Page 55 of Violent Skies

“The best I could do was make sure he never let you down, so I did what I was told, I helped him and without question until the day he tried—” Riggs cuts himself off. “Until the day he died.”

“And now?” I ask. He didn’t kill Koa. It wasn’t him.

“Now I can’t stop thinking about how you taste,” he says without hesitation. “The way you feel, the curve of your smile against my lips…” Riggs stops, his jaw ticking uncomfortably as he holds back. “No more secrets.”

“Do you promise?” The hope is violent. It courses around under my skin and I can feel myself leaning into his grasp, needing all the same things he does. It’s been less than twenty-four hours, and yet all I want is the reminder of how he feels when he’s completely lost in me.

“With my life.” He presses his forehead to mine and my hands find his chest, raking up and over just to feel the way he breathes shallowly, his heart racing beneath all that ink. I swallow. This is the edge. The place where truth either saves us or ruins what’s left.

“Then tell me,” I whisper, holding his gaze. “Tell me what happened that night?”

2023

“Koa slow down!” I follow him out of the garage into the rain as he stomps around, tossing shit into the trunk of the Subaru. “What are you doing?” I holler over the downpour.

“There’s a job,” he says, but doesn’t stop moving. He brushes past me back into the warmth. “It has to get done tonight or we lose half a million.”

“In this?” Murphy is the first to whine, but the quickest to shut his mouth when Koa breaks his rampage to glare at him.

“The roads will be havoc, Koa…” I try to salvage the conversation, bring him back to explaining what the hell is going on. “It’s coming down in sheets, we can barely see a car ahead through it.” I list the dangers of what he’s proposing.

A job we know nothing about. A route we’ve never driven. In the middle of a drought-ending thunderstorm that could last for days. It’s suicide.

“We’ll be driving blind,” Birdie’s bold enough to say.

“Sorry. I didn’t know I was running with amateurs,” Koa snaps at her and Birdie steps forward. They’d never actually fight, Koa loves her too much to start shit, but the tone in his voice… It doesn’t sound like him. He’s… angry, scattered. Gone is the charming, witty leader we know and follow blindly. “Get in the car.” He stares her down and her lips part to argue, but she backs down and stomps to the driver’s side as Rafe jogs to the passenger side.

“Murphy get the truck,” he barks.

“I never drive—”

“Get the truck or fuck off,” Koa snaps and I feel my blood start to boil. “Do you have something to say, Riggs?” he asks and I shake my head, even if I know that following through with this is a death wish, I’m not going to let them go into it without me.

His eyes follow mine, his chest squared and ready for a fight.

He’s hiding something and it’s going to get us all killed. He wanders upstairs and I hear him rifling through the drawers as I panic. I run both hands through my hair, turning to assess my siblings in their positions. Stop it. Don’t do this. Don’t let him do this. I can hear her in my head, screaming at me to prevent the worst from happening.

Koa’s shoulder slams into mine, knocking me from the tornado of emotions and thoughts as he storms toward the car. I follow his path with a determined pace, slamming my palm against the driver’s door as he opens it.

“We’re not doing this until you tell us what’s going on!” I growl, stopping him from opening the door as he tries again.

“That’s cute.” Koa puffs up. “You want to play leader Riggs? After all this time? What a big boy.” He snarls with a fucking grin on his face. “You want their lives in your hands? Their blood?” His tone shifts, dropping into something quiet and vicious, his eyes flickering over my face. His pupils are blown wide, his jaw so tight I can feel him grinding his teeth.

“Are you threatening me?” I lower my voice and Koa laughs, wickedly.

“Never,” he flips. “We’re family.”

“Family doesn’t have secrets,” I push.

“That’s exactly who keeps secrets.” The smile on his face falters, casting downward as fast as his mood swings. “Right?” His head tilts to the side and his expression turns to ice as his palm opens.

A crumpled foil wrapper.

“You two didn’t think I would notice your little game?” he whispers. “That I’m too stupid to see it? What’s going on?”

“There’s nothing going on…” I shake my head, trying to take it from him.

“Now who’s keeping secrets?” he asks. “They’re all over my house, given to my wife…” He picks it apart until it’s flat. The scribble writing I put on the inside of each one is smudged and faded. You’re brave. I remember that one; it’s from the day she applied to school. She was so nervous she ran through a whole pack of gum. You’re brilliant, you’re beautiful, you’re going to get out of here. I sat on her bed, folding the stupid hearts as she chewed and filled out the application. I love you. The last one dropped on her desk when she finally hit send.