Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 148220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
“No, angel.” As gently as I can, I stop her. “He’s not in the clinic.”
“Yes, he is. The doc said that—”
“The doc lied. And I’m so fucking sorry.”
“What do you mean, he lied?” Her voice rises on a sharp note, her chest hitching wildly. “He told Victor to take him to the clinic. And Victor told him to go quietly. Because if Hatchet didn’t…if he didn’t… He would go quietly. He wouldn’t give them trouble.”
“Why do you say he lied?” Creek asks, though he sounds like he doesn’t want to know. He’s slumped back in his chair, eyes on me. “What did you see?”
“Victor walked him out behind the barns—”
My girl makes a sound like I gutted her with a knife. Shaking hands covering her mouth, she implores me, “Because they were walking to a vehicle? Please. Please.”
Throat clogged, I shake my head and watch her shatter right in front of me, those emerald eyes turning to dull glass and breaking into glittering tears, face crumpling as she dissolves into heart-wrenching sobs. Utterly destroyed, I wrap my arms around her.
“I’m so fucking sorry, angel. I know he helped you. But this isn’t your—”
“Puh…please. Please,” she begs against my throat, her tears burning my skin. “You have to be wrong. You have to be.”
“Did you see it?” Creek asks dully.
“Saw him on his knees.” I hold her tighter with every quiet word. “Then heard it. A single shot.”
My girl flinches at shot, the wild sobs breaking into gulping heaves of her chest. “No no no. Not Matt. Oh god, oh god no, please, not him.”
“Ah fuck,” Creek suddenly breathes, sitting upright. “You’re the sister.”
She chokes. Then bolts out of my arms, bumping into the table and sending the pictures flying as she races for the bathroom. I lurch after her. The door slams in my face but the sounds of violent retching make real clear what’s happening on the other side.
Hands braced on the doorframe, I look over to Creek, who’s rubbing his hands down his face. “What sister?” I ask hoarsely. “Who the fuck is Matt?”
“Hatchet,” he says, a muscle in his jaw working. “He was one of mine. And we knew his sister had vanished around the same time, but her co-workers said she’d come into some money, and that she was either going back to college or traveling. We’d hoped it was just traveling.”
Fuck. Stomach twisting hard, I open the door. Her head’s hanging over the bowl, so I wet a washcloth before hunkering down beside her, holding back her hair. She’s mostly just crying now, and when she gags again nothing comes up.
“Hey.” Tenderly I wipe her face, her mouth. “I’m so sorry, angel. Hatchet’s your brother, then—his name is Matt?”
She nods, tears coursing down her face. Rocking back, she crumples into the corner of the room, wedged up between the tub and the wall. I follow her down and give her a warm body to lean against instead of a cold tub. When I get my arm around her, she turns her face against my shoulder, still sobbing those heart-wrenching sobs.
Each one wrenching at my heart, too. Protecting her brother all this damn time, likely knowing that undercover agents with their covers blown have a real short life expectancy. Only to get here and learn this.
I don’t know how long she cries with me holding her. Another wish of mine granted. To stay with her a little longer.
Didn’t know it would cost her so fucking much.
Eventually she goes quiet. Just shaking against me with her chest hitching on every breath. I hold her, waiting for her to talk—or not. Words or silence, whatever she needs, that’s what I’ll give.
After a little while, it’s words. Hers are thick and dull. “Every horrible thing I did. Everything I would have done. Just trying to keep us alive long enough to get out of there. It was all for nothing.”
I don’t know if she’s talking about playing bait and don’t care. None of it was for nothing. “You’re wrong there, angel. Because I can tell you right now that your brother didn’t give a fuck about anything except getting you out. So all that you did, every step that got you to where you’re sitting here now, safe from Papa and still breathing? That would mean everything to him.”
That starts her tears up again. But I know I’m right. Anyone who loved this girl wouldn’t care if he got out alive. As long as she was safe.
“He knew,” she sobs quietly. “He knew what they were going to do. I didn’t realize then but he told me not to wait for him to come back. But why didn’t I realize? I could have…I could have done something.”
There wasn’t anything she could have done. Matt would have known that. Likely she knows it, too.