Page 95 of The Killer Card

“Scouts honor,” I hold up my hand.

Rowan snorts. “We both know you were never a scout- Don't you dare fucking salute me!"

My hand is already at my temple. “You got it, Sir.”

He rolls his eyes, yanking open the door to my room and stepping out into the hall with a muttered, “Singao.”

Elias gives my shoulders one last squeeze before releasing me to head to his own room. “Get some rest, Graham. We’ll deal with the rest tomorrow.”

Right. The rest. Calling his lawyer to get this scrubbed from my record. Reporting my sister’s abuse anonymously. Apologizing profusely to Clara for missing her wedding night, even if it was spur of the moment and I didn’t know they’d rush right into it. I can only imagine how upset she must have been, how concerned Poppy was, that Naomi didn’t give a fuck at all.

Thinking of her gives me pause.

She hardly looked at me all night. From the moment we picked her up at the airport to the end of Clara’s performance, not a single glance my way. Maybe it’s deserved for how I spoke to her this past spring, but didn’t she deserve that too. Is it not high fucking time she feels the same shit she’s forced me to feel all these years?

And maybe it’s because the last thing I want to be tonight is alone, but I find myself heading for the door, bare footing it down the hall to her room. I should hesitate before I knock. I should just turn around and head back to my room, but neither of those things happen. My fist is solid against the door as I knock exactly three times.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

There’s a slight shuffle of sheets, feet padding across the floor. A pause. And then the door opens, revealing Naomi in a silk nightgown, robe, and a glass of wine in her hand.

“You look like shit,” she tells me and I snort out a laugh. “Fighting again, Graham? Really?”

“Drinking alone in your hotel room, Naomi? Really?”

She sucks at her teeth. “Where were you—”

“In jail, obviously.”

She dips her head. “For?”

Now it’s my turn to clench my teeth. “For punching the shit out of my sister’s abusive husband,” I tell her, which is clearly not what she expected to hear. “You gonna let me in or not?”

The door opens just a little wider and I step inside, taking her wine with me. “Hey!” She protests but I finish the glass, setting it aside with the empty bottle. She glares between the bottle and me before crossing her arms. “I thought you lost contact with your sister after you killed your grandpa—”

“I did. But I still looked her up every few years just to confirm she was alive.” I settle on the end of her bed. “I knew she lived nearby and… I don’t know. I wanted to see her. Maybe it was the Ballet or the incoming emotional bombshell of the evening, but I just didn’t want to put off seeing her again any longer…”

I bow my head, massaging my palm with my thumb. “She thought I was dead, you know? All these years. She just assumed I died. Never looked for me but looked almost relieved to see me alive.” A hollow laugh escapes my tight throat. “She married that fucker who assaulted me. She didn’t know what he’d done- not the full extent anyway- but… She still did. She had kids with him. A niece and a nephew I’ve never met. Who think I’m dead.”

“Graham—"

“She told me it was happening to her too,” I can’t stop now that I’ve started. “Not being sold, but she was being hit. Used in ways that would still keep her virginal. She never told me back then. We hardly ever spoke. If I’d known—”

“What?” Naomi takes my face in her hands, forcing me to look up at her. “What would you have done? Killed him sooner? Separated you two sooner? Thrown her to that man sooner? Nothing would be better for knowing, Graham. She was protecting you—”

“I should have protected her—“

“You did!” Her hands tighten. “You got her out when you did- even if it was in that man’s house- and that is the best you could have done back then.”

“I was her brother—”

“Her younger brother, Graham. You were seventeen. You can’t blame yourself for things that were done to either of you as children.”

“What about now?!” I gesture toward the windows where the lights of the strip shine brighter than the stars. “I just left her with him tonight—"