Page 34 of Ricochet
My father wasa cruel and merciless man, but he was still my father. There was no love nor affection between the two of us, but there was something else. Respect and protection. He kept his promise and I kept mine. Everything I ever wanted was given to me, but there was a price.
I belonged to the Syndicate, and they belonged to me.
They taught me how to fight, how to survive, but nothing could ever prepare me for my death. I knew it was coming. That was why I was here, after all.
None of us moved as their eyes raked over my body, disgust rolling through me. These men were once my family, but I’ve learned the hard way that loyalty goes only so far. Trust is a fickle thing. It takes you years to earn it, and only seconds to lose it. They lost mine, and I lost theirs, and even if a thousand years passed, I knew we were never going back to the way we used to be before...
Before lies and deceit clouded our minds. Before they decided to condemn me, trusting the wrong people. You would think that after so many years of knowing each other, they would at least ask for my version of the story. But they never did.
Shoot first, and then ask questions. That’s what Kieran told me the first time we were training together. When the black hole my father threw me into started swallowing me whole, he showed me light.
Lux Tenebris.
Light in Darkness.
That was what Kieran once was for me, but not anymore.
There were nights when I summoned him in my dreams, living the fantasy where he didn’t hate me, and I didn’t hate him. There were days when I could almost feel his lips on mine. The days when I was tired of running, tired of hiding, he was the first person I thought of. The days when I didn’t dream of destroying everything he loved, as he had destroyed me. During those days, during those nights, I still loved him. I allowed myself to feel us. To remember what we used to be.
But seeing him now, seeing the hatred seeping from every pore of his body, I knew what it was and what it always would be.
A fantasy.
Cillian still stood only inches from me, his body rigid, waiting for me to run. But I wasn’t going to, not this time. Once again, they didn’t know everything. They didn’t know that everything they ever believed in was a lie.
They were so consumed by their grief, by their blind trust, that they never saw what was right in front of their noses. They didn’t know that they were keeping serpents in their gardens.
Some secrets are easy burdens, mine weren’t. I put other people’s safety before mine, thinking they would do the same. Papa always warned me to think with my head and not with my heart, but I always thought my heart was what made me human.
I was wrong, and it ultimately led to my downfall. It made me weak.
They wanted me to beg, to crawl in front of them, I could see it in their eyes. Except, I wasn’t going to do that.
My father didn’t raise a coward. A psychotic bitch, yes, but definitely not a coward. They were playing my game this time, and they weren’t the puppet masters. I was.
“It took you boys long enough to find me.” I smirked. “What’s it been, four years already?”
Our hearts were our enemies. Unbeknownst to us, they’d lead to our downfall and this moment. Mine. theirs, my brother’s. Mine, because I trusted too much. Theirs because they loved too much, and when that love broke down, they were left with nothing but hatred.
My brother’s, because he wanted too much. He craved what wasn’t his to crave, and I paid the price.
Tristan started walking toward me, but Kieran stopped him, shaking his head, that cold expression still on his face. If I closed my eyes, I could still see his smile. I could still see the boy he used to be; the boy this world decided to destroy.
They were blocking the only exit from the room, and I had no doubt in my mind that this estate was swarming with their bodyguards. I could take on two of them, but not Kieran and not the rest of their team. That asshole knew me too well.
I could feel the heat at my back from the fire dancing inside the fireplace. If Cillian took another step, I would end up like a roasted human marshmallow. Now that was an idea.
Human marshmallows.
No, thank you. Interestingly, they didn’t attack. At least not yet. Oh, they thought scaring me would work this time around, but I wasn’t the girl they used to know. Maybe I should give it to them. Show them my fear, the tremble in my chin, the pleading in my eyes.
These fucking psychopaths wanted me broken. But didn’t they know that it was already too late? I was beyond repair, and breaking me again simply wouldn’t work. Broken things couldn’t be broken again. Death wasn’t something I feared anymore. Some days, it felt more like an old friend.
So whatever they had prepared for me, I couldn’t wait to see it. I just hoped they would get fucking creative for once.
My hand brushed against a cold item, and I looked down noticing the fire iron. Bingo. I gripped the cold handle, and pulled it in front of me, almost grazing Cillian’s chest. Aww, would you look at that surprised look on his face? He probably thought I was going to attack him already, but I wanted to enjoy the show. Men were always so predictable.
They always needed to feel powerful. Invincible. Unbreakable.
