Page 2 of All Your Firsts

Gage scans the yard. “How about we talk about this somewhere else?”

“I’m not going back in there.” I point at our family home behind me with a hitch of my thumb. He will have to sedate me with a horse tranquilizer before I willingly walk back into the house.

“Neither am I. Let’s go, Ro,” Gage says, his voice carrying through the air as he turns toward the towering trees that line our tall wrought-iron fence without looking back.

I bite my lip and watch him as he continues to saunter away from me.

I don’t know if I trust him. There was a time when my trust in him surpassed the trust I had in myself. However, that was years in the past. He’s been gone for a long time, and I can see his changes from just a glance—he’s not the same brother I once adored.

His dark aura has nothing to do with his midnight-black hair or his deep ocean-blue eyes. He’s packed on muscle, has a hardness to his eyes, and lacks a smile that once shined brightly. Thenthere are the tattoos peeking out of his suit jacket that wind up his neck. He looks like trouble and destruction.

He halts and turns, his gaze piercing into me as I grapple with my conflicting emotions.

Can I trust him? My other brother–Gage’s twin, Marco–has been no help to me. So why would he be different?

“Time’s ticking. Alfonso will be awake soon.”

I stride toward him and murmur, “Why would he be sleeping?”

Gage just smiles, and it’s not the cheerful type of smile. It’s a malicious but satisfied smile.

“Are you done asking me questions, or do you plan on getting caught?”

“I already did.” I look at him with narrowed eyes. “By you.”

“I’m here to help you make your great escape. But we need to go now.”

“Why would you want to do that? Why now?”

“I was trapped, just as you are now. I’m here to right the wrongs of not getting you out sooner.”

Okay, not what I expected him to say.

He could be telling the truth because that sounds more like him from before. But still. “I don’t know if I can trust you.”

“There’s only one way to find out. Come on,” he says as he extends his hand out to me once more.

I have no other choice but to trust him. This is better than the alternative of walking back into that house and dealing with my father.

I take his hand, and together, we walk through the dense canopy of trees. He pulls me to the right, and I stop dead in my tracks.

“Is that…? Is he dead?” I whisper as the toe of my boot nudges the limp body of my father’s guard, Alfonso, his gun still holstered to his chest.

“He’s just taking a nice little nap.”

Red crimson trickles from his scalp. “Is that blood? Why’s his head bleeding?”

“How else was I going to put him to sleep?”

I look up into Gage’s soulless eyes. “Who the hell are you?”

“Your savior, but if you don’t hurry, I’ll end up being your cellmate in the basement. Let’s go.”

“Peace out, Fons,” I say as I wave, giving the incapacitated guard my middle finger. He’s the one who caught me the last time I tried to escape a year ago from one of my father’s arrangement attempts.

Alfonso’s joy was evident as he brought me back and watched with a gleam in his eye as my father repeatedly struck me with his belt. The only thing that kept me from screaming was the chant I repeated in my head, hoping for them both to die a slow, painful death. History will not be repeating itself tonight.

My foot rears back and connects with his ribs with a delightful thump, but unfortunately, he doesn’t make a sound since he lies limp and unconscious.

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