“Wouldn’t have made a difference in her role for your family, would it?”
“No. She was going to have Kenna pretend to be the girl Ares supposedly saw in the fire—but who knew that other girl was actually real?” He spreads his hands.
I clench my jaw. Mom’s the cause of Ares’s long-term pain, but instead of making it up to him, she’s been trying to exploit it. But then, if she reacted with compassion, she wouldn’t be our mother.
Harvey takes a toothpick out of his pocket and puts it into his mouth. “Kenna hasn’t been very useful since lately, and you know what Zoe does to pawns who no longer have any value. But maybe you can return the favor—and use her against my sister. I’m sure you’ll think of something with that brilliant mind of yours.”
The suggestion is tempting. After all, if Mom can be ruthless and efficient, so can I. But that would make me no different from her. I don’t indulge in heartless exploitation, unlike Mom and her family. I’m not like them. Willneverbe like them.
“If you ever need more information or help, you know where to find me. Don’t forget, the enemy of your enemy and all that. This beef you think you have with us—it’s really only with your mom. The rest of the family is just…family.” He tries to clasp my shoulder, but I shift out of the way.
“Don’t hold your breath, Harvey.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Josh
The entire drive home from LAX, anger, resentment, and fear take turns hijacking my body. Negative energy seems to crackle along my skin. It’s like seeing the Dunkels has left a thick coat of filth all over me.
Impulses—none of them legal—flow through me, whispering all the ways I could get rid of Mom…and Vincent, and Roland, and Harvey. All the ways I could hide the bodies. If the Dunkels are gone, things will become more peaceful.
I park my car and breathe, my hand braced on the steering wheel. I don’t want to go in like this, not when I’m full of darkness. I’m afraid of giving in—and tainting everyone, especially Klein.
What are you afraid of? What do you think you’ll do to her?Dad’s voice asks.
Not sure what I might do, but I’m scared anyway. Mom probably didn’t mean to leave one of us to die in a fire. It just happened because she’s who she is. Roland’s words ring in my head. The way his gaze bored into me like an ice pick piercing my skull. Harvey’s velvety tone, the Dunkels’—and my own—conviction that I’ll be like my mother…
I give myself a slow five count to steady my nerves, then consciously relax my shoulders, paste on a smile and walk inside.
The place smells amazing—like roast chicken and potatoes and…home. The lingering miasma from seeing the Dunkels starts to slip away, and my smile feels less forced.
“Baby, I’m home.” The words roll out naturally, like I’ve said them thousands of times before. It feelsgoodto say them—to Klein.
She pokes her head out of the kitchen and smiles. “Welcome back.”
She’s so beautiful.She shines like the brightest star—the only light that’s clean and pure in my life. Suddenly, the urge to hold her swells. If I can just get close enough, my world will be right again.
I push my finger into the knot of my tie and pull it down. The smooth red silk drops to the floor. Her eyes follow it, then take in my face.What does she see?I wonder, a fist closing around my heart. Hopefully nothing dark or sinister, because I don’t know what I’ll do if she pulls away.
But she widens her smile and spreads her arms.
I stride across the kitchen, then claim her mouth and devour her. She kisses me back, as though she’s channeling her bright energy into me. The sense of helplessness and anger subsides. I have Klein in my arms—my precious North Star that never leads me astray.
She loops her arms around my neck, rubbing her little tongue against mine like an eager kitten. The heat in my blood burns away the clammy darkness. Gratitude and an achy need for her feel like something physical is filling me up. My hands trace the beautiful curves of her shoulders and breasts and cup the soft mounds and squeeze, earning a soft sigh. She isn’t wearing a bra.Good girl.
I swipe the pads of my thumbs over the hard nipples again and again. She shivers against me, her breathing shallowing.
“Oh my God,” she says, pulling back to drag in air. “You’re driving me crazy.”
“Like you aren’t doing the same to me.” I hoist her up on the marble kitchen island, positioning her so her hips are just off the counter’s edge. I drop to my knees, moving between her soft thighs. I crave her like the last drop of water in a desert. Only her on my tongue can quench the searing heat burning in my veins.
My hand braces the spot next to her hips. I reach underneath the pink skirt and rip the string at the side of the thong. The thin scrap of fabric slides down her thighs with a soft whisper.
“Josh.” Her hands dig into my hair, but instead of pulling me toward her, they keep me away.
I move my eyes to look up at her. “What’s wrong?”
She tries to close her legs as well, and I shrug them onto my shoulders, keeping them spread with a gentle stroke of my palm over her thigh.
