Page 80 of Graves

“Of course, babygirl.”

Dom makes a plate for himself and takes the seat beside me, holding my hand in his as we eat in comfortable silence. Unfortunately, all good things always come to an end.

“I need to make a drive to the farm tonight,” Zayden says.

Dom nods. “Need some help?”

Zayden shakes his head.

“What farm?” I ask.

They both pause, sharing one of those twin looks before glancing at me.

“It’s a friend’s farm,” Dom says cryptically.

I raise an unimpressed eyebrow before turning to face Zayden, who doesn’t hesitate.

“It’s where we take bodies to disappear from time to time, a pig farm.”

“A pig farm?” I ask slowly, his words running in my head for several seconds. “Jim is going to be eaten by a pig?”

The laugh that escapes me can’t be contained. I giggle and cackle and even start to cry a little bit. That is honestly the cherry on top.

“Yeah. We have other ways we could do it, but the fucker is so fat, I think it’s the easiest. I don’t want to spend all night hacking him up piece by piece,” Zayden agrees, laughing along with me.

Dom is the only one not laughing as he looks between thetwo of us.

“Who was he?”

My laughter dies instantly, my appetite instantly souring. I expect him to apologize and drop it, but he only stares at me patiently. I look to Zayden for assistance, but he doesn’t seem to be willing to offer any. Dom’s eyes are begging me to open up fully and with Jim dead, I guess I don’t feel the fear to do so that I once did.

“He is…was my foster dad.”

Understanding clicks behind Dominic’s eyes as his jaw hardens to granite.

“He hurt you,” he states.

“Yes,” I agree.

I feel Zayden’s thighs tense beneath me, and I place a hand on one of them, causing him to relax instantly.

“He used to have his friends come over. ‘Poker night,’” I say, using air quotes as I continue. “They’d play, smoke cigars, and then they’d get bored and wake me…” My voice trails off as I turn away from their prying eyes, swallowing through the next part.

“The first time I was nine, the last time I was sixteen, when I ran away.”

The air is filled with dangerous tension, so thick you could practically choke on it.

“Names,” Dominic grits out.

“What?” I ask, turning to face him.

“Do you remember their names? The friends?”

I shrug. “Yeah.”

“Give them to me, babygirl. Right now.”

“Why?”

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