Stillhouse Lake is where we took a stand. It’s where we said enough, even though it scared the ever-loving shit out of me. I lived every one of those days in constant terror of Melvin and his acolytes, but I did it. And we survived it.
We’re better for it. If we’d followed my first instinct, we would have bolted at the first sign of trouble. We’d probably still be on the run. Still hunted by Melvin Royal. Still in the crosshairs of the Lost Angels — with Sam on the other side of those crosshairs. Because he never would have gotten to know us. He never would have changed his mind about me.
We wouldn’t be the family we are now. Does that mean my instinct to bolt back then was wrong? I have no idea. But I do know that I’ve let too much of the fear back into my life. I don’t trust myself the way I used to.
That needs to stop.
All of it does.
I need to stop running from myself, from what happened at Salah Point, from Connor’s pain and Lanny’s need to find her own space in the world.
I’ve done it before: forced myself to accept fear in order to do what’s best for my kids. I took a stand against Melvin Royal. I brought down Absalom.
I used to fight. I used to stand my ground. I used to be strong.
That’s what Jonathan Watson did to me: he made me afraid.
But that’s not who I am.
And that sure as hell isn’t who I want my daughter to be.
“You can absolutely get into Duke,” I tell Lanny. “You’ve got the grades, and more than enough fodder for a kick-ass personal essay.” She blinks at me as if I’ve suddenly started speaking a foreign language. But I continue on. “And if you’d prefer Reyne, we can find a good weekend for you to go back up there and have another look. In fact, you should make a list of all the schools that interest you. We can turn it into a road trip.”
She turns a questioning eye toward Connor. He shrugs and looks at Sam. He lifts an eyebrow at me, curious where this is going but trusting me to lead. I hold his gaze, knowing that I’m springing all of this on him without talking it over, but somehow knowing he’ll support me.
“Everything else, we’ll figure out together,” I tell them. “There’s only one rule.” I reach out and take Sam’s hand in mine. “No more letting fear dictate our lives. We live on our own terms, no one else’s. Deal?”
EPILOGUE
SAM
I’m alone in the car driving to the rehab center when my phone buzzes. I don’t recognize the number, but I answer it away.
“Well, if it isn’t my old friend Sam Cade.”
I slam on the brakes, recognizing the voice instantly. It’s the voice of a dead man. Or at least a man who’s supposed to be dead. “Varrus. You’re alive.”
He sounds inordinately pleased with himself when he says, “I’ve been following the news. Seems you’ve found yourself in a spot of legal trouble.”
A horn honks behind me, and I quickly pull into a parking lot so I can concentrate. “Where are you?”
“Tsk tsk, that would ruin the fun, wouldn’t it?”
I fumble with my phone, trying to figure out some way to record this. I need proof that he’s still alive. It’s the only way to finally clear my name. “Whatever you’re playing at, you’re not getting away with it.”
“Probably not. But you never know. Stranger things have happened. Like you sharing a bed with the woman who helped murder your sister.”
“This isn’t a game, Leo!”
“Of course it isn’t,” he snaps. His voice grows cold and deadly even. “I told you, Sam. The Lost Angels are done playing. We’re coming for you. All of you. Consider this your last warning. Join us or get out of the way.”
Rage roars through me. “I swear to God, Leo, if you do anything to harm Gwen or our kids—”
He laughs, the sound cruel. “Wrong answer, Sam. Enjoy your family while you can.”
“Fuck you, Varrus,” I scream.
But it doesn’t matter. He’s already gone. I sit, staring at my phone, knowing there’s no way to trace the call. A chill steals over me. I was one of them once. I know exactly the rage and pain that fuels them. And I know that no amount of reasoning will stop them.
* * *
