Isaac nods silently, sweat glistening on his forehead as he gulps his water.
“You know what helps is if when you close your eyes, imagine your nightmare but picture yourself beating up the bad guy.”
“Is that what you do?”
“Declan beats up lots of bad guys,” I tell Isaac, straightening his twisted pajama pants. I smile at him.
These boys don’t only belong to me. And as strange as it might be, we are starting to feel like a family, like something chosen and not something I was inducted into through violence.
I can’t tell the difference between the truth and what feels like the truth anymore.
28
DECLAN
I hearRian’s voice before I see him. It’s low and clipped, the tone he only uses when he’s talking tohim. Our father.
I step in quietly, barefoot, and catch sight of Rian hunched over the counter, phone pressed to his ear, fist clenched like he’s holding back something sharp. Kellan watches silently, hip against the counter and arms folded, hair still sweaty from all that we’ve just done with and to Caroline.
Rian listens, jaw ticking. Then: “She did what you asked.”
A pause. Then a growl, quiet but filled with venom. “So what the fuck do you mean she still hasn’t proved herself?”
I step onto the tile and pour myself more water from the fridge, watching Rian’s conversation silently. I don’t like what I’m hearing.
Rian turns, phone still pressed to his ear, and meets my eyes. There’s something cold in his face, something calculating. “Yeah,” he says into the phone. “He just walked in. I’ll tell him.”
He hangs up without a goodbye.
“What was that about?” I ask.
Rian tosses the phone onto the counter like it burned him. “Dathinks she needs to do more.”
“More?” I echo. “The girl was shaking like a leaf after the last job. I wasn’t sure we’d get her back.”
“He says what she did was…well, you saw it. She was forced. He wants proof she can follow orders.”
I stare at him. “He’s giving her an assignment.” The word sticks in my throat. It doesn’t belong in the same sentence as her. Caroline should remain untouched by his world. I run my tongue over my teeth as my mind races.
Rian nods. “A real one. He says it’s time she gets her hands dirtyon purpose.Torture, smuggling, maybe even a kill order. He wasn’t clear.”
I rub the back of my neck, trying to force down the bile rising in my throat.
“And if she refuses?”
Rian twists his lips. “Then she’s not worth keeping.”
“And if I want to keep her, whether she’s worth it or not?”
Rian’s eyes go dark. “You know he won’t let you make that choice forever. Eventually, he’ll show you what happens when you choose someone over him.”
The kitchen is too small for three grown men and this much tension. Kellan moves to the fridge and pulls out fruit to slice like he’s in some goddamn baking show, and Rian returns to cooking eggs. Off to the side, I see burnt remains of earlier attempts. So this conversation has been longer than what I saw.
I grip the edge of the counter until my knuckles go white. “She’s not ready.”
Rian doesn’t look up from the pan. “You don’t know her.”
“And you do?” I snap.
