Page 151 of Inside the Sun

Summer shakes his head. "I don’t know. But he made me promise. And I intend to follow what he said."

Ragnar exhales sharply, frustrated.

"We don’t even know what happened to Moon. How good of a fortune-teller was he, if he didn’t save himself from Anzo? Or you, from being trapped here, raped and beaten?"

I have enough. I’m so tired, my head hurts. I lift my chin and say in a flat, detached voice.

"Rocco might have taken Moon for himself. He’s been collecting all of Anzo’s exes. I’m on that list too."

Summer and Ragnar fall silent.

"Well. Sorry to bring the bad news. But good luck to both of you, I hope you’ll save him too," I add, now avoiding eye contact with either of them.

"And you’re right, Ragnar. Yep, I admit it! You win, your assessment is correct, soldier. Icanbreak. Ican’tpredict what Anzo will do to me or my dad. So, here we are. You’d better start packing, and be ready in two or three weeks."

"Sun!"

Ragnar's voice cuts the silence.

Still, I keep my eyes fixed on the ground, I simply can't meet his gaze, but he steps toward me.

"I didn'tpretendI care."

Ragnar reaches his hand and tries to take mine, but I jerk away.

"Don't touch me!" I growl.

With a face like a mask, I turn away from him and walk off without looking at them. There’s no way to describe what’s going on inside me, just a crushing sense of isolation and hopelessness.

Part of me still wants to believe there’s a chance, a path leading toward something good. But the logical part sees only the dark roads ahead. And they feel a lot more real.

RAGNAR

The look on his face is burned into my mind, and so is everything I broke in him. Sun wears his heart on his sleeve, you can read him like a book. And I sure as hell can.

I know exactly how he feels right now. Everything he had, everything I gave him, everything that kept him afloat, I just took it all away today. Like the bastard I am.

So I did make my choice, didn’t I? Between being a man on a mission and being a decent human being.

And I let him down. I let myself down too.

Again, I spend Saturday on my bike. But my head’s a mess, the noise in it is so loud, I can’t string a single clear thought. Can’t even begin to put myself back together.

Sunday comes, and I’m still not done with the road.

I get back on the bike and take off again, riding for hours, trying to shake off the storm inside. But it’s not working this time either.

I push the throttle, the wind picks up. I hit the highway, miles blur under my wheels, rage building in my chest, bigger than I’ve ever felt. A deep, blinding fury. I’ve never felt this kind of intensity before. Boundless. Consuming.

Why can’t I convince myself there’s another way out of this mess?

Every plan that forms in my head, I tear it down. Doubt it. Destroy it. Even Summer’s idea. I turned it down the moment he said it.

But what if there was actually a chance in it?

I shut my heart off. Switched to pure logic. Forgot that the heart has its own kind of power. It can drive you to make wild, irrational choices, ones that defy reason but still somehow might work.

Isn’t the world changed by people whodare? Who take the leap no one else will?

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