Page 8 of Ruthless Deliverance

“Stop. Because now you’re the one who’s lying.”

“Creed Kincaid, don’t you dare take that tone with me. You want me to tell you it sucks? Well, I will. It fucking sucks that Ethan’s gone. But his death is not on you. I know it. Your father knows it. And so do your aunt and uncle.”

I’m not so sure who my aunt and uncle truly blame, but every time I look at my father, I feel the warranted accusation from him. He knows I’m responsible for killing his brother’s son. My cousin, who was my best friend and the closest thing to a brother I ever had. And that’s why I understand my father’s anger. I hurt his brother and took away his son. I know what I would’ve done to someone who caused Ethan pain. Only I ended up not being able to protect him because I was the one who’d done the damage. And it was too late to save him once I realized the mistake. Once the car crashed.

Mom saying my name brings me out of the horrible nightmare from that night, but the tightness in my shoulder is still there. And all it does is piss me off. Ethan lost his life. And I walked away with only a fractured shoulder.

She places a hand on my shoulder as I look to her. “You can’t change what happened. I know that doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

“It always hurts,” I admit aloud for the first time. And I’m not talking about the dull ache in my shoulder. It’s the emptiness.

“I’d like to say it’ll get better, but I don’t believe the hurt ever goes away. It’s always there. We just learn how to go on without the person. We adjust to a new normal without them in our life.”

“I don’t want a new normal.”

“Me either.” Her arms move around me, wrapping me in a hug that I can’t bring myself to return. Because if she knew everything I’ve done, she wouldn’t be able to stomach looking at me much less trying to ease my guilty conscience.

8

DANI

The car comes to a gradual stop in the school parking lot. From the far side of the lot, I have a clear view of the building that reminds me more of an evil king’s dungeon. And currently, all the other prisoners are voluntarily walking in to begin the second day of school. How is it only the second day? The past twenty-four hours dragged on for what felt like years. And I have a feeling time will come to an even slower crawl when I step back into the dungeon.

Clutching the steering wheel, my forehead drops to the smooth leather as I take in a deep breath. The new-car smell reminds me that I’m not in my car. It’s not like mine is old, but it’s not anything compared to this shiny one I’ll be driving to keep up appearances. At first, I was excited to drive it. Now I just want my regular one back. My regular life too.

Since laying low didn’t exactly work out yesterday, there’s no reason I can’t hit the ground running today and try to get some intel. Because the sooner I do, the sooner I can go back to my reality. Until then, I’m stuck in this ridiculously stiff uniform and surreal fantasy world. My current day-to-day is anything but a fairy tale.

Giving my skirt a good tug down, I push the door open, and step out of the vehicle. I only make it a few feet before I hear someone shout my name.

An unfamiliar guy in a matching ensemble jogs up to me. “Ready for day two?”

Am I supposed to know him? There’s something familiar about him, but yesterday was such a blur—a noisy circus, really—I have to shuffle through my mind to place him.

He grabs the door from the student who walks ahead of us and gestures for me to enter. “After you, milady.”

I keep a watch on him out of the corner of my eye as I step into the building. Even if I weren’t here under a false identity, this place and the people in it would still have me on edge. Not that I trust people in my real life either.

He falls into step beside me, chatting about something, but I can’t focus because I’m still trying to figure out how I should know him. “Who are you?” And why are you being so nice?

His smile stretches across his face. “Not surprised you don’t remember, being that you were performing karate yesterday. Great job by the way.” He holds out his knuckles as I keep my arms at my side. Once he realizes I’m actively leaving him hanging, he bumps his own knuckles together and laughs at the gesture. “We’re in a few of the same classes, and I knew as soon as you knocked that fucker in the nose, we’d be good friends. I’m Keith.”

Well, obviously we have one thing in common. We both despise Beau. But I remain quiet and listen to his ramblings as we walk into the classroom where we both apparently have first period.

“Look who’s on time today,” Keith announces as he pats my shoulder, waving to Mr. Garbo, who looks even less happy to see me than he had yesterday. Yeah. I learned long ago you can’t win with some people no matter what you do, and I’m definitely slotting Mr. Garbo into that category.

As I sit in the same desk from yesterday, Keith takes a seat in front of me. Was he in front of me yesterday? Damn it. I’m way off my game. Usually, I’m much better at being aware of my surroundings. And I need to get my head in the game before I’m blindsided by something simple or immaterial to the case, like getting expelled for hitting a douchebag in the nose (even if it was merited).

The warning bell chimes as a few more students make their way into the classroom, including that moron and his buddy. Both are watching me, but it’s Beau who I take a long glimpse at. And as much as I try to resist, I fail miserably to hide the slight smile that peeks on my lips at the sight of the damage.

Keith turns in his desk to face me, his back to the two idiots who still have their attention aimed my way. “Remind me to not get on your bad side.”

“I’m sure you won’t,” I say, hoping to remain neutral with as many people as possible.

Including Luna, who lets out a laugh as she looks to Keith. “I give it two days, three tops, and I hope I’m there to see her kick your ass too.”

“Nah. My money is on you pissing her off first.” Keith goes into a list of all the reasons he believes Luna will get decked first as she responds to each with his faults. It’s a sarcastic yet playful back-and-forth, but my plan is to not hit either of them, or anyone else for that matter.

“Y’all are good. I don’t go around punching people on a regular basis.”