“But I need to know why Veritas was started in the first place and what they were doing under the name. I could chase every one of those names that came after, but Veritas is what brought them together first, and I need to know why. I need to know why my parents were involved at all.”
They say no one leaves, but we didn’t ask to come.
The words echoed, twisting my stomach into knots.
Before I could press him further, he took a step back.
“Look, I’ve already spent more time here than I planned. Just... be careful. If I find more, I’ll text you on our burners. But if you keep pushing outside of our meetings, one of them will notice. Most of them aren’t dead and some have done worse to get their wealth and power than a few scam businesses and a murder here and there. You don’t want that kind of attention.”
With a final, anxious glance over his shoulder, he disappeared, leaving me in the dim garage with the list and almost none of my questions answered.
I knew my parents were forced to work with Cameron, but was Veritas the reason for that? And if it was, why did they go along with it?
I looked down at the list again, trying to see if any other names stood out to me, but nothing did.
I wanted to know what kept my parents away from home so often and what made them so desperate they worked with Cameron. Why would they go along with these corrupt men when they were good people?
I guess I could say we were criminals. Maybe I didn’t know if the apples had fallen far from the tree.
Some part of me hoped it wasn’t true—that I could hold on to the thought of my parents being good, upstanding people.
I spun and headed for the car, the quiet of the night settling in around me now that I was alone. Something shifted in the shadows, and then—a hand clamped over my mouth, pressing my head back into the hard wall of someone’s chest. I stifled a scream, digging my nails into his wrist as he yanked me farther into the dark, his other arm wrapping around me like a vise.
My mind snapped into focus, already knowing this wasn’t Aiden or more of his game. His grip was too rough. There was no love or care in how he handled me. This was an attack.
With all my strength, I drove my elbow into his ribs, feeling the sharp exhale against my back as his grip faltered. I spun, eyes narrowed, catching sight of his face before he lunged again, a look of ruthless determination carved into every line.
This time, I was ready. I blocked his punch, twisting his arm enough to make him wince.
He snarled, recovering faster than I expected, and aimed low. I dodged, sweeping my foot behind his ankles and sending him sprawling, his back hitting the concrete with a heavy thud that echoed through the empty garage.
I hoped it would be enough, but he jumped up, pulling out a knife from the pocket of his jeans.
“Seriously,” I said, discreetly pulling my knife from my thigh holster. “You want to have a knife fight?”
“Don’t worry. It won’t hurt long.”
I grinned, moving the knife along my arm as he swung out. I flipped my grip on the handle, pulling the knife up past my ear before arching down. It hit his shoulder, the blade sliding in with no resistance, but I knew it wouldn’t be enough. The blade sunk into his chest, the strange cracking and slicing of skin making me cringe.
I hated this part.
I loved the way they screamed and cursed after, though. Even the way they begged for forgiveness, as if they weren’t about to kill me.
The way men would have the most depraved thoughts about me, only to beg and scream when I matched a fraction of those thoughts.
I waited as he fell to the ground, blood coating his shirt. He reached out, trying to grab my leg, but I stepped back.
“Eww, no thank you.”
“Bitch,” he groaned, his hand around the handle of my knife.
“Wow, way to hit me where it hurts,” I sighed, as if I hadn’t heard that a thousand times in my life. “I wouldn’t pull that out if I were you.”
He didn’t listen, pulling at the blade as blood rushed from the wound.
“Who are you?” I asked, watching the blood seep across his jacket. He screamed, thrashing to put pressure on it.
“Like I would tell you.” A scream seeped between each word.
