Page 50 of The Outsider
John cracked a grim, unhappy smile. “Whatdidn’tI do to that bastard? Reduced him to a bloody, snivelling puddle on the ground. He told me what I wanted to know…eventually.”
He looked as though he’d aged a decade, his voice hollow.
“I took Allie home,” he said after a pause. “Then spent the next couple months tracking down more traffickers, and a few of theirbiggest customers. So nobody could come after her again—or any other kid.”
He let out a long breath. “Obviously, word got around the Valley that I brought Allie back. And people started saying they wanted me to be chairman, that I’d shown real leadership instead of just promising it. Old Jameson didn’t like that. Not one bit.”
“But it wasn’t your fault,” I said with a frown. “You didn’t know they’d react that way.”
John gave a bitter chuckle. “You say that as if it mattered to him. At first, he was as relieved as everyone else, but once they started talking about the chairman seat, he started saying I’d done it just to play the hero. That I’d put everyone at risk by going after a trafficking ring that could’ve hunted down the Valley and retaliated. There was infighting between people who supported me and those who sided with him.”
Anger surged through me, burning in my belly like hot coals.
“Why did they listen? How the hell did he have so much power?”
John shrugged. “The Jamesons have always had the biggest farm in the Valley. It’d be hard to find someone who doesn’t owe them a favour or two, which is just how the old man likes it…and he has five sons just like him. Sure, our inner circle never liked his family, but not everyone feels the same way.”
“Is this why you didn’t become an outrider?” I asked, and his brief pause made my heart ache.
“Not directly,” he said after a moment. “But the Chief was a friend of his, and…well, I trained with Danny, and we were evenly matched. The Chief took on Danny, but not me. As far as I can tell, the only difference between us was that Jameson didn’t hate Danny’s family.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “So, what happened after the infighting?”
“That’s when the PNC situation got more urgent. We’d started reducing the use of vehicles to conserve energy. So, Kimmy and I left. I’d already promised Granddad we would before he died, and things being so tense made it easier to go.”
And then I’d met him on that rooftop over a year into their search. Though it’d only been about eight months since then, it felt like a lifetime ago.
“So,” John continued, “because he apparently saw me as a threat, and now I’m bringing in outsiders…I’m not gonna become his favourite guy anytime soon.”
We sat in silence for a moment. I knew John was waiting for me to speak, but I didn’t know what to say. My emotions felt muddled.
“If there’s one thing I want you to always know,” he said, his voice breaking slightly, “it’s that I’d never hurt you, Claire—never. No matter what I’ve done in the past. And if I’ve broken your trust and you’re afraid of me again, then I…I’ll try to earn it back. If you’ll let me.”
“Wait, what?” I said, frowning. “Why would you say that?”
“I tortured a man,” he said with a shrug. “And while I didn’t torture the others, I didn’t give them painless deaths, either. I did it to stop them, but I also wanted revenge, and I didn’t even feel bad. Still don’t. So, if you’re back to thinking I’m a monster, I don’t like it…but I get it.”
I gaped at him. I hadn’t been afraid of him in a long time, but it struck me how deeply my prejudice in those days had affected him. Shame rose inside me, along with a desire to show him the truth.
“What would you do if someone took me?” I asked quietly. “The same thing?”
John met my gaze, his eyes intent.
“Far worse, baby,” he said, emphasizing each word. “I’d become their shadow—the thing they’re afraid of after dark. I’d hunt them down, no matter where they were, and their deaths would be as slow and painful as I could make them.”
I swallowed hard. Regardless of her intentions, Asha had been every bit as wrong as I’d thought, and I felt even more ashamed for doubting him.
John was my protector. Always had been, always would be.
My silence clearly worried him, because he sighed and said, “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you. I see that now. It’s just…before you, I never had to…discuss things before. Never had to share like this.”
“But you share with Kimmy,” I said gently. “Why, then—?”
“That’s different,” he said, with a frustrated shake of his head. “I’ve known Kimmy my whole life, and I’m used to her. She’s not going to get under my skin. With you, I’m…”
He faltered, his jaw ticking, and he looked so uncomfortable that I felt a twinge of empathy. I wasn’t exactly an expert on trust, either.
“Vulnerable?” I offered.
