“Wise decision,” I say. “See you around.”
I turn and cross the edge of the park, searching the crowd for the elders as I go. The sun has set, and shadows grow long around my feet as I walk. I can’t see Leah or Sara, and it’s really starting to worry me.
I wouldn’t put it past Jackson to kill Leah in cold blood. It’s not even necessary—most of the pack wouldn’t follow her—but Jackson is just that much of a bad person, he’d do it, anyway.
Before I turn up the path towards the house, I look down across the park and see Jackson and Melanie seated in a big crowd of people. They look like they’re holding court, and it makes me physically sick to see Jackson sucking up to the people he’s purposefully hurting.
How can he look at these hungry people in their threadbare clothes and promise them the world while denying them basic human rights?
I turn my back on the scene, sighing as if I’m carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. I want to see Sara, but thinking of her causes anxiety to bubble in my guts. I’ve been trying as hard as I can to show her how I feel, but now I know only a full reveal is going to prove it to her—and that might backfire in my face.
I have absolutely no choice now. I have to give her the whole truth, and if she rejects me, then at least I’ll know I’ve done everything I possibly can.
When I turn down the path beside the hall, the noise of the party fades behind me, and I can hear crickets chirping happily in the grass. A warm breeze stirs the dust, and I catch a hint of Sara’s scent.
Maybe she’s waiting for me.
My heart falls a little when I see that the house is dark. I begin to have a horrible feeling, like maybe she’s disappeared and now I’ll never see her again.
Would Jackson hurt his own daughter? My God, I never thought of this before, but he would—I’m sure of it! The bastard sold her to me, for fuck’s sake!
As I enter the house and turn on some lights, my nerves begin to sing with tension. Sara has been valuable to Jackson up to now, but the moment he thinks she’s of no use, he wouldn’t hesitate to get rid of her.
I will tear him limb from limb if he fucking touches her, and I don’t give a damn if the pack ends up seeing me as a bloodthirsty dictator.
Just when I begin to really worry, I hear her light step on the front porch. I’m so relieved that I hurry into the hall and reach out for her, but she pulls away.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I was just relieved to see you. I was worried something might have happened.”
“Oh?” she says. “Like what?”
“I’m not sure,” I reply. “But it seems like people go missing a lot in this town.”
Sara narrows her eyes a little. “Do you mean Leah?”
“I meant a lot of people, actually, but yes, her as well. Didn’t your mother disappear?”
And Talon’s father and mother…how many others disappeared or died under mysterious circumstances?
“Yes,” she answers, her bottom lip trembling even as she tries to look tough. “Some people say she ran away, and that’s what I prefer to believe. I know what it’s like being stuck here, and traveling with a baby would have been impossible. I like to think of her being out there somewhere, happy and free.”
“But what about—” I stop myself just in time, realizing that I probably shouldn’t flat-out accuse her father of murdering her mother.
Sara’s eyes go cold, and her whole body goes still as if she’s in front of a snake about to strike.
“Don’t,” she says softly. “Just don’t.”
“Would you like to come into the kitchen for a drink?” I ask, trying to change the mood. “Maybe some dessert?”
Sara nods, gulping a little as she pulls herself together. “Yes, I’d like that,” she answers.
She looks so lost and miserable, I want to put my arms around her, but I know it would be intrusive and more to comfort myself than her.
My feelings for this woman grow by the day. I can’t forget those moments I held her in my arms, body and soul laid bare before me…and I fucked it up. I needed to manipulate her father, but there were ways of doing it that wouldn’t have hurt her.
Sara follows me into the kitchen, and I pour two glasses of brandy, mixing into them a dollop of cream and adding a little chilled coffee. When I set a glass down in front of Sara, she takes a sip and makes a small sound of pleasure.
“Wow,” she mutters, licking cream off her lip. “This is amazing. You really are excellent in the kitchen.”
