Page 129 of Redeeming the Villain

My shoulders fall because I know what she’s about to say.She already knows.

“I saw you two talking. Not like new acquaintances. Like old enemies. You wereso angry. And he was so … I don’t even know how to explain it. I’ve never seen him quite like that.”

My heart drops when she doesn’t add anything about the conversation.

“You didn’t hear what he said, did you?”

She shakes her head, and I sigh. Part of me was hoping that she had. At least then I wouldn’t have to be the one to expose her father to her. But he would find a way to make me the bad guy.

“Alora …” I clench my jaw and swallow hard.

She reaches out and grabs my hand to console me, and selfishly, I let her keep it, her delicate fingers stroking mine.

“Please tell me,” she whispers, like she’s scared if she says it any louder, I’ll stop.

But there’s no going back now. There hasn’t been for a long time.

“I had a little brother.”

Her eyebrows pinch in confusion, which, unfortunately, will fade as I continue.

“He was killed when he was ten and I was fifteen. I had taken him out for ice cream—an escape from our abusive uncle’s care.” My chest tightens, my throat and eyes burning as I force myself to speak the next words aloud. “On our walk home, he was hit by a drunk driver. He, uhh …” I feel a sob trying to break loose, so I clear my throat. “He died in my arms.”

I look down at our interlocked hands, unable to hold her stare any longer. It’s too intense, tooall-seeing.

She lets me continue without interrupting, and I’m thankful because if given a chance to stop, I will take it.

“The driver was a man, in town for some … event.”

She gasps, putting it together in her own mind.

A beat of silence consumes us as our breaths halt in our lungs. I don’t even want to say it out loud, but I need to, for both of us.

“Your dad killed my brother that night. And it wasn’t an accident.” I pause. “Because afterward, he didn’t take accountability. He paid his problems away.”

When I flick my teary eyes up to look at her, her blue gaze is clouded with sadness of her own.

“What did he do?” Her voice is soft yet broken.

My heart constricts in an entirely new way.

Not a drop of doubt is in her tone or her body. She believes me. She really believes me.

That means more than she’ll ever know.

Clawing at my throat, I sigh. “He paideveryone. Threw money at anyone who would take it. The EMTs, the cops, my uncle. He bought their silence, and they swept Micah under the rug like he wasnothing.”

Her eyes slam shut, and tears stream down her cheeks, rolling off her chin and falling to the pink sweater, darkening the fabric in a similar way I feel I’m darkening her. Taking away her naive image of her dad.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur, and her eyes fly open in anger.

She inches closer to me, holding my hand tighter. “Don’t you dare say you’re sorry. If anyone in this room should be, it’s me.”

“It wasn’t you who did it, Alora, even if it took me a long time to understand that.Too long.” Lifting her hand to my lips, I kiss the back of her hand tenderly. “I hated you, Alora. I thought I did at least.

“Every time I saw you, I sawhim. The man who had murdered my brother and then covered it up with money and bribes. As if he had hit a Stop sign and not the most important person in my life.”

She cocks her head to the side. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

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