“No,” I answer.
She taps her finger to her lips. “I think I’ll take our prize here and make sure she gets locked up while we wait for Darius’ demands.”
“He doesn’t give a fuck about me,” Puppet says from behind me, and I clench my fists. Why did she have to speak? Why is she even fucking here? She was going to leave and get away from all of this. Find somewhere safe.
“I doubt that. He’s your father,” November responds. Puppet walks beside me, and I angle my body to shield her.
“He sold me, let his men do—things.” She swallows, and I want to confront her right there, but I can’t give November any more reason not to trust me. If she finds out I’ve been fucking the leverage she’s been searching for, she’ll rip Puppet from my dead hands.
That’s the only way she will get to touch her.
“All part of his plan to lure this one out, I’m sure. Did you know this man here was supposed to take your father out two years ago? He claimed he did. Odd for him to show up alive and for you two to be so…cozy,” she says with a sneer. “Did you forget Darius had your brother killed, or was a good fuck enough for you to forget your vendetta? I bet you let Darius go yourself. Got his whore of a daughter in exchange for his freedom.”
I step forward, my fists clenched and jaw locked.
November pulls a gun from her back, and I shove Puppet behind me. “Go,” I urge her. Desperately pleading that she listen. “Please.”
“Hand her over, and I promise your death will be quick,” November demands.
I stand with my back rod straight. For the second time tonight, I’m staring down death.
“But,” Puppet starts, and I lean back into her.
“I’m so sorry.” She’s seen my face. She knows who I am, but still, she doesn’t want to leave me. “Run.” I shove her back with one hand and charge at November. The gun fires, and I risk one glance to see the ends of Puppet’s red dress and bare feet slipping through the closing door.
Thirty-Six - Tess
I wipe the tearsin my eyes and slam the car into drive. Inside the paper X gave, with an address scribbled on it, were the keys to his car.
His.
Him.
My brain can’t even make sense of what I saw, like it refuses to believe the truth. But how can I deny it?
It makes sense why Roxy never felt threatened. She wasexcitedto see him that first night he showed up.
Because. She. Knew. Him.
Mr. Collins is X.
Ryan’s dad. All this time at his house, the lake house… I’ve been fucking my best friend’s dad and didn’t even know it.
Holy fucking shit. The tires squeal once I reach the blacktop, and I toss the address X gave me into the passenger seat. I have to make sure Ryan is safe. If Dad makes good on his threat, that’s the first place he’ll go. If he knows who X is, he knows about him. He fucking knew allalong. I pull off on the edge of the road and put my best friend’s address in the GPS. I have no idea where I am. The location shows it’s an hour away, and I waste no time stomping on the gas.
My mind spins as I drive down the curvy back roads until, finally, I reach a straight highway. Tears stream down my cheeks at the truth of everything that’s happened. Dad is a monster who was raised by monsters. X—Mr. Collins—is a different breed of monster, and I assume the woman he attacked is someone he worked with or worked for? There are so many questions and things that aren’t adding up.
The overwhelming sense that I just lost X and I’ll never see him has me sobbing. I swerve through the traffic, using the emergency lane more than the normal lanes. A horrible choking sound curls up my tightening throat. I allow myself to feel every emotion I’ve stuffed down since finding Dad at my house. Every slap, every drug, every touch, and every curse word thrown my way twists my insides until it’s ugly and unrecognizable.
Monsters raise monsters, and I’m going to follow in my father’s footsteps.
I drop open X’s glove box and smile when I find a pistol and holster. I place it in the seat and lift the center console to find another pistol plus a knife.
First, I’m going to get Ryan, then Roxy. Last, I’m going to find my father, learn who the bitch was that shot X, and make them both pay for what they’ve turned me into. The driveway outside of Ryan’s is empty. I grab the pistols and rush up to his front door.
“Ryan!” I shout, banging on the door. I glance back at the street. It’s nearly midnight, and everyone else seems asleep. “Ryan! It’s me. Open the door!”
The lock clicks, and the door swings open, revealing Ryan in nothing but his boxers and squinting at me with tousled hair. “Tess? What the hell are you doing?”