“Do you want her there?”
Elena glanced toward the open doorway. “I want her to do whatever is going to help her heal and get through this.”
“Is it going to help you get through it?”
When her gaze settled on him, he saw the truth in her black eyes before she spoke.
“No, but it will make me feel better to know they’re dead.”
“Understandable.”
“Do you think vengeance is the answer?”
“I think there are times when we are entitled to it, and you most certainly are.”
She didn’t say anything as she peeled off another piece of her sweet bun and placed it in her mouth. She chewed as she stared out the window.
When she was a child, there was also laughter as the kids ran around playing tag, hide-and-seek, or whatever other game they came up with that day. She could still feel the sun beating on her as sweat trickled down her neck and laughter trailed in the air.
But that was only in the early days of her childhood. By the time she turned eight, most of the fun and games were over and training began. Her life from then on wouldn’t often lend itself to much laughter. Her life went from joyful bliss to one of learning how to make her husband happy.
She often pondered who would makeherhappy as she sat in those classes?
Then, one day, she realized she was asking the wrong question becausenoone else could make her happy.Shewas the only one who could do that.
It was then she started plotting her escape. She was only fifteen, but Elena knew she couldn’t leave until it became necessary, and a piece of her had always doubted she’d go through with it.
When the elders chose her husband, she knew she’d only have one chance to be free of a life she never wanted and seized it.
She turned her attention back to Logan, who studied her with a slight tilt of his head and eyes that shone with concern. Though today was probably going to be one of the worst of her life, and she’d had some really shitty days so far, she couldn’t help admiring the way the light filtered over his handsome face and illuminated his eyes.
She resisted the urge to lean across the space separating them and touch him. She might kill a man today; now wasn’t exactly the time to be thinking about kissing another one.
Logan watched Elena as she finished her breakfast before setting aside the plate. She radiated strain and sadness. Being on the firing squad was something she had to do, but it weighed on her, and he hoped she didn’t come to regret the decision.
“Will you be able to handle the blood and death of the execution?” she asked him.
“My whole life revolves around death and blood,” he said.
“How incredibly sad,” she murmured. “But I guess that’s all our lives, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
A step in the hall drew their attention to the doorway a few seconds before her mom appeared there.
“We have to go soon,” Rosa said.
“Of course,” Elena said and rose.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Elena pickedout her gun first and watched as the others claimed the remaining ones. Twenty-four men would be on the firing squad with her. She was the only woman, but she hadn’t expected anything else. She was glad Juan agreed to let her do this.
As Juan lifted the last rifle from the table, she realized he would be joining them. None of them knew who had real bullets and who had fake, and they never would, but she prayed hers contained real ones. She wanted to be responsible for killing at least one of the men who destroyed her father.
They marched out of the weapons bunker and to the middle of the field where the cows often grazed. The animals were inside today. They’d erected a wooden wall in the center of the pasture. The twelve men who plotted to destroy her father stood in front of it.
When she first spotted the men, a chill crept over her skin even as the hot sun beat down on her. Now, a fiery rush of hate rose to replace the chill. By the time they marched across the field, sweat beaded her forehead and slid down her neck to wet her shirt. Her heart thundered as her fingers tightened around the gun.
