Page 85 of Touch of Hate
There were always going to be sacrifices. Necessary ones.
Yes, and I’m doing this just as much for River and me as I am for her. Aside from Scarlet, she’s the only source of sunshine in my otherwise dark life.
Soon. We’ll be together soon.
I can’t wait to tell her it’s all over. She was too young to understand what went down at Safe Haven, but she lost as much as I did.
She’ll be proud of her brothers. We can finally move on, all three of us.
I’m well aware it’s the presence of the woman in my lap that will get me the rest of the way to the goal line. Not that I was ever doubtful. Even if I lost faith and decided I didn’t have the balls to get it done, River would’ve never let me get away with giving up.
But Scarlet gives me the extra courage and focus needed to push forward. Only the thought of her sleeping peacefully last night, deserving so much more than a tiny cabin in the middle of nowhere, kept me working long past the point of exhaustion. The sooner this is all over, the sooner we can move on to our happily ever after.
And it will be one—for all of us.
Once I finish, I place a kiss on the back of her neck.
“Wanna take a ride with me?”
She turns around fast enough to almost whip me with the braid. “A ride? Where?” The way her eyes sparkle suddenly makes me feel sorry for keeping her here. There’s no other way at the moment. All the more reason to move forward and get this over with once and for all.
“The nearest town is a few miles from here. We’ll need more supplies, and you could use clothes that fit you.”
“That would be great.” I expect her to ask if I have the money—and for an instant, I think she’s about to do just that—but she bites her tongue. I mean, why would I offer if there was no money? But she’s a worrier. I have to adjust to that.
“How about I make dinner for us tonight, too?” I pull her closer, soaking in her warmth and sweetness. “Whatever you want.”
She buries her face in my neck, her lips tickling my skin. “I thought you didn’t know how to cook.”
“I’m not a chef,” I remind her, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t cook. You should see me boil spaghetti. And potatoes? I can bake the fuck out of a potato.”
“Either one sounds good.” Yes, I’m sure oatmeal and peanut butter are wearing thin. So thin, in fact, she hurries through getting dressed and even hums while she does so. It feels unfair, knowing it’s so easy to make her happy. It takes so little. How can I bring myself to believe I’m in any way worthy of her?
I have all this darkness inside me, seething and roiling. It’s so easy for me to lose my grip. All she’s ever wanted was to be with me because she only ever saw the parts of me that didn’t leave me recoiling in shame. She saw the good and figured that was all there was to me.
Her hero.
Now, her hero’s going to take her to the sort of town that has a total of maybe three traffic lights and one big box store, all so he can provide her with more than the bare necessities. It’s pitiful, really.
I’m not about to tell her that, of course. I’ll keep it to myself, as I’ve kept so many things.
Such as the dual nature of this trip. The email from River I found waiting in my inbox this morning. The mission I’m on is one year in the making.
He stays less than a half hour from the cabin while hunting for fresh victims in the area. According to River’s research, his favorite cult elder and mine covers this territory while Rebecca sends her son to Reno.
I suppose enough isolated, dissatisfied people exist around here to make venturing from the new compound worthwhile.
Christian Grady, aka my worst nightmare as a child. There was never any escaping his watchful eye. He couldn’t have been too far outside his teens, yet he was given charge over us kids. I guess because Joseph imagined he’d be relatable.
Relatable? More like sadistic. I didn’t understand when I was a kid, not entirely. I knew he seemed to enjoy inflicting corporal punishment—his quiet assurances to the contrary were bullshit that even I could see through. I had no idea that some people got off on feeling powerful over those they saw as weak.
He always reminded us that it was for the best.
That God wanted it that way.
When, in reality, Joseph wanted it that way.
He’s the key. He’s what we need to get into the compound.