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"How does it feel,corderito?" Trigger sneered, not bothering to cover up or make excuses for his twisted betrayal. "Hurts, does it not?"
"I'll leave," Tanya mumbled before quickly climbing offmywolf and bolting from the room.
"Well?" I demanded, crying inconsolably now. "How do you know him?"
"The fuck are you –"
"The photo!" I screamed, pulling on the ends of my hair. "How do you know the man in the fucking picture, Trigger!"
Brows furrowed, he picked up the photograph and studied it.
His eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched.
"This piece of shit? He pretended to help us. To protect my mother and keep us hidden. For years, he aided her – or so she thought. Until we found him with Fabio the day The Order caught up with us and cornered my mother.” He balled the photograph up and tossed it away, not giving it another thought. “Never fear. I put a blade through his traitorous heart."
Oh my god.
My dad.
He killed my dad.
Trigger murdered my father.
"You bastard," I strangled out, reaching up to clutch my aching chest. "You fucking bastard."
"It is no more than you have done to me," he countered. "Now we are even."
"No, we're not even, Trig," I replied, staggering backwards from the room. "We're done."
"What are you –"
"That's mydad!" I screamed, clutching and clawing at my hair. "You killed my father, you fucking bastard!"
“Yourpapi?” Panic flared in his brown eyes and he threw the covers off his naked body. “No,Corderito, wait!"
I didn’t wait.
Hell to the fucking no.
Turning on my heels, I bolted away as fast as my legs could carry me.
I needed to get out of here.
Anton was right.
I should have listened to him.
Maybe I could catch up with him.
He couldn’t have gotten too far.
Fuck!
"Ashton?" Tanya called out, chasing me to the top of the staircase.
"What!" I screamed, spinning around to glare at her. "Haven't you done enough, you fuckingwhore?"
"You were right not to trust me." A cruel smirk spread across her face. "I'm so much more than just a whore."
And then she leaned forward and slammed her hands into my chest.
The malice in her eyes was the last thing I remembered before falling backwards and tumbling violently down the marble staircase.
All that welcomed me when I reached the bottom was the face of my father, and the comforting cloak of darkness.
