Page 59 of Worth the Ruin
“So…you’re telling me that you were some super secret government agent that went on crazy covert missions and was essentially…what? A spy?”
“Unofficially, yep.”
“So the ace shooting skills, throwing that knife within an inch of my face without hesitation and nailing that Bloody dead on,all the security knowledge, youprofilingme…Fuck, it makes so much sense.” He scrubs a hand over his jaw, his stubble so thick after a week of not shaving that it’s graduated to a beard and stache. It looks really damn good.
I shrug and he shakes his head, running a hand through his hair.
“All that time, you could have taken me out so fucking easily.” It isn’t a question.
“Yep.” No reason to lie.
“Why didn’t you?”
“At first it was because I couldn’t risk Jonah and the others. I assumed if I took you out, Jett would just retaliate even harder—and I didn’t want to take a chance on him becoming the new leader. You were the lesser of two evils.” I smile at him and he bobs his head, acknowledging that that was, in fact, the case. “But then…well, I started to like you. Even when I was trying to hate you, I couldn’t. And I didn’t want to kill you anymore.”
“Jesus,” he breathes. “Thanks for that, by the way.” I laugh lightly and he grins. “That’s pretty fucking cool, you know that, right?”
“I’m well aware of how cool I am.” Our gazes lock, amusement dancing in his eyes, and the room suddenly feels very small and very hot. I clear my throat. “We should, uh, probably hit the hay.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
Neither of us move though, and after a long moment, I finally ask, “Kevin’s son. Why did you kill him? Was it really just an example killing?”
He tenses, clearly caught off guard by the question, and for a second I’m not sure if he’s going to answer. I’m pretty certain there’s more to it than that—there always is with him. Everything is always calculated, always with a purpose—but I’m not sure what.
“His son killed two women at Greenbrier and four more at The Farm.”
“What?!” I gasp, and Traeger nods.
“Butchered more like. He hid it well, at least at first. The first woman’s death at the farm was put down as a machinery accident out in the field. It tracked with how…mangled her body was when it was found.” I fight back bile and rage, my hands clenching into fists. “The second woman was thought to have been attacked by Bloodies, and the third just disappeared—but when the reports showed that Brad had been the last person seen with each of the women, I started watching him closely. He went to Greenbrier to help out with some mechanical issues they were having and in the time he was there, two women went missing. No one else really saw the connection since they didn’t know about the girls out at The Farm, but I knew. I fuckingknew. I…caught him in the act on the fourth woman back at The Farm. It was like something out of a horror movie, Melody, just sick, twisted shit. He confessed then, but it wasn’t like he was begging for his life. No, he wasgloating, like he was proud of everything he’d done.” He curls his lip in disgust and then shakes himself, pulling his mind from that terrible memory.
“But you didn’t tell anyone?”
He shakes his head. “No. If it happened now, I probably would, but at the time, everyone needed to buy into the Traeger-is-a-psycho-dictator bit. Different times, different situations, call for different narratives.”
“Like with Jett,” I say, realizing the difference between the two situations. With Brad, Traeger needed everyone to think he killed anyone who didn’t obey him and fall in line, he needed that blood to paint a picture of fear to help maintain order among the settlements. With Jett…
Traeger finishes my silent train of thought. “With Jett, it showed everyone that certain things willnotbe tolerated, thatthe rules apply to everyone and that no one is above them, even those high up in my command. Things have shifted from when we were first trying to wrangle all of Haven, weed out the bad apples and make it somewhere that people could finally start living instead of surviving. So now, I don’t need them to cower in fear at the mention of my name. Now, I need them to see that everyone is safe within Haven, that no one is above the laws.” He runs his hands through his hair and lets out a long slow exhale before meeting my eyes.
“I had to do things in the beginning that still make me sick to think about. I have blood on my hands that will never, ever wash away, but they were things thathadto be done to keep everyone safe. I didn’t want to be the leader, but it just…happened. I did bad things to stop worse ones from happening. I killed bad people to stop them from killing innocent ones. It isn’t an excuse; it’s just the facts. People started following me, looking to me for guidance and protection. They needed a safe place, theydeserveda safe place. So, I gave them one. I found a way. I did what had to be done. I don’t regret it, but it wasn’t something that was easy and it isn’t something that doesn’t weigh on me every fucking day.”
Something surges up in my chest then, hot and fast and undeniable: Respect. Empathy. Maybe something else.
He glances up at me from beneath his lashes, as if he isn’t sure he wants to see my reaction.
“Let’s go to bed,” I whisper. His shoulders slump, as if he’s failed, as if he’s broken the first few steps of the bridge we’re building back towards each other. He nods and shifts to move off of the mattress, but I grab his forearm. He stiffens, like his entire body has been electrified.
“The floor can’t be comfortable. We can share the mattress.” His brows wing upward but I only roll my eyes and start moving the cards out of the way. He puts another piece of wood on thefire and then climbs beneath the covers on the other side of the mattress.
“Don’t read anything into it,” I say again, fighting to keep my lips from curling into a grin.
I can hear the smile in his voice when he replies.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
TRAEGER
