Page 138 of I Will Break You

“You going to ask her?”

“She doesn’t remember anything before the age of ten.”

“Then how?”

“Crack her open. Once she’s raving mad, I’ll extract her secrets. She might even have leads on where he’s hiding the facility.”

“What about our backlog of paying clients?”

“Our goal is revenge. Those clients only exist to fund the search for my father,” I snarl.

Jynxson doesn’t reply because he doesn’t want to go through this conversation again. We’ve tried everything imaginable to smoke him out, from ruining his business to murdering his family. I thought he would at least attend my execution.

“What if he’s dead?” Jynxson asks.

“He’s alive,” I snarl.

“Maybe it’s time to let go and focus on taking down the Moirai.”

“I can do both.”

He shakes his head but doesn’t waste his breath. It’s different for Jynxson. He’d been living on the streets as a child from an early age and welcomed the chance of shelter, good food and boys his own age. For him, the facility was a refuge.

When Mom’s condition became terminal, she made arrangementsfor me to live with a friend of hers who had a daughter my age. I was plucked from a happy home, brought into one filled with misery, and manipulated into choosing the facility over a normal life. Seeing something similar happen to my sisters only doubled my resentment.

“The gang wants to throw you a welcome back party,” Jynxson says.

“Later.”

“Should we at least air out your place?” he asks.

“Not yet.” I flick my head toward the open grave. “I’m staying with her.”

“Where?”

“13 Parisii Drive.”

He whistles. “Coincidence?”

“You see why I can’t kill her? Besides, he’ll get sloppy now that he thinks I’m dead. If she’s a former Lolita, I’ll interrogate her for clues.”

Jynxson is about to protest when Amethyst climbs out of the grave, panting hard, and covered in even more dirt. Her stockings have come loose from their garter belt and now gather around her ankles, making her look like she’s been thoroughly fucked.

My cock stirs, and the sensation is accompanied by a surge of jealousy. She might be a lying, conniving, little ghoster, but the only man who should dishevel her is me.

“That’s your plot.” He nods toward the grave.

“What are you talking about?”

“The one your fan club bought.”

I flash my teeth. “You’re fucking kidding.”

“Nope. Someone overheard the gravediggers talking about it earlier.”

“And she’s using it to dispose of scum?” I snarl, my jaw tightening.

He raises a shoulder. “You want someone to remove the corpse?”