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“But you raised me in Snowflake. You were the one who went to Cyrus and told him you were pregnant with me.”
Mom slumps into the stool beside me. “I didn’t go to Cyrus. He came to me. You were six months old and we were barely making it. I had worked at this bar before I was pregnant with you so I could save up enough money to go to the community college in Bowling Green. I was using that money to support us and pay for babysitting so I could work. The money was going fast. One night, Cyrus showed up at the bar asking me if it was true. If you were his grandson.”
“What? How did he know?”
“He didn’t say, but two days later the Riot visited me at my apartment and told me they were the ones who told Cyrus about me and you. They said that there was a war between the Riot and the Terror and they told me they would protect me and you, but in order to do so I would have to disavow the Terror, move to Louisville, and once there they would take care of us.”
“Why did you choose to stick with the Terror? With Cyrus?”
She lifts one shoulder, then lets it fall. “They say the devil you know is better than the one you don’t. I never wanted anyone to take care of me or you. Only person I wanted in control of my life was me. I had enough of that controlling nonsense growing up. The question I have always asked myself is how? How, when it came to James, did the Riot know something the Terror didn’t?”
I close my eyes as pain rolls through me. Because my father was a traitor, that’s how. When I reopen them, I’m looking at a brand-new world—or at least the world I should have always seen. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Cyrus told me it would be safer for you if you never knew about the Riot’s visit and I agreed. I thought I could take advantage of what Cyrus was offering me. Free babysitting while I worked nights. I thought you’d be asleep most of the time and they wouldn’t have much of an influence on you, but I was wrong. If I could go back and change things, I would have left Snowflake the day James died and never looked back. I should have raised you on my own. It would have been hard, but at least you would have been safe.”
I lean forward, kiss her forehead and hug her. So much she’s given up for me. So much she’s done in the name of love. Mom’s right. It’s time I start making choices and owning up to the ones I’ve already made.
One of those promises being the one I made to Violet years ago and reconfirmed in that basement and again last night. I promised to love her, I promised to protect her, I promised to be her best friend. It’s officially time to man up.
Violet
MY CEILING FAN goes round and round. Sometimes I make myself dizzy as I try to follow one blade, sometimes I squint my eyes and the blades blend together. Numb. I’m trying for numb and I’m on the verge of failing. There’s this black ball in my chest clawing to get out, and if I let it out, I’m afraid I’ll never be able to contain it.
A buzz and my head jerks up from the pillow. I roll over to grab my cell off the nightstand. There are no messages and the buzzing continues. Takes my slow mind a moment to catch up, but then my heart takes off at a gallop. I spring out of bed, tripping over my own feet as my knee gives, and hit the floor with a thud.
I reach between my mattress and box spring and pull out the burner phone. “Hello.”
“Yes or no answers only,” Detective Jake Barlow says, “in case they’re listening.”
“Okay.” Even though that’s not a yes or a no.
“Did you find the account numbers?” This guy doesn’t sleep, doesn’t eat, doesn’t understand anything beyond nailing the Riot. He probably doesn’t understand heartbreak either.
I take a deep breath and give him the truth. “Yes.”
“Bank account for the Riot?”
“Yes.” In the computer. The password wasn’t easy to figure out and I almost didn’t think I was going to crack it, but I did. It was something Dad taught me a long time ago when I couldn’t think of passwords I could remember. To take the middle names of people you love the most and spell them backward.
“Account numbers for security company clients?”
“Yes.” Also in the computer. I wasn’t lying to Chevy. I was looking in those files so I could see pictures of Dad. I had already found what I needed at that point.
“Did the Riot tell you how to get ahold of them once you had the information?”
I huff out enough air that my longer bangs move. “No.”
“Figures. We know they’re watching you. They’ll contact you soon, and when they do, you need to contact me so we can set it all up.”
The muscles in my back tense. Setting it all up means being alone with the Riot again. No pressure.
The whine of a knob turning, a creak of someone placing pressure on the floor. “Someone’s up. I’ve got to go.”
Without waiting to hear his response, I hang up, and shove the burner phone back between my mattress and box spring. Hands on the floor, a shove and blinding pain shoots through my knee. My butt hits the floor again hard. I slam my open palms against the carpet with enough force that my skin stings.
Stupid knee, stupid Riot, and stupid Chevy for once again breaking my heart.
A flick of the hallway light and my room feels darker than it was before. I blink rapidly and my stomach flips with the memory of being blinded weeks ago. I breathe out as my lungs tighten with the shadow in the doorway.
