My mouth drops open as I flick my attention to my father. Did he say soil? Is he suggesting the first person I kill be a man who stoledirt?
“The roses in the garden needed it.”
He’s telling the truth. Chloe and I took a walk last week and saw him in the blaring sun making sure Mom’s garden was tended to, but how will it look if I defend the man I’m about to kill?
I’ll never live it down.
I might not live at all.
I swallow down the bile that climbs up the back of my throat, my stomach rolling until I’m sure the light dinner I ate is about to make a reappearance.
“A liar and a thief. The perfect piece of shit for my son’s first kill,” Dad announces, and another round of cheers surrounds me.
When I take control of the family, this is the first tradition that’s being retired. No one needs a fucking audience for the first life they take, no matter what position they hold in the family.
“Son, it’s time.”
As if my body has a mind of its own, I step forward, my fingers wrapping around the handle of the gun and bringing it between us.
A voice in the back of my mind tells me not to do this, that as soon as I kill an innocent man, I’ll never get that part of my soul back, but I can’t disappoint Dad.
Matt looks up at me, his dark eyes pleading, but I steel my shoulders and flick the safety off, preparing myself to do something I promised myself I never would.
Every set of eyes is on me, which is what I remind myself as I swallow down the sob that threatens to escape.
I cannot appear weak.
I cannot let my father down.
I repeat the words over and over again, hoping at some point they’ll make what I’m about to do easier.
But even as I squeeze the trigger and watch as Matt crumples in the grass, I know I’ll never be the same.
A shocked cry fills the night, and when I glance over my shoulder, I find Neil with his arm wrapped around Chloe. She’s barely awake, her bare feet in the wet grass, her pajamas rumpled, but it’s the horror in her eyes that breaks me.
Tears roll down her soft cheeks, her body trembling as her eyes flick between me, the gun, and the dead body.
And then she runs, and without a shadow of a doubt I know I just lost the most important person in my world.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHLOE
NOW
Sleep doesn’t come easy, but even with how sleep-deprived I am, that shouldn’t come as a surprise.
As suspected, Ryker does not fit in the bed, and his feet hang off the edge like something out of a cartoon. And more than that, it seems he’s a cuddler, which is made worse by the fact that he’s a human heater.
I’m tempted to ask if he needs to see a doctor for running so hot, but the knowledge that he’ll make it into some kind of joke stops me.
He’s fast asleep, his chest rising and falling evenly, soft snores filling the otherwise quiet room. If I’m going to make a run for it, now is the perfect time to try because I might not get another chance like this.
The problem is, he insisted on bringing all my bags in, which means it’s going to be hard for me to gather them without waking him.
The question is, is it worth the risk?
It’s not that I think Ryker will hurt me if he catches me sneaking out, because if there’s one thing I’m almost certain of, it’s that he doesn’t mean me any harm, but there’s a part of me that’s terrified to disappoint him.
