Page 67 of Broken Truths

Honestly, I like the idea of Tahiti. I loved the West Coast lifestyle. No snow. No ice. No freaking jackets that feel like a sauna when you’re blasting the heat in the car.

I unzip my jacket, giving me a little breathing room and turn down the heat as I approach the first stop sign into town. A sleek black car pulls up behind me and gives me a honk. I groan, pressing on the gas a little too hard to get through the stop sign.

The small town is a lot busier than the country. There are already cars parked in front of businesses and people are starting to go about their day.

I pull into an angled parking space and cut the engine. Peering in through the windows of the café, I hope I don’t see anyone I know. I just want to get in and get out and return to Oliver’s place so we can start planning our attack now that everyone is on board.

If we don’t, this could truly go on forever, and I’m ready to start putting the past behind me.

A man walks in front of my car while holding his little girl’s hand. The scene punches a hole in my chest. Dee’s gone. So is Dad. No matter what I feel about my mom right now, we should probably talk things through. After all, I’m not actually mad about marrying Leo, but I am mad that I didn’t get to have a say.

Shit.Dee must’ve felt like this all the time. She’d been destined for Keegan since almost day one. I can’t imagine having that over my head for twenty years. They were always on and off, but I don’t even think she dated anyone else seriously.

But Dee and I are definitely not the same person. She was a much better one than me.

I throw the door open and reach back to grab my purse. The ice makes my shoe skid a little as I get out, and I have to catch my footing before putting all my weight on it. A gust of frosty air throws my jacket open, and I yank it around me and tuck my head, knowing I only have to make it a few feet to the café door before I’ll be wanting to open it again.

The father and daughter disappear around the corner as I tug on the door handle, the bell chiming my arrival. There’s a bit of a line inside, so I wait my turn. After about five minutes, I check the clock on the wall and start tapping my foot.

Shit. I didn’t even bring my phone with me, so the guys are going to be pissed when I get back.

Finally, I step up to the counter, giving the barista a big smile before launching into my order. A guy behind me groans, but it only makes me smile wider.

I waited too, buddy.

I keep checking the clock as I wait for the drinks. Another five minutes has passed. Eventually, a young man comes over with a drink carrier, and I take that and my bag of goodies and leave.

Outside, the cold air seems to hit me in the face again like a whip, but I hunker down and walk as fast as I can to the car. I throw the bag in the passenger seat and then move it over to set the drink carrier down before getting in myself.

Closing the door, I immediately start the car and blast the heat again. I peer into my rearview mirror to back up and freeze.

Someone’s in the back seat wearing a black hoodie over black jeans with black pantyhose pulled down over his face. I immediately reach for the door handle, but he flies forward. I stop when cold metal touches my temple.

“Do you know what this is?” a gruff voice asks.

My heart speeds up, and I close my eyes, my stomach roiling. It doesn’t take a scientist to figure out he’s got a gun to my head. “Yes.”

“Then believe me when I say that if you try to escape, I’ll blow your brains out right here. Understand?”

I squeeze the door handle, wondering what the possibility is that I could just run and he wouldn’t do anything. There are people in the café. There are people on the street.

But then I remember that I’m only one of two Astors left. My sister? Dead. My father? Dead. Both murdered. Do I really want to press my luck?

I swallow the thickness in my throat, and the areas behind my eyes heat. My mind flashes to the three men back at the house.

If something happens to me, they’ll be lost. Oliver has already said as much. Alaric needs to believe in something after he’s been let down by so many people. And Leo? Leo can’t take another awful thing happening to him.

And neither can I.

“I-I believe you,” I tell him, nerves rattling me. I start to shake. The urge to throw up squeezes my insides, but I tamp it down as best I can. This is not the time to wither.

“Let go of the handle,” he instructs.

I do as he says, then peer in the rearview mirror, trying to figure out who he is. But it’s pointless. Except for some of the transparency from the pantyhose, I see nothing but a black blob. He’s white. That’s all I got.

“Now, grab the steering wheel and back up. Head toward Carnegie. You know where Carnegie is, right?”

I do as he says. “Who are you?”

---