Page 9

From that point on, we were inseparable. When my ex showed up the next day with a half-assed apology, Cole punched him and said if he came near me again, he’d break all the bones in his face.

It was so romantic.

We dated six months before we said those three words. A year before we took each other’s virginity. Not long after that, Cole got his first tattoos—the curl of snakes around his forearms, and matching ones between my shoulder blades. It made sense because we had plans for forever. I wanted to marry him, have kids with him, build a life in a crappy little town because what surrounded us didn’t matter as long as we had each other.

But then everything fell apart, and he made a promise I don’t think he ever intended to keep.

“You left me.”

His grin fades and he looks away as he gets up from the bed. “I had my reasons, Sun.”

“What was more important than me?”

“Protecting you.” I scoff and walk to the far side of the room. “I’m not the same person I was back then.”

“Clearly, because you’re breaking bread with people like Felton Maddox!” I gesture at the door. “What the hell are you doing here, Cole?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“Well, I asked first.”

“Mature.”

“Mature,” I imitate, and he scowls at me. “Tell me why you’re here.”

Asking is dangerous because the answer might destroy me. What if he did become a monster? What if he fell into the wrong crowd and the boy I loved lost all sense of morality?

Cole doesn’t answer, choosing instead to sit in an overstuffed armchair in the corner of the room.

“So you still revert to the silent treatment to piss people off?” I cross my arms and pop my hip, but still, Cole says nothing as he unlaces his boots. Anger bubbles in my chest, the kind of frustration only he can pull out of me, but despite its familiarity, I don’t sink into it. “Cole, I just watched you kill a man.” He tenses, angling his head away as if he can erase the words. “Tell me what’s going on so I don’t think you’ve become someone you promised you’d never be.”

A criminal.

My father.

His father, too.

He tugs off his boots and places them to one side. “You really wanna know?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

He exhales deeply and scrubs his face. It hits me then that this is really happening. I’ve conjured this moment in my imagination countless times, creating elaborate scenarios that kept him from coming home. It made it easier to forgive him if he had no choice but to keep his distance.

Now I’m getting the truth, and it could destroy me.

Or give me closure.

“After I left and joined the military, I did well. And people … noticed.”

“People?”

He clasps his hands together, forearms resting on his thighs, the inked snakes shifting as he tenses. I instinctively scratch between my shoulder blades, because apparently old habits die hard.

“Parts of the government I didn’t know existed recruited me. Told me I’d be working within the law, but leaning outside of it wasn’t a big deal. What you saw me do tonight … he wasn’t my first. Won’t be my last.” My heart rate picks up, and I sit at the end of the bed before my legs dip from beneath me. “I’m not with these people, Sunday. I’m here to stop them. I’ve worked for years to get to this place and be involved in the meetings that’ll happen over the next two days. I may have changed, but I’m not who our fathers were. I’m not putting people I love at risk for a sick thrill.” He stands and returns to the open suitcase where he’d retrieved a device from earlier. Taking out a T-shirt, he approaches me. “Arms up.” I hesitate before following his instructions, and he pulls the garment over my head, covering me and the lingerie.

“Thank you,” I whisper, adjusting it. “So, you’re after Felton?”

“No. Felton’s father.”