Page 42 of Hunted Innocence

I can hear Landon’s voice rising, although I’m not listening to the words he’s saying. Giving Brody a bright smile, I try as hard as possible to stay positive, at least from the outside looking in. Because I’m scared to death right now. I’m also not sure we’re going to make it out of here alive, but Brody and I are going to do our damnedest.

When Landon shouts for my parents to get on their knees, it brings my attention back to the situation. Tearing my gaze from Brody, I look over to see both of my parents on their knees and their hands in the air, palms up in a surrender position.

“I let you work and live. Paid you for your work. Staged your deaths, and this is how you repay me?” Landon asks.

Well, that answers that. Which, honestly, I’m not surprised at all. Landon Tate craves control over every person in his life. My parents were a liability that he, without a doubt, needed to control. Because what if they got sober and thought about what he had done?

What if they went to the authorities?

I mean, I could have told him that would never happen. I don’t think my parents have been sober a day past high school. Their courtship, their marriage, every aspect of their lives has revolved around drugs, doing drugs, making drugs, selling drugs.

Brody and I were nuisances that just got in the way of their addiction.

Stepping to the side, I know what is coming. There is no way that Landon is going to allow them to survive. But as I brace myself for the sound of the gun’s blast to bounce off the walls around me in this small house, it doesn’t happen.

Instead, I watch as he moves toward them, then crouches down in front of them. He produces two baggies and hands one to each of them.

“What’s this?” my father demands, but the way he says it sounds as if he’s excited.

Like maybe he’s salivating at the mouth.

And when my parents open the little baggies and I watch them snort them up their noses, I know that yes, indeed, they are happy. The only thing that makes them happy—their drugs.I watch as they gleefully snort the contents of the baggie off the floor.

They are, without a doubt, the epitome of stereotypical addicts. The way Landon watches them, I have a feeling they are about to die. He’s smiling, his expression almost soft and tender.

I remember that look.

That was the look he gave me when he was attempting to lull me into a false sense of security right before he delivered a severe dose of pain. Maybe I should use these last few moments with them to forgive them for what they’ve done to me, because I have forgiven them.

What I haven’t done is ever forgotten, but I forgave them years ago. I made excuses for them, which was wrong, but I did forgive them. Though I didn’t do that for them. It was for myself. I needed to forgive them and let it all go. Otherwise, I knew it would eat away at my soul.

“Don’t,” Brody grinds out. I open my mouth to ask him what he’s saying, but he continues. “Don’t you dare give them that.”

“That?” I ask.

Brody jerks his chin. “Do not forgive them.”

He knew. Of course, he knew. It doesn’t surprise me that Brody could read me that well. Sure, we haven’t been around one another much as adults, but we were thick as thieves as kids.

He was always my protector.

He’s the only reason I came back to Nights when I ran away from Landon, even though I knew that this was likely the first place Landon would come looking for me. A thump draws my attention away from Brody, and I watch as my mother flops onto the floor, my father following shortly.

The signs are there. It happened fast, but there is no denying what’s happening. They’re overdosing. I don’t bother asking Landon what he gave them. I can only assume that whatever itwas was in a high dosage, which is why it happened as quickly as it did.

My parents die for the second time in my life.

This time it’s real, though.

I’m not sure what I expect Landon to do, but it isn’t to stay crouched and just watch as my parents die in front of us.

He’s enjoying it.

Granted, I have always known that he was sadistic, but I just didn’t realize that he was quite like this, that he actually got off on watching anyone suffer. I thought it was just during sex.

But he gets off on control—every single aspect of it.

My entire body trembles because I know that something really scary is coming next, and I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to get out of here before it happens.

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