Why was I grieving for a man destined to kill me?
Why was I so determined to return to a household of murderers?
Why did I panic every time nausea took me hostage?
I know why.
Because you’re more in love than afraid.
Because you can’t stand the way Tex looks at you.
And because you’re afraid you might be pregnant...
My father tore apart my heart every damn second we were together.
We couldn’t talk anymore—not about trivial things or important things. Our awkward conversations were stilted and fake. He couldn’t take his eyes off me, even though they were exhausted and ringed with shadows as deep as darkness itself. He shrunk beneath a lifetime of regret over me, over my mother.
And I hated I couldn’t console him.
Why hadn’t he gone after her?
Why had he let them come for me?
Those questions were never voiced, but I knew he felt them, lashing the air with contamination.
My family were adrift, and I had no clue how to fix it.
I dug my tattooed fingertips into my eyes, banishing the thoughts of my father and pressing back the tears that never seemed to leave.
I huffed, the silence rejecting any noise and swallowing my sadness. I couldn’t stomach the quietness—the lifeless darkness.
I wassafehere.
No one to hurt me, fuck me, or transform my soul with wings.
I am safe here.
And I didn’t know how to cope with that anymore.
My ruby-encrusted dirk lay beside me on the silver and lace bedspread. It belonged to the Hawks...yet it was the only thing I’d brought with me. I’d left everything at Hawksridge, including my phone. My father had banned me from getting another—he blamed the press hounding us for constant interviews, but I knew the real reason.
He wanted me to be cut off, untouchable.
But it hadn’t stopped me from commandeering a new one, and, like the love-struck moron I was, I knew every digit of Kite’s number perfectly.
Countless times, I messaged him.
But not once did he reply.
I miss you.
I curse you.
I love you.
He left me empty and all alone.
Chapter Twelve
