Page 178 of Adam
Adam’s eyes flick. “Unless he …”
Grayson frowns. “He what?”
Adam scoffs. “Jesus Christ.”
“What is it, Adam?” I ask.
He looks at me, jaw tight. “He wanted to sell you, and he’s been planning it since you were born.” The veins on his neck pop. “You don’t track someone you give a shit about. You track something you can’t afford to lose.”
His voice drops. “If you ran, he’d know. If someone grabbed you, he’d know. If it was time to cash in, he’d fucking know.” He shakes his head once. “That was keeping tabs on his investment.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, my voice barely steady.
He grabs my arms and spins me around. His fingers find the scar on my shoulder blade and trace it slowly.
“When did this happen?” he demands.
My stomach tightens. I shake my head. “I don’t know. I’ve had it for as long as I can remember.”
His hand stills, and the pressure of his fingers feels heavier. “How did you get it?”
I swallow. The answer comes too easily, which scares me more than not having one. “I don’t know.”
Silence stretches. My skin prickles under his touch—not because of where he’s holding me, but because I realize something is missing. Memories should leave marks. This one didn’t.
He pulls the knife from the holster strapped to his thigh and turns me to face him.
“You need to hold still.”
My breath stutters. How could … My own father …
“How could he …?” My voice comes out thin.
“Because he’s fucked in the head,” Adam spits, his eyes darkening.
I hesitate, my eyes landing on each one of them. I swallow.
“Are you sure about it?” I ask, even though my chest already feels tight.
Adam’s jaw clenches. The knife doesn’t lower.
“No.”
Grayson steps forward, voice steady. “I’ll do it.”
Adam snaps his head up. “Get the fuck away from her. All of you!” He hesitates, turning his eyes to the scar. “If I’m right … this is the only fucked way to know.”
My breathing goes shallow, my pulse hammering so hard it makes me dizzy. It’s not the pain I’m bracing for. Pain is simple.
I’m afraid of what he’ll find.
Because if there’s something inside me, something my father cut into me to leave behind, then I was always a part of his sick plan.
And that means he’s far more fucked up than I ever let myself believe.
“Do it,” I say bluntly.
“Your girl has balls,” Cain mutters dryly.
