Page 107 of Touch of Hate
So many others could be going through the same thing at this very moment. So many other little boys and girls who might one day carry around the ghosts of what they suffered.
I can’t let him down.
What’s more, I can’t let him go through this on his own.
“No matter what,” I agree, and I mean it with every beat of my heart.
“Good.” His face seems to transform when he smiles. I’d do anything to make him this happy all the time. Glowing, radiant with it. “River gave me more information this morning. We’re ready to get rolling on the next phase.”
I nod, forcing a smile that can’t possibly look sincere.
He’s so exhilarated, so full of excited energy, I doubt he notices.
“Shit.” To my surprise, he lifts an arm and sniffs, his nose wrinkling comically. “I need a shower. I’m sorry you have to come near me when I’m like this. Sometimes, it’s like I forget about everything else when we get deep into our plans.”
“I’ve noticed.” Either I’m very good at concealing my irritation with River or he’s too busy buzzing with excitement to see it for what it is. “You’re lucky I’m here to keep an eye on you.”
“Oh, I knew that already.” He smiles down at me, and I can’t help but bask in the warmth and glow of his love. If only I could turn him away from this crazy idea. Why am I not enough to make him see everything he’s risking?
“Get your stinky ass in the shower, then.” I give him a playful shove toward the bathroom, laughing before I turn to the table. The sight of the closed laptop leaves me scowling. I wish I knew how to reach River. I believe the two of us could have a nice, informative chat.
It isn’t the laptop or River on my mind once my gaze drifts a few inches to the left, where Ren’s phone sits.
How many times have I watched him tuck that phone into his pocket and wished he’d be a little less careful? He never leaves it lying around. There hasn’t been a chance for me to reach out to calm my family and ease the fears I know they must wrestle with.
Now, there’s more at stake. Ren’s safety, his life. He might be walking headfirst to his own execution, and nothing I say or do will be enough to change his mind. He’s set on this course. He’s almost manic with excitement.
Now more than ever, I need advice. I need help. I need my brother.
And there might never be another chance.
With one eye on the closed bathroom door, and my heart pounding like a triphammer, I close my fingers around the phone, glad to find it unlocked. It’s a new phone, a burner, but Q has kept the same phone number for years. I know it by heart and punch it in before I can lose my nerve.
“Hello?”
My brother’s distrusting bark brings tears to my eyes once again. I only thought I missed him before now; when his voice brings his face to mind in clear detail, the tightness in my throat threatens to strangle me.
“Quinton?” I whisper, one hand cupped close to my mouth to smother the sound.
“Scar? Oh shit, is it you? Are you okay? Where are you? Does Ren still have you? Has he hurt you?” I’m pretty sure it all comes out in a single breath, his questions almost overlapping.
“I’m okay. I really am.”
“Aspen told me about the two of you,” he announces, and it falls on my ears like a lead weight. “Why didn’t you talk to me?”
My heart clenches and a surge of heat—the heat of betrayal—threatens to singe my insides before reason calms me. Of course, she’d do that. I’m sure as soon as they knew Ren had taken me, she confessed our conversation. It might’ve been a means of convincing Q he had nothing to worry about, that Ren would never hurt me. That I’d want to be with him.
“She told you?”
“I know she broke her promise not to tell anyone, but you need to understand we were losing our minds. Mom was inconsolable, Dad was literally going to go on a killing spree, and I was right behind him. Aspen only told us so we would calm down.”
“We’ve had men looking for you far and wide,” he continues, his words still rushed. “Dad’s been working day and night, calling police departments and greasing palms to make sure we hear first of anything out of the ordinary. He’s on the edge. It’s a miracle he hasn’t killed anyone yet for lack of decent intel.
“And Mom’s… still beside herself,” he adds, some of the anxiousness draining from his rant. “There’s no comforting her, no matter how we try.”
This is nothing new. It comes as no surprise. She already lost Adela, and now I’m gone, too. I never asked Ren to kidnap me, so why does the crushing weight of immense guilt threaten to make me crumple on the spot.
There’s no time for this. He won’t be in there forever. We might already have taken too long. “Listen, please. I’m sorry I’ve had you worried, and please, please, tell Mom and Aspen I’m fine. I mean it. They don’t have to worry about me. None of you do.”