Page 118 of Fallen Hero

“You’ll always be my sister, even if when we grow up, I move to Paris and you move to New Zealand.”

I didn’t want to move to New Zealand.

“But—”

Lili squeezed my hand and gave my arm a slight jerk. “What I’m saying is, no matter what, we’re sisters. You don’t have to like the beach or softball or painting. I’ll love you even if you don’t like what I like. I just want my little sister to be happy.”

“I want you to be happy too, Lil.”

She tugged my hand, stepping farther out into the surf.

“Lil and CeCe, best friends forever!” she shouted, lifting our hands above my head.

“Lil and CeCe, best friends forever!” I echoed.

With a rebel yell, my fearless sister dove under the water, taking me with her.

I shook free of the memory—our last vacation to North Carolina. The next year, my parents had taken us to Daytona, and Lili discovered the orange-sand beach at Flagler. From that year on, every summer until Lili went missing, we’d spent a week together in Florida.

Good times I’d forced myself to forget.

The best of times.

Lil and CeCe, more than sisters—best friends, happily sitting on the beach doing nothing but spending time together. Just being us.

I glanced back at Jason, the truth slamming into my chest with such force it knocked the air from my lungs. A truth I’d buried because it didn’t fit my narrative. A truth I’d ruthlessly denied so I could plan and plot and do so free of guilt.

Liliya would hate this.

She’d hate all the years I’d wasted, keeping the worst years of her life alive and forgetting the love we’d shared.

My sister would be pissed, and when Lili was angry, she was hell on wheels. She’d chew me out and not hide her disappointment.

It was time.

To give up the past.

To stop resuscitating the pain.

To start healing from the loss of her.

But first, it was time I got my ass up and out the door.

Fuck Jason Anderson.

God would be the judge of his soul.

Bodhi abruptly dropped his phone. The clatter of it hitting the concrete echoed through the hangar. I watched as he yanked his rifle up, the combat sling smoothly adjusting as he fitted the rear of the stock to his shoulder. His gaze swiftly cut to me, but he spoke to Jason. “We have company.”

Company?

“Get ready to leave,” Jason said to the pilot as he drew his sidearm.

I bolted out of the chair, uncaring it fell back in my haste, and took off running.

I was nearly at the door when Jason’s hand caught my hair. With a vicious yank that made my scalp scream in pain, he spun me around. I only had seconds to lift my arms and cover my face before he hammered down the butt of his gun.

My temple exploded in pain. The flow of blood fast on its heels.