Page 86 of Wicked Knight

My secrets are out and in the worst hands possible. It was bad enough that Dmitri’s father found out, but mine too?

My father was the cause of this fucked-up incident because he got the contract dissolved.

Maybe the more important question I should be focusing on is why.

Why did he dissolve the contract?

It’s been nearly eight months. So, why now?

What made him do itnow?

I’ve never known of a blood oath contract being dissolved before. That’s why I thought my little plan could work. Dad would have had to move the earth to get Aleksander to terminate it.

And look what happened.

My tears soak into my sleeves as I swipe at my face, choking back the sobs that keep threatening to bubble over.

The memory of Dmitri’s face—raw with anger, with helplessness—burns in my mind, and it makes the ache in my chest unbearable.

My phone buzzes in the passenger seat with another message. I quickly glance at it and see it’s from my mother. Again.

Come home. We need to talk.

The first message asked me to call her. That was twenty minutes ago.

I couldn’t call. There’s no way I could speak to her on the phone with all of this happening.

I hate confrontation, but I hate hiding just as much, so I’d rather deal with a problem head on and see what I’m up against.

I suppose she thinks I’m not coming because I didn’t call.

She’ll just have to wait.

I don’t know if I should be worried or grateful that my father hasn’t tried to call me.

The arguments we had over the summer were terrible. What will it be like today?

I can just imagine I’ll see the same judgment in his eyes that Dmitri’s father showed me.

Except it will be worse because he’s my father.

He’ll probably consider me a traitor for being with Dmitri. He won’t understand.

After what Dmitri’s father put him through, why would he?

The image alone makes a fresh bout of tears flow down my cheeks. I wipe them away, but it’s fruitless. More come.

With a shaky breath, I grip the wheel even tighter and continue down the road.

Half an hour later, I’m pulling up in front of the cottage, where the inevitable reckoning waits for me.

I get out of the car, only just noticing how ridiculous I must look in Dmitri’s Raventhorn football jersey that swamps my tiny frame. It covers my shorts and hits my kneecaps; it looks like a poor attempt at a Halloween costume.

Or like what you’d find on a girl who’s just been thrown out of her boyfriend’s apartment by his father.

None of that matters now.

Trembling legs carry me up the garden path. The door is unlocked, so I walk inside the cottage and find my mother and father in the living room.