“I’ve always promised my wife’s life to Malia,” he says, this conversation seeming pointless, filled as it is with things I already know. “And, while I know my daughter is alive, the fact she has not come home yet tells me she’s not okay. Malia would not wait around for someone to save her. If Tawny is behind any more suffering for my baby girl then she will meet her end at all of our hands. It’s time she dies.”
My jaw clenches, my teeth grinding together from the force of holding my tongue. Nathaniel Olin has lied to Malia, denied her her birthright because she was born a female, made her lesser—in my eyes he’s no better than her mother. However, I know for some reason Malia loves and trusts him. A woman who doesn’t give just anyone those things and sees the bad before the good, adores him. For her, I need to hold myself back.
If the day comes when she returns without a beating heart then it’s game over.
I will take down every motherfucker I know has wronged her and drag them to Hell with me.
“Call Xana, Liam,” The Omen finally says when I don’t respond. “You need your sister, and she needs to know her brother is okay. If you dwell on what you’ve lost, you’ll never learn to love what you have. I know from experience.”
I still don’t respond, keeping my eyes on the leveled ground in front of me.
Finally getting the hint, he walks off leaving me alone with my parents and I allow myself to think. Day turns into night and I haven’t so much as shifted in my spot, only realizing hours have passed when the unseasonably warm temperature for March plummets drastically.
A shudder runs through my body; having followed The Omen straight from the house to the cemetery, I missed the chance to grab a jacket. I let out a long breath, letting the tightness in my chest ease slightly.
“You may not have wanted this life for me,” I say to the bones in the ground that were once my parents. “I may have lived most of my life hungry for vengeance and retribution. After twenty-seven years, I think I deserve to live for me. And the life for me is Malia. I belong next to her. I always have.”
I turn on my heel and head back to the mansion, grabbing my jacket and beelining it to the underground garage.
If my sister is going to find out about this, then it will be face-to-face, not through a phone call.
I stand in front of Bastian’s colonial house in old town D.C., not knowing if my sister is even still here. The Omen promised to keep an eye on her and, even though my trust in him is nearly non-existent, I do believe he’d do this much. At least that’s what I hope. And hope seems to be the only string I’m hanging onto anymore.
I can’t imagine The Omen sending me on a goose chase for Xana at a time like this if she wasn’t here. He encouraged me to talk to her. Despite me thinking it’s best to keep her at arm’s length, especially with our current predicament, I need to see for myself she’s alright.
I follow the old concrete walkway to the front door, only stopping when I’m close enough to knock. I take in a deep breath and release slowly before rapping my knuckles on the front door twice.
The house is eerily silent, despite Bastian’s car being in the small driveway. He’s not one to go out much, at least not without a lot of encouragement, and he’s too much of a tight ass to take my sister out to have fun when she’s still underage.
A few curses sound through the thick wood and the door is opened quickly. Bastian stands in front of me, his white-blonde hair in its usual glued down slicked-back style, wearing a pressed button-up white shirt, and it looks like he chose corduroy for pants.
If he’d known I was coming, I’d think he’d have put that together just to piss me off even more. Fucking twat.
Bastian’s dark-brown eyes are narrowed, his thin lips pulled back into a sneer, as he takes in who darkens his doorstep.
“What do you want?” he grumbles.
That’s fair. I suppose his new distaste for me is justified—I did put him in the hospital to lick some wounds I happily inflicted for a bit. And I’ll likely do it again if he continues to look at me like that.
“I want to see my sister,” I say.
He tilts his head to the side and his sneer turns into something like a malicious smirk. At least as malicious as Bastian Collins can get. He’s about as threatening as a pissed-off puppy.
“Babe!” Bastian yells over his shoulder, never breaking my glare. “You have a visitor.”
Babe. I think the fuck not.
Bastian chuckles as he takes in my expression to his endearment for my sister. Xana comes into view with a confused look on her face. Had she not shown up when she did, I’d have laid herbabeout.
Fuck that, I’ll kill him.
When my sister’s eyes slide to me, she stops in her tracks and sucks in a breath. Bastian steps away chuckling under his breath as he leaves the room. Xana assesses me for a moment before breaking into a run and jumping into my arms.
“Li, are you alright? You have blood on you.”
Oops. Forgot about that.
Even though I’m covered in dried blood, her arms tighten around my neck. I wrap my arms around her and crush her between them, reveling in her warmth after the month from hell I’ve had.