One
HOPE
Silence lays around me like a thick blanket, almost suffocating. I see them move; I feel their breaths but hearno sounds. Nothing other than the sharp ringing in my ear as I stare at his bloodshot eyes, the filthy grin on his destroyed face.
One move. One squeeze and it’s done. A sharp intake of breath to force the tremble to stop and I squeeze. I squeeze my finger around the trigger with all I have, and my scream replaces the sharp ringing. Sounds rush back as I keep pulling, keep shooting until no bullets leave the barrel.
A big strong hand covers my own and pries the empty gun from my cold fingers.
His voice is a gentle whisper. “Good girl.”
I blink away the memory as I stare out of the window. I should feel something, right? Anger, remorse, regret?
I scoff at the thought. Regret will never be one of the emotions I’ll feel when it comes to killing my dad.
He deserved it, and I wish I could hurt him even more, as his death was a kindness he didn’t deserve. He deserved to suffer every day, like I did and still am.
But can you make a true monster suffer?
I flinch as Dimitri nudges my shoulder. “You should eat something, sweetheart,” he says, a soft smile on his lips and a kindness in his eyes I’ve never seen before.
“What are you doing?” I ask the first thing that comes to mind.
“Getting you to eat something,” he says with a raised brow.
“I get that, but why are you being… different?” I note, and his eyes fall to the ground.
“What do you want me to be then?” he mutters and pulls my fluffy blue robe aside to skim his fingers over the scars on my chest. My breath hitches in the back of my throat. “Do you want me to be the guy who did that to you?”
My brows crease and I lean back so his touch leaves my skin. “Never mind,” I mumble and grab the plate with the ham sandwich.
“Look at me,” he says, his voice harsher than before but the kindness in his eyes remains. The reminder of how weak and fragile I am.
He sighs as if he heard my thoughts. “I don’t know what to do either, Hope. But I do know, I’m not leaving, never. So, get used to this side of me, and remember it when I’m being… my usualfantasticself.” He rolls his eyes and turns away from me. Just in time so he doesn’t see the slight smile on my cracked lips.
That was better.
I eat the sandwich with small, careful bites. Every time my jaw closes, pain shoots down my neck but I have to finish it. Dimitri even remembered to cut the crusts off. I wonder if he thinks doing small, gentle things will make me whole, or if it’s a penance, a way to absolve himself of what he didn’t stop, what he let happen.
I wonder if it even matters.
I keep my eyes trained on the street below. Waiting, watching.
The street is empty except for a pair of small birds pecking at the ground. I stare past them, watching my own reflection, seeing how the dark circles under my eyes have started to look like bruises. I raise my hand and press a fingertip against the glass, just to see if I can hide myself behind it, and then I notice them, two shadows.
Knox walks with his head down, hands jammed in his pockets, jaw clenched, eyes flicking everywhere. Jax, beside him, walks like he’s daring the world to try something.
I swallow the last of the sandwich and call over my shoulder, “They’re home.”
Home… is this my home now. With them?
Dimitri doesn’t answer. I know he’s listening, waiting for me to say more, but I won’t give him that. Instead, I watch as Jax stops and looks straight up at the window. He sees me watching, and for a second, his expression almost seems soft. He lifts ahand in a loose wave, but I don’t move. I just watch him, letting him see that I don’t have to respond, that I don’t owe him anything. Even though I do.
I hear the small click of ceramic as Dimitri puts his mug down, then the soft hiss of his shoes as he comes up beside me. He looks over my head, out at the lot.
“They weren’t supposed to be back till tomorrow.”
“Plans change,” I mumble.
