Page 112 of Peasants and Kings
Well, we have that in common, I guess. What else does he know about me?
What would he do if he found out the truth? Was I doing right by following the path my mother had instructed all along? Hide, get a new identity, forget my past and never tell anyone?
Be safe, be smart, and above all, survive.
“Sterling?”
“I understand why you monitored my calls,” I said as Hadrian pulled me from my thoughts. “I’m sorry…about Finola.”
Saying her name made it feel like her ghost was between us, that she was the true reason Hadrian was so closed off from the world.
He nodded once, his expression going blank.
“Why did you tell me about her, about how you—and the boys… You didn’t have to.”
He paused and took a sip of his drink. To stall for even more time, he flipped on the gas fireplace. “I wanted to. I wanted you to know what made me the man I am now.”
“You’ve always been a protector, haven’t you? Even when you were a kid.”
“I didn’t protect Finola—and I have to live with that every day for the rest of my life. She died because of me. She died because she knew me. If I’d sent her back to Lerwick where she was safe…”
“You were in love,” I said quietly. “And she came to you because she would’ve rather taken her chances living as a runaway with you on the streets than being placed in another foster home where she wasn’t safe.”
He didn’t seem to hear me or register what I’d said.
“I killed four lads.”
“No. You killed fourrapists. You did the world a favor.”
“I slit their throats, Sterling. It was gruesome and brutal.”
“You avenged her.”
“I enjoyed killing them.”
“Did you? Or did you enjoy punishing them for taking the woman you loved? Those aren’t the same thing.”
“I took pleasure in their pain. The fear in their eyes as they pissed themselves…the look on their faces as our blades met their throats. Aye.” His gaze glittered. “I enjoyed it, because they deserved it.”
I fell silent, turning over his words, examining them. I wasn’t at all horrified by his confession, even though I should’ve been.
“You’re leaving,” he said suddenly.
“What?” I asked, shooting up from my spot on the bed.
He nodded. “As soon as the storm clears, you’re getting on a helicopter to the mainland and then my plane will fly you back to Dallas.”
“You can’t—what?”
“I’ll pay you the money from the contract. All of it.” He clenched his jaw.
“Hadrian, stop,” I whispered. “Why are you pushing me away?”
He glared. “I’m not pushing you away. I’m protecting you. Don’t you understand? An assassin broke into my home—on my private island in the middle of nowhere—and he escaped. Which means he’s still out there. He could come back to finish the job. Actually, I expect him to come back. You need to leave. You need to get as far away from me as possible.”
Leave Hadrian?
Wasn’t that the smart thing to do? But how could I do it?
