It took a second for my eyes to adjust to the dark light.
Chains clanked.
Augustus and Kharon were standing in front of a dirt-covered prisoner.
Déjà vu.
I had to stop coming down here; nothing good ever came of it.
Instead of explaining why they’d lost their minds, Augustus calmly cracked his knuckles and threw a punch at the prisoner’s face.
Bones cracked.
Blood splattered.
A man moaned.
Lunging, I grabbed Augustus’s arm as he pulled it back.
“Seriously what the hell is wrong with …”
I trailed off as I took in the prisoner’s features.
“Alex.” Foster Father coughed violently, showing off a familiar row of rotting teeth. “Tell these … men to … let me go.”
The world stopped spinning.
“It’s y-y-you.”
He nodded his head eagerly.
A cold Montana wind slammed against me as I crouched in the corner of a trailer.
Foster Mother screamed.
Charlie whimpered.
I’d lied to myself; I was still a child, hiding from the man who wouldn’t stop hurting me.
I turned to my husbands.
“We did some digging.” Kharon’s eyes glittered with wrath. “We were waiting for the right time to tell you. We figured we’d decide what to do with him when—”
“He’snotyours to handle,” I cut him off.
“We know.” Augustus ground his teeth together. “That’s why we haven’t touched him. He’s a gift.”
“For you,” Kharon said, guns creaking in his hands as he squeezed them tightly. “It’s your vengeance to take.” His eye twitched. “Or not.”
Augustus took a step back, and yanked Kharon with him. “He’s all yours—it’s your decision—we support you, no matter what.”
Kharon made a sound of disagreement.
“Eitherway,” Augustus said, but his expression didn’t match his words.
“Please, Alex,” Foster Father begged.
I flinched before I could stop myself.
