“Just tell me where you are, honey. We’re worried about you… Yes, I know your boyfriend is an inconsiderate asshole, but remember why you love him… you don’t mean that.”
I listened closely to the one-sided conversation, but when it appeared to be going nowhere, I silently indicated for the phone.
“Lake?” I spoke into the phone.
She huffed and asked, “Yes?”
“Keiran is being released in about two hours.” I hung up the phone and handed it back to her aunt.
“Why did you do that? We may not get her to answer again.”
“She’ll come,” Dash answered.
Carissa folded her arms and regarded us with skepticism. “Lake is perfectly capable of making her own decisions. While I like Keiran a lot, he does not and should not have that kind of power over her.”
“Then clearly you’ve never been in love.”
Less than an hour later, Lake slammed through the front door, rolled her eyes, and marched upstairs. Carissa followed her upstairs after recovering from the surprise of how fast her niece returned.
It was a wonder she was even surprised given the kind of man her husband is. Years ago, I got the impression that he wasn’t someone to be fucked with. He happened to be one of the best private investigators in the world and one who could no doubt find Kennedy. Unfortunately, shortly before Kennedy was taken Jackson went off grid in some third world country on a case.
“Where’s my sister?” Dash asked, breaking me from my thoughts.
“My uncle’s place.”
“So what did you guys do last night?” I cut my eyes to see him regarding me with narrowed eyes.
“Is that any of your business?”
“Someone had to make her their business since you haven’t been concerned for the last four years.”
“What the fuck do you want from me? An apology letter?”
“I want you to man the fuck up and realize we aren’t kids anymore. My sister doesn’t deserve to bear the brunt of your grudge, and if you even think of hurting her again, I will kill you, motherfucker.”
“Well, then I suggest you kill me now because whether I leave or stay, she will get hurt. It was a mistake bringing me back here, so if you want to blame someone blame the person who started all of this.”
“You’re not making it any better. Why can’t you see that?”
I laughed despite the seriousness of our conversation. “Because I don’t want to make it better. I have no intentions of doing so. I came to collect. So, as I said before—kill me or stay out of my way.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Fifteen years ago
KEENAN
MY DAD HAD just come home with a strange boy who was around my age. At first, I was excited about having someone to play with, but as soon as my dad left us alone, the boy he called Keiran disappeared.
I searched all over the house until the only place left was the basement where I wasn’t allowed to go. My mom had said it was dangerous, but she hadn’t been home for a while, and I doubt my dad would notice. He never noticed me.
Slowly, I ventured down the dark stairs. When I made it all the way down, I realized the basement was cold and creepy.
I looked left and right but couldn’t see anything for the lack of light. Since I’d never been allowed to come down here, I didn’t know where the light switch was.
“Why are you following me?”
The voice seemed ghostly filtering through the dark. How did he know I was here?
“Where are you?” Slowly, I ventured deeper into the dark in the direction his voice came from.
“What do you want?”
“Don’t be afraid,” I said softly. To be honest, he made me afraid.
His laugh was unusual and not at all friendly. It was scary like he was, and I got the feeling that being down here alone with him was dangerous.
When he finally finished laughing, he said, “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Neither should you,” I countered. “We aren’t allowed down here.”
“Says who?”
“My dad. We’ll get in trouble.”
“Will he kill me?”
“What? No! Why do you think that?”
“Because I’ll kill him if he tries to hurt me.”
“He won’t. Please don’t kill him.” I wanted to run away, but I stayed because I wanted to know more. The sound of his voice became louder as I got closer.
“Why do you care?”
“Because he’s my dad. Don’t you have a dad?” I frowned because he acted weird. Kids weren’t supposed to talk about killing.
“Yes, but he isn’t nice. Is your dad nice?”
“He can be, but he’s busy a lot, so I don’t ever really see him. I never have anyone to talk to or play with either, so I was wondering…”
“I don’t know how to play.”
“But you’re a kid. Kids always know how to play.”
“I’m not a kid. I’m a slave.”
“What’s a slave?” I felt foolish talking to the dark, but it was better than not having anyone to talk to at all.
“I don’t really know, but I always have to do what I’m told or they’ll kill me.”
“Who?”
“The trainers.”
“They sound like bad people.”
“They are.”
“Are you bad?”
“Yes. You should stay away from me.”