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Kyle bares his teeth, and I see the pain that flashes across his face from my knife. “She was going to be better than Olivia ever was, and for a brief moment, she was—”
“—until I came back.” I smirk at Kyle, taking the seat that Lion was on, directly opposite him.
“Hmm,” Kyle grunts. “Why was that?”
I lean forward. “Because you can’t fuck with fate.”
Lion is my father, and my mom is dead. My real parents. People I didn’t think I would ever know. I can’t help but find myself studying every inch of Lion’s face when he’s not looking. Stealing glances of him when I can. I no longer care about Kyle and the evil which exists within him. I’ve spent too many years being touched and caressed by it that now, now that he’s at our mercy, I don’t want to go near him. I wished for this day so many times over the years, but now that it’s here, finally staring at me point-blank in the face, I am no longer interested. Piqued by the revelation of knowing my biological father is too captivating, it’s all I want to know. I want to know everything about him.
Fuck Kyle.
Fatigue is pulling me deeper and deeper into myself, but I will not walk away. Not because I need to see the violence that’s about to occur, because I honestly don’t, but because I promised Royce that I would be here, standing right beside him, through it all. I owe it to him and to myself to be that person for him.
“You came back for her? How sweet.” Kyle chuckles. Royce has been patient for the most part. “You disobeyed me!” Kyle roars, his eyes flaring with anger. “You were going to pay for it!”
“I fucking did disobey you.” Royce starts cutting through Kyle’s clothing until his shirt is split open, baring his chest before cutting through his pants. It’s oddly pleasing seeing Kyle look so powerless for once. Over the years that I endured his abuse, that’s one thing that he never looked.
Powerless.
I want to ask questions. Like what Royce means by driving him, Orson, and Royce out of town, and who my mother really was, but I already know that I wouldn’t want any other view on my mother that doesn’t come from Lion.
Those things can wait.
“And why?” Kyle further asks, watching Royce.
“Why did I come back?” Royce asks, stepping backward while regarding Kyle closely. He cocks his head. “Because Jade.”
“Sick!” someone calls out from behind us and we all shift to see who it is.
Roo jogs over, leaning into Royce’s ear to whisper something, his eyes coming to me every few seconds.
Royce pulls out the chair and takes a seat, as Roo disappears back where he came from. “How about why did you do all of this?”
When Kyle doesn’t answer, Royce raises his foot and drops it down on top of his knife that’s sticking out of Kyle’s leg.
Kyle cries, wincing. His eyes come to Royce as saliva falls from his mouth, his lip curled. “Why, what? I told you. Jade was mine.”
Royce chuckles before leaning forward, pulling the knife from his thigh and launching it into his other. “Last chance.” Royce leans over, and I stop breathing.
“He did it because he’s a bad man, Royce. That’s it.” I take a step toward him, my hand coming to his shoulder. Did I know if this was true? No. Was I going to allow Royce to hold any of the blame for his father being a sick, twisted monster? Also no. I rest my other hand on his other shoulder, and I lean down, my eyes on Kyle as he watches the way Royce and I fold into each other. “Sometimes people are just bad. There’s no reason why they’re bad, or no defining moment that made them snap, sometimes, they’re just evil.”
“Hmmm,” Kyle says, shuffling in his chair. The day is turning to night, while clouds clap together in the sky. My exhaustion from today is heavy. “If only it were that simple.”
Lion’s eyes come to me. “Should have seen it earlier. How much you resemble her.” Taken aback by his admission, I find myself stumbling over the words I want to say.
Thank you? I’m sorry?
I look to Kyle. “What happened to her?”
Kyle spat blood from his mouth, glaring up at me from below his lashes. “She, let’s just say—disappeared without a trace.”
“Bu—” A loud bang explodes from the front of the clubhouse and I fall to the ground, the sound zoning in and out of my ears. Dust particles fall all around us in gray clouds of smoke. My head thumps, my skin aches. Someone heavy is on top of me, yelling and screaming in the distance. I can’t hear what anyone is saying over the sharp ringing in my ears, but I think it’s something like, “Run!”
