Page 112 of Sadistic

"We should go back to the clubhouse," Dalla says gently.

I nod, too emotionally exhausted to argue.

As she drives, I stare out the window at the familiar streets of Jacksonville.

Tomorrow I'm supposed to marry Doran Volkolv.

Take his name, join his world, accept his protection and control.

But now I have Bembe Reyes threatening my family because of Doran's pride.

I have Njal offering to solve everything by killing Doran and Bembe, clearly in the middle of a manic episode.

I have a fiancé who says he wants a partner but acts like I'm property.

And I have less than twenty-four hours to decide if I can live with any of it.

My phone rings again.

This time it's Greer. "Revna, darling. I heard there was an incident."

"Did Doran tell you?—"

"Mikhail, actually. Men are useless at explaining emotional situations." Her voice is gentle. "Are you all right?"

"No," I admit. "I'm not."

"Would you like to talk? Woman to woman, no agenda?"

I think about it.

Greer has been nothing but kind to me, and maybe she can offer perspective.

"Tomorrow?" I offer. "If there is a tomorrow."

"There's always a tomorrow, darling. The question is what we choose to do with it." She pauses. "For what it's worth, I've never seen my son like this. He's... struggling. With wanting to protect you and knowing he's pushed you away."

"He should have thought of that before making decisions without me."

"Yes," she agrees simply. "He should have. The question now is whether you can forgive him for being who he is while he learns to be who you need."

"What if he can't learn? What if this is just who he is?"

"Then you have to decide if who he is works for who you are." She sighs. "I won't lie to you, darling. This life is hard. The constant danger, the violence always lurking at the edges, the decisions made in shadows. But it can also be... extraordinary. If you have the right partner."

"Is Doran the right partner?"

"Only you can answer that. But I will say this—my son has been alone his whole life, even surrounded by people. You're the first person I've seen him actually need. Not want, not desire, but need. That's either the best foundation for a marriage or the worst."

After she hangs up, I sit with her words.

Can I forgive him for being who he is? And more importantly, do I want to?

We pull into the clubhouse parking lot.

My dad's bike is there now, along with several others.

Kirkjamust have let out. I see the curtain twitch—Mom watching for us.

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