Page 18 of Wilder's Promise
"It's not. He's no saint, none of us are, but he tries to do right in a world gone wrong." He leans forward, elbows on his knees. "The trafficking ring... he didn't have to get involved. Could have looked the other way like everyone else. But once he knew what was happening, he couldn't let it stand."
I try to reconcile this image with the father I've known, or thought I knew. The pieces don't quite fit.
"Your turn," Wilder says, interrupting my thoughts. "Fair exchange. Tell me something true about Emma Kane that I wouldn't guess."
The question catches me off guard. "Like what?"
"Like why criminal forensics? Why chase a career that puts you directly at odds with your father's world?"
It's a perceptive question, cutting closer to the bone than I expected. I consider deflecting, but something about the honesty of this strange night makes me want to offer truth in return.
"When I was nearly seventeen, my friend Lily disappeared," I say, the memory still sharp despite the years. "Just vanished on her way home from school. The police didn't do much. She was a troubled kid, they assumed she ran away."
Wilder watches me intently, giving me his full attention.
"Three weeks later, they found her body in the woods outside town." My voice remains steady through years of practice. "She'd been murdered, left there like garbage. The case was never solved."
"I'm sorry," he says simply.
"I couldn't stop thinking about how she was just... forgotten. How the system failed her because she wasn't the right kind of victim." I wrap my arms around myself against the evening chill. "I decided then that I would be the one who fought for peoplelike Lily. Who made sure the evidence told their stories when they couldn't."
"So you became the justice your friend never got."
"I'm trying to." I look up at the stars beginning to appear in the darkening sky. "Maybe it's not so different from what my father does. Different methods, same goal. Justice for those who can't get it through proper channels."
"Your father would be proud if he knew."
"He does know. I told him when I declared my major." I smile ruefully. "He sent me a card. 'Congratulations on choosing a career that might get me arrested someday.' His idea of a joke, I guess."
Wilder laughs softly. "That sounds like him."
In the distance, I can hear the sounds of the club preparing for tonight's mission: voices calling, engines revving, the metallic click of weapons being checked.
"Are you scared?" I ask suddenly. "About staying behind? About what might happen if they fail?"
"Not scared," he says after a moment. "Concerned. Prepared. There's a difference."
"What's the difference?"
"Fear paralyzes. Concern motivates."
"That sounds like something my father would say."
"He's a wise man." Wilder shifts, wincing slightly as he adjusts his injured arm. "But to answer your question honestly. Yes, I'm worried about my brothers. And I'm worried about keeping you and Evelyn safe if things go wrong."
"Do you think they will? Go wrong, I mean."
He considers this, his expression grave. "Your father is the best tactician I know. Ghost is a ruthless fighter. Blade has military training. Ace and Viper are incredible as well. They have the advantage of surprise." He pauses. "But Charles has numbers and resources. So yeah, there's a real chance this ends badly."
I appreciate the honesty, even as it sends a chill through me. "And if it does?"
"If it comes to that, we run." His eyes meet mine, serious and intent. "Far and fast. Somewhere Charles and his men can't find us."
"Just like that? Leave everything behind?"
"Just like that." He says it with such certainty. "Alive and hidden is better than dead and avenged."
The reality of our situation hits me anew. Twenty-four hours ago, I was in my dorm room studying for finals. Now I'm discussing escape plans with a man I barely know, while my estranged father prepares for what amounts to a military strike against other criminals.
