. “And that’s after someone car-bombed Anthony Potenza,” he says.

I nod, because this I do know. Only his driver died, so it wasn’t a big deal. Word was he dealt with it, but I know these things are said just to keep the pretenses of being in control. I didn’t think much of it then, but if two bosses have been targeted, something is going on.

“I think we have a mob war on our hands,” he continues, the implication in his voice obvious. Immediately I think of my uncle and Stevie and our conversation the other day.

I put up my palms in surrender. “It wasn’t me,” I say, laughing nervously, and hoping he doesn’t see right through me. I had nothing to do with it, but if my family is behind it I’m as good as guilty, despite not knowing anything.

“Okay.” He leans his elbows on the table between us, his eyes calculating. He points at the money in front of him. “I don’t want that.” I go over the list of other things I can offer him. I’m about to open my mouth to ask what’s it going to cost, when he says, “No, man. I don’t want it. We’re friends.”

“I know you could use it.”

“Frankly, I’m insulted,” he says, crossing his arms against his chest. “Okay? So just tell me what I have to do.”

I smile at my friend. “I need a John and a Jane Doe, and that's it.”

fifteen

LEIGHTON

I stiffen the moment he walks through the door, his eyes pinning me as soon as he locks it shut. He’s carrying a bag of food in his hands, and places it on the table along with his car keys as he makes his way over to where I’m sitting on the chair. He smells faintly of cigar, mixed with his spicy cologne. Even with all the mixed emotions I’m feeling right now, the anger and the pain, I still want him. I’ll always want him.

“I brought something you will definitely like this time,” he says in greeting, flashing me a grin. His mood seems lighter than before he left, which makes me even madder because there he is, grinning playfully while I'm hours away from being taken away.

He pulls out his phone, then quickly checks the screen and shuts it off, putting it back in his pocket. I've never seen him bring a phone in here before. A plan starts to form in my head. If only I could get my hands on that phone, everything would be so much easier. I could call someone to let them know where I am, to come and get me while I'm still here.

“I’ll eat later.” I stand up from the bed and take a step closer to him. I place both of my hands flat on his hard chest, and give him a sultry look. “I have something else I want right now,” I say, looking pointedly down his body.

His green eyes narrow to slits, turning heavy-lidded. “Is that right?” he asks, already pulling his shirt off with both hands, sliding it over his head and revealing his sculpted abs and toned chest. Fuck, one glance at his body is all it takes.

My eyes linger on the indentation of his hips, that sexy V I love to run my tongue across. I lick my bottom lip, anticipation and lust taking over my senses. He undoes the button on his jeans, but then stops there. I lift my head up, giving him a curious look.

“I want to see you,” is all he says, his eyes never leaving mine. Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I lift off my sweater, pulling it gently so it doesn’t tangle in my hair. I pull off my jeans slowly, sitting back on the bed to pull them off my ankles. I stand up before him in my bra and panties, letting him look his fill. I don’t feel an ounce of shyness—instead, his blatant perusal makes me feel powerful. His lustful gaze and the tightness of his jeans let me know he likes what he sees, and spurs me to reach back and undo my bra. I throw it onto the floor, and grin at Devon’s hungry gaze zooming in on my bare breasts.

“And the rest,” he says, his tone thick with desire. He looks down at my black lace panties, and makes a strained sound. Completely over this teasing game, and just desperately wanting his touch, I pull my panties down and close the space between us. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pull myself up onto his body, throwing my legs around his narrow hips. With a hand tangled in my hair, he pulls my face to his, his lips taking mine in a hard, almost punishing kiss. His tongue delves inside my mouth, tasting me. His other hand grips my ass, squeezing tightly, the slight sting of pain turning me on even more. I run my fingers through this thick dark hair, pulling on the ends. I nibble on his full bottom lip before I pull away to trail my mouth along his jaw. While I’m sucking on his neck, Devon moves both hands to my ass, holding me up. He walks to the bed and throws me down onto it, then hurriedly pulls off his jeans and boxers. My eyes devour the perfection that is Devon: his strong thighs and long, thick cock jutting out, hard as a rock, and ready to go.

“Open your legs,” he says, swallowing hard as I comply. Leaning down onto the bed he dips his head and licks my core, stopping to pay special attention to my clit.

“Devon,” I call out, wanting him inside me. Gripping my hips, he tastes me again, until he finally pulls away, pushes my thighs with his hands and slides into me with one long, quick thrust. I let out a strangled breath at the slight discomfort, but then pleasure takes over.

“Fuck, I'm sorry,” he grits out as he enters me, his eyes on where both of us are now joined. Slowly he pulls out, then just as slowly thrusts in again, driving me crazy. I sink my nails into his back, urging him to go faster, lifting my hips up to meet him thrust for thrust, until he leans over me, pulling my hands above my head and threading our fingers together. Pushing our joint hands into the mattress, he grinds his hips into mine over and over again. I close my eyes shut, getting lost in the feeling, the pleasure. I feel his hot, wet mouth on my nipple, teasing, biting, sucking, heightening my pleasure, making it almost unbearable to withstand.

“Leighton,” he rasps out, and I open my eyes, staring back into the ones of the man I love. The man I’m leaving. Knowing this is the last time I’ll ever be with Devon makes me want to break down, but I don’t. Instead, I hold his penetrating gaze, panting as he gives me what I want, makes love to me for the last time. I wrap my legs around his hips, a sound escaping my lips as I erupt with pleasure. I hear Devon curse as my thighs tremble, and he brings his lips to mine, kissing me hungrily as wave after wave of ecstasy has me moaning into his mouth and gripping onto him for dear life.

“You’re perfect for me, you know that?” he whispers as he pulls his mouth from mine. And in this moment, in this bed, we are perfect for each other. In our own little world, where no one else exists, where nothing else matters, we are perfect for each other in each and every way possible. He thrusts again deeply, pulling me from my thoughts. I gasp as he pulls me up into a sitting position, and lifts me so I’m sitting on his thighs while he is in a kneeling position. He lifts his hips, bouncing me on his cock. His eyes are glued to my breasts as they bounce with the motion each time he pushes into me. His fingers dig into my hips, trying to pull me closer, trying to get himself deeper, probably leaving bruises. He bites on my nipple as he comes inside of me, thrusting furiously. He calls out my name, saying it reverently, like a caress. He pulls away and lifts his head up, his eyes unguarded.

“I love you. Whatever happens, I just want you to remember that,” he says, lifting his hand to push away the damp hair from my face. It sounds like a promise—or maybe an apology.

“I love you, too,” I tell him, putting my hand over his chest, feeling his heart slow to a steady, sure beat. Mourning what we had, as sweet and short as it was. I've never loved anyone as much as I love him.

* * *

“It's snowing,” Devon says, looking out the window. He's only in his boxers, his every muscle sharper, harder under the moonlight filtering in. He checks his phone again, probably for the fifteenth time since he got out of bed. The screen illuminates his frown as he reads whatever is on it.

I lick the chocolate filling off my fingers, then take another donut and bite into it. I don’t really feel like eating, but I’ll need the energy tonight.

He looks up from the phone and looks at me. “Enjoying those?”

“My favorite,” I say, giving him a fake smile.

A slow grin pulls at his lips. “Yeah,” he says softly, still smiling. “If you want some fresh air, you're going to have to get out of that bed, you know,” Devon says with a satisfied smirk, turning his attention back to the window. I roll over onto my stomach and smile sadly. I wish I never had to get out of his bed.

When he sees my expression, he walks back to me, and leans down, kissing me on the nose, then on my lips. “Leighton—”

His phone beeps and he exhales deeply, pulling away from me and looking at the screen again. “Come on, get dressed,” he says suddenly. “Fresh air.”

My smile fades as I realize that my time has run out. This is it. I sit up and grab some fresh clothes out of the closet, a pair of jeans and a black V-neck sweater. Devon dresses, and I feel his eyes on me as I walk to the bathroom to get his jacket, but pretend I don’t notice.

“You ready?” he asks, putting his own jacket on.

“Yeah,” I say, but I'm not. I don't want to do this.

DEVON

I take her hand and descend the stairs, dragging her behind me. She walks slowly, hesitantly, as if she doesn't want to leave. As soon as we're out of here, I'm going to clue her in on what exactly is going on, but I don't want her to panic. If they catch us red-handed, we're both done for.

So I lead her downstairs as quietly as possible, going over my plan once again in my head. I left the car in the garage, where I’ll have to somehow sneak in Leighton. I have another car waiting at, ironically, the same parking lot where George and I caught Leighton sneaking up on us. It's abandoned, and there's not a lot of chance someone will see us switching cars there. I'll leave my car and take the other one, and let Colin deal with everything else.

We exit the house and I don't waste time, I lead her straight toward the garage with quick steps. I stop at the gate and turn around, looking at the house where I spent all my life, being, but not living. The only time I'm alive is when I'm with her.

“What are you doing?” she asks, confused, once we’re inside the garage.

I shush her with my hand and open the car door, motioning for her to get in. I didn’t lock it earlier or close it all the way for fear of alerting someone and having them check what’s going on. Wordlessly, she gets in the car. I round it and get in myself, starting the car and pulling out through the raised garage door.

I see two men by the gate. “Get down,” I tell her. She complies without a question. I turn on my headlights, hoping to blind them, and their heads snap in my direction, both of them squinting. One of them raises his hand when he sees it’s me. I pass by them without acknowledging them. It’s what I would usually do.

“Where are we going?” Her voice is taking on a panicky note and I decide to put her out of her misery.

“We're leaving, Leighton.” I glance down to the legroom space where she’s squished. “They were going to take you. I couldn't let that happen.”

“I know.” She touches my hand on the shift stick, her palm lingering on it. I glance at her, and then back to the road. “What about everything else? What about my family?”

“You can come up now,” I say once we’re safe, but really, I’m just buying some time. I hate that I have to tell her this. “It's out of my hands,” I tell her after a beat. “I don't think it ever was in my hands.”

I expect her to say more, but she just looks out the window.

Reaching the parking lot, I park the car and get out. I open the door for her and help her out as well. My old phone, my documents, everything, I’m leaving it all in the car. Earlier snowfall has turned into a blizzard, the cold snowflakes hitting my face sharply at all angles as I lead her to the other car. I get inside, taking the new prepaid phone I purchased earlier and checking to see if Colin or Justin have messaged me yet. There’s nothing.

After looking around the car to make sure we have everything we’ll need, I glance back at Leighton, her hair swirling in the wind, her cheeks slightly flushed. She makes eye contact, but something feels off in the way she looks at me.

Just a little longer and we'll both be free. I'll spend the rest of my life saying sorry for what I almost did, for what I can't stop.

In a moment of perfect clarity I realize there’s no point in all those deaths. It won't bring my family back. It was never really about my family, I realize bitterly. I was a pawn to my uncle, a way to get even more power. He used my loss to manipulate me. I'm probably saving my own life by leaving.

I squeeze her hand tighter, pulling her to me. I kiss her. I kiss her guilt-free, the way I should have kissed her all along. She responds, meeting my tongue with hers, her hand skimming my jaw. I cup her face with my palm, unable to pull away from her. When I finally do, I graze her cheek with my nose, loving the way she seems just as reluctant to leave me as I am to leave her. Our breaths mingle as I look into her icy blues, so much emotion in something so simple as eye contact.

And in this moment, I feel it in my bones. I know without a doubt, I’m doing the right thing. Something wet touches my fingers, and I wipe away the tear that slides down her cheek.

She steps back, a blank look on her face. Another step back. And another.

“Leighton, what's going on?”

She puts up her hand, shutting me up. She pulls out a gun from the jacket pocket.

A gun. I recognize it instantly—it's the one I had on me the night we caught her sneaking in this same parking lot. I tried not to take weapons into her room for fear I'd do this exact same thing she's doing right now.

She raises it with a trembling hand. It's shaking so hard I'm afraid she'll drop it, and kill herself or me by accident. She grips it with both her hands and points it at me, steadying the gun.

I watch, numb, as the snowflakes land on her face, melting the moment they touch lips I just kissed.

“I can’t lose my family, Devon.” It’s as simple as that.

I open my mouth to speak.

“No, let me finish.” She’s shivering; I can tell she’s cold. Why did I expect her to just let this go? “You’ve lost your family and that’s a horrible thing, but do you think if you do the same to me I’ll be able to ever look at you again?”

I look away, because that’s exactly what I thought. I thought we could leave and never look back, and just let everyone kill each other until they’re all gone. I only need her.

“Because that was never going to happen, Devon. I’m not letting them die if I can do something about it. It’s what you would have done, isn’t it? Isn’t it?” She yells the last part when I don’t answer her.

I nod reluctantly, because she’s right. I’d have done anything I could to stop what happened, but I was just a fucking kid. She can do something about it.

“Now, tell me, do you love me?”

She still has me at gunpoint. “You know I do.”

“Then come with me, and let’s figure this out. Let’s do something so no one has to die. Didn’t you have enough of death in your life?”

And snitch on my own family? I don’t think so. Whatever they did, however they used me for their own plans, no matter how many times I wished my uncle was dead because he didn’t accept me, I’d never betray them. It’s instilled in me. Family first. Everything else—my own life, Leighton’s love—everything else comes after that. Going away is the only option.

“No,” I say, knowing what will happen next. “And you know I can’t let you do that, either.”

She cocks the gun and shoots. Just like that. I find myself on the wet pavement, a dull ache shooting through my whole upper body. I raise my head, looking around, not exactly sure what just happened. Then the pain comes, the real, excruciating pain slicing through my arm. I want to move, but even thinking about it hurts like hell. She hovers over me, looking through my jacket, stubbornly avoiding my gaze. My eyes are half-closed as it is, the unconsciousness taking over. She finds what she was looking for. If I weren't dying, I'd laugh. My phone. My stupid fucking phone.

I've laid it all out for her perfectly. Her fucking hero.

I close my eyes, finding it hard to open them again.

“Dom, it's Leighton,” she says, barely audible through the whooshing wind in my ears. She's calling Dom. I don't know why I need to remember it, seeing as I'm dying, but I know I need to remember she called Dom. “I'm at the abandoned parking lot at the harbor, near the ferry terminal. Can you come?” A pause. “We can talk about that later, Dom, just come, please. Hurry.”

Something presses into my shoulder and it hurts even more than I thought imaginable, pulling me further under. “You're going to be okay,” she tells me, as I hear a car pull into the parking lot. Her lips press against mine. “I'm sorry,” she whispers, and then she leaves.

LEIGHTON

Stuffing the phone in my pocket, I get in the car, sparing Devon one last glance. I know he'll be fine because they'll find him soon, and in a few days he’ll be okay. At least, physically. It's the emotional wounds that never heal. As much as running away with him sounds like the perfect option, I have to save my family. I love Devon with everything in me, but I wouldn’t be the person I am if I just let my family die. I love them, and I’m not that selfish. This was the only way.

“Dom, just drive,” I tell my cousin, my voice breaking. Dom flashes me an odd look before taking off.

“Are you okay?” he asks, staring straight ahead. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel.

“I just need to see Dad . . . then I’ll be fine,” I ramble. I run my fingers through my hair, trying to block out what just happened. What I just did. I close my eyes but instantly see his face, so I open them and stare out the window. Looks like I will never be able to close my eyes or sleep again without seeing his broken expression.

And I deserve nothing less.

“How’s Dad? Has he been looking for me? What’s happened since I was gone?” I ask him in a rush. I need to know what’s been going on—do they suspect anything about Devon’s family?