“My father killed both of them,” I said. “Found out it was all a setup to bring our family down. To ruin Yuna’s value so she wouldn’t be married off to align us with another wealthy family.”
Ares stared at the wall like he was watching something play out in his head.
“She was raised to be a wife,” I finished. “And now she’s on the streets.”
“This is a lot,” he said.
I exhaled hard. “Bro, I have to save my sister. And I’m gonna need your help.”
Ares finally sighed. Long. Heavy. “What you need me to do?”
I leaned forward. “Don’t turn your back on her. I know she can get right. This isn’t her. But I’m about to go grab her off the streets in Hollywood. My satellite been showing her sitting in a fuckin’ alley. Just come with me. Stand back while I get her. She doesn’t know anything about you yet. And she’s terrified of men who look like us. She been through too much in the last four years.”
He nodded slowly.
“Alright,” he said. “Let’s go.”
And just like that, everything changed.
CHAPTER 16
Yuna Wells-Laveau
“Running From Myself.”
Ihad been walking all day. Not because I had somewhere to go, but because stopping meant thinking. And thinking always got loud. The city felt like it was breathing down my neck, every sound too sharp, every shadow stretching too long. I stayed moving so the noise in my head would stay behind me.
I didn’t have a home anymore.
I had an old apartment building off a street nobody paid attention to. I didn’t live there anymore, not since the eviction notice got taped to the door like a warning sign. But behind it, in the alley, there was a spot that stayed dry. Cracked concrete, a broken crate, and a wall that blocked the wind. It wasn’t safe, but it was familiar.
Familiarity counted for something.
My phone buzzed in my hand, and I almost dropped it. I stared at the screen.
Mom.
I hadn’t spoken to her in weeks. Months maybe. Time didn’t move right for me anymore.
I answered anyway.
“Yuna,” she said. Her voice sounded tight. “Where are you? How are you?”
“I’m fine,” I said automatically.
“You’re not fine. I need you to come home and get help. Your father did all he could to protect you from your abuser. He’s gone.”
I laughed. Not because it was funny, but because it was absurd. Home. Like that word still meant something we shared.
“I’m not going back,” I said. “You know that.”
“You can’t keep living like this,” she said. “Things have to change.”
I stopped walking and leaned against the side of a closed storefront. My legs were tired. My bones felt hollow.
“Change into what?” I asked. “Someone you’re not ashamed of?”
She went quiet for a second. That was answer enough.
