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“I told you it wasn’t me, Cash. Colt killed her.”

“Liar!” Colt roars, kicking out, his foot colliding with Mr. Ward’s mouth. A tooth comes loose, hitting the wall beside him. His body falls to the floor with a grunt.

“Is that who showed you this?” Colt turns to me, the pulse in his throat jumping rapidly. His eyes are frenzied. Manic.

“He said you were her true love,” I sob.

“What the hell did you fucking do, Colt?” Cash screams.

“No.” I stumble. “I can’t believe this.”

“Mona?” Colt breathes, taking a step toward me. “Let me explain.”

“You made me feel safe with you.”

“You are. Please…” He reaches out, but I shake my head.

“Just tell me, did you steal her heart, Colt?” I weep.

Silence fills the room, both Cash and I captivated by the emotions overcoming Colt’s features.

“I broke her heart. I didn’t steal it.” He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck, exhaustion overwhelming him.

“Were you sleeping with her?” Cash asks in defeat.

“No,” Colt barks. “Because you fucking told me she was different, you didn’t want to share her.”

“Clara didn’t belong here, and neither do I,” I choke out, shaking my head.

My heart cracks open, bleeding at their feet.

“Don’t do this. Don’t let him win,” Colt demands.

I look at their father, then to him. “I don’t trust any of you.” Sorrow grips my throat.

The ground shakes, my world crumbling around me. I’m fighting a war inside myself, buried alive in the wreckage of Clara’s death.

The fire has burned out. All that’s left is ash.

“Mona?” They both say my name, but I hold my hands up.

“Don’t come near me,” I croak. “Stay the hell away from me.”

“Mona…” Colt calls my name, defeat in his tone.

“Stay the hell away from her,” Cash growls, swinging a fist that collides with Colt’s jaw. They squabble, knocking into walls and the table. I rush past them. Flinging open the front door, I run straight into a wall of flesh. My mouth pops open. “Father?”

“Mona,” Eli calls out, stepping from behind my father and clutching me to him.

“Eli?”

“Thank God we found you.”

The noise from inside echoes to where I stand, the grunts and smashing of furniture. Is this really happening?

“What are you doing here?” I ask them both, but Eli answers me.

“What are you doing here is a better question?”

“It’s time to come home, Mona.” My father lifts a hand and smothers my mouth with a cloth, a strong scent burning my nostrils and throat.

My vision blurs as I struggle against his hold, then nothingness clouds my eyes, darkening everything.

Twenty-Three

Cash

Anger, burning and palpable, hums through my veins. A heavy weight inside my chest steals my breath. All this time, I’ve been looking for answers, holding on to hope that my father didn’t kill Clara, that her death wasn’t my fault. The idea that Colt could hurt her feels too much of a burden to fucking bare. My mind pictures her beautiful face etched with fear as she looked up at a replica of the man who promised her the world.

“You have to listen to me,” Colt demands, his nose bloody.

“Fuck you. Did you really do it?” I ask, my fist raised above him after knocking him to the floor.

“How can you think that?”

“What about Annemarie?”

“I couldn’t give a fuck about Annemarie. Why the hell would I kill her? This is Dad setting us against each other, you have to see that. He’s always hated our bond.”

“Arghhh,” I roar, punching the floor beside his head before getting to my feet. Sharp pain splits my skull. “I can’t think,” I groan. Chaos rages in my brain.

“Clara came to me that night.” Colt pants, trying to get himself together. I recognize he could have fought back, kicked my ass, but he didn’t. He took my rage.

“She had a thing for me, but I didn’t encourage it. I don’t understand why she felt anything for me. I wasn’t even civil to her. I was an asshole, but she seemed to feed off that.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m fucking sorry. I didn’t do anything. I told her to get on our boat and go the fuck home. When she refused, I drove her myself.”

“Why couldn’t she fucking love me? I would have moved heaven and earth for her.” It fucking hurts more than anything. The truth has hunted me down, and it’s just more fucking pain.

“I love you, Cash. You’re my brother, my blood. If I’d known she would die that night…I’ve gone over that night a million times in my head, I would’ve done anything to change things.”

“She was a fucking slut anyway, why the fuck can’t you both just forget her?” our father yells, blood pouring from his mouth.

I march over to the safe, pull out the hardballer gun, and aim it between my father’s eyes, firing off two rounds in his head. He doesn’t have time to react, to see it coming. Bang, bang—lights out. I should have done that five years ago. Even if he didn’t kill her, he hurt her. He was vile to her. To Mona.

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