Sara barely made it down the road before the sobs started. From the moment she saw the knife, it had been building. The emotional strain was too much. She had kept it in for all that time while she argued with Saxton. She hadn’t broken down or gotten overly emotional in front of him. That was good. But after all the confusion and panic and rage and longing and disgust, she couldn’t hold it in any longer.
She had to pull over. She stopped the car, glanced at Ian to make sure he was still sleeping, and let the tears break free.
When she saw the knife, her blood had turned to ice. She knew it was Carter’s. She picked it up to make sure, but she knew. The tiny scratch on the hilt by the eagle’s foot? She put that there when Carter was teaching her to throw. She’d missed and hit the stove’s edge, putting that ding in the metal. The weight of the knife was just right for throwing, he’d said. Not all knives were good for that. But this one was. He’d taught her to throw it. Taught her where to aim to kill someone, or where to aim if she only wanted to incapacitate them. But go for the kill, he’d said. If you let them live, they’ll come after you, he’d said.
She shook her head to block it from her mind. Why had she lied to Saxton like that? Of course Carter had gotten violent. He’d punched holes in every wall in their house. He’d gotten kicked out of three schools for fighting. He’d been arrested countless times for having weapons or for assault. She knew, deep down inside, that Carter had most likely done exactly what Saxton had said. He’d probably killed Liam in cold blood, in some dishonorable way. Her brother did things like that. He’d been accused of even more dishonorable things over the years. They hadn’t all stuck, but there had been a rape accusation and even trafficking charges that he’d gotten thrown out.
And he was running this auction. If he’d be accused of trafficking before, there was no reason to think he wasn’t doing it again. Saxton was right. Carter was a bad man. He should be taken out. It would save many people.
She thought back to all the times she’d been afraid of him. The times he yelled and punched things and broke things. It was horrible living with him. That’s why she’d moved out when she found out she was pregnant. Why she’d dropped out of high school to work to pay for a place to raise her son. She didn’t know what would happen if a crying baby woke Carter up or disturbed him in some way.
Since she’d moved out and wasn’t around him all the time, she’d started to forget over the years how bad he’d been. She had less contact with him, and it was always under casual, low tension conditions that gave no cause for him to act out. She’d convinced herself that he’d changed. That even if he was still getting into trouble, he wasn’t as bad as he used to be.
But now here was this truth staring her in the face. Carter was still up to all the horrible things he had always been up to, maybe worse now that he had time to grown his empire. And he was a gang leader now, too? Could it be any worse?
She had defended him to Saxton because she felt like she had to. She felt like no one else would, and that was her duty as his sister. There had been good times. She had memories of him helping her tie her shoes, sticking up for her at school, and even coming to see Ian when he was first born. He’d given her money on occasion and offered more than once to get her involved in some business of his that would bring her significant money. But she was never willing to do anything illegal. Bu he wasn’t all bad. He had been there for her at times. And she needed to defend him now.
He was her brother, and she didn’t want to see him dead, even if he was bad, even if he did bad things. He didn’t need to die for it. He could go to jail. Spend years there and maybe change and get some sort of life back. Some life doing something good. If he was killed, there’d be no chance for redemption for him. Didn’t everyone deserve that chance?
Leaving Saxton had been necessary, but hard. She hated the idea of being alone again, knowing that Carter might have his gang after her. Could Mr. Creepy have been working for Carter? Could he be kidnapping her to get information on Saxton? Maybe Carter was searching for Saxton just as hard as Saxton was searching for him. Maybe Carter wanted information like Saxton did. Well, she hadn’t given it to Saxton, and she wouldn’t give it to Carter, either. She could play dumb.
But she hadn’t wanted to leave either, because she had been desperately hoping he would change his mind. She walked down the stairs slowly, hoping he would run after her. Tell her he loved her and he’d do anything for her. She wanted him to at least walk down to see them out. Something. Anything. But he’d watched her go without so much as a word to try to convince her to stay. And that hurt.
She couldn’t deny her feelings for him, and he hadn’t hid his for her. They had something. And she’d made big threats. She couldn’t go back on them. She couldn’t just turn around and tell him she was just kidding and didn’t mean it. She still needed to know he wasn’t going to go after Carter. Even if the reason was more that she didn’t want Saxton to get in trouble or injured than it was to protect her brother. Her brother could protect himself. And that’s what she was really worried about.
If Carter was the leader of this gang, the Cruel Crows, and everything Saxton claimed had been true, then if he tried to go after Carter, he’d likely only get himself killed. She couldn’t bare the thought of that. It was bad enough that this Liam and who knew how many others had fallen at Carter’s hand. She couldn’t stand the thought of Saxton being injured, too. Or worse.
And it would be her fault, in a way. If she hadn’t entered the auction and alerted Saxton to the knife thing, he wouldn’t have been asking around and he wouldn’t have gotten stabbed. If she hadn’t told him who the knife belonged to, he wouldn’t be planning to walk into certain death. He was going to get himself killed, and it was all her fault. She couldn’t live with that. Having someone’s blood on her hands was bad, but having the blood of the first man she’d felt anything for in over six years was so much worse. She wanted him to live, and she wanted to have some sort of life with him.
But she’d messed that up, too. Why in the world had she threatened him like that? Just to keep him safe? If he thought she’d turned him in, maybe he wouldn’t go after Carter and wouldn’t get killed in the process? She hadn’t thought before she’d said it. She was so desperate, it had just come out. And then it was too late to take it back. That statement alone might have sent him away for good. He might never speak to her again for saying that, for making such a vile threat.
Sara stared ahead, into the dark night through blurry vision. Now what? Go home and carry on tomorrow like nothing had happened? Explain to Ian, what? That she and Saxton had gotten into a fight and they would never see him again? Was that even true? Or could he somehow forgive her for what she’d done? He had no reason to. She’d turned against him fully and sided with her murderer brother over him. And she’d done it knowing he was right and she was wrong. She had betrayed him in the worst sort of way. If she were him, she wouldn’t forgive her.
She wiped her eyes again and took several deep breaths before starting the car. She drove home slowly, her vision still blurred, making it hard to see in the dark night. They made it to their apartment’s parking lot. She checked her phone, a glimmer of hope flaring bright, then dying when she saw no missed calls, no texts from Saxton.
She got out of the car, feeling so heavy with regret and despair that she couldn’t hold her head up. She opened the car door and picked Ian up, then slung their overnight bag over her shoulder. She closed the car door and locked it, each step of the process feeling like she was moving through Jell-O.
Her eyes burned, her jaw ached, her throat was scratchy. She needed her bed. Maybe after a good night’s sleep, this would all be better. Maybe in the light of day, it wouldn’t seem as bad. Maybe somehow, everything would be okay.
She allowed herself to dream as she climbed the stairs laboriously. One foot, shift up, the other foot. Maybe she would wake up to Saxton at her door, bringing her fresh coffee and flowers, saying he was sorry, that he wouldn’t go after Carter. And then he’d come in and they’d have breakfast and he’d tell her it was all going to be okay anyway because Carter had been arrested for some nonviolent crime that would keep him locked up for life. They were safe, Liam was avenged somewhat, Saxton wouldn’t get killed or go to prison for murder. Carter would be off the streets and out of commission. It would all work out for the best.
She let out a heavy sigh as she fumbled for her keys. There was no way any of that would happen. Maybe Saxton would show up. Maybe. But of all of her little daydream fantasy, that part was both the thing that seemed the least likely to happen, and was the thing she wanted the most.
Sara shifted Ian so her hand was free to unlock the door. She pushed the door open and stepped inside. She felt over the wall for the light switch. Her fingers didn’t touch it, but the light flipped on.
The sudden shock of seeing someone in her kitchen sent her heart into a furious panicked rhythm. She didn’t recognize him, but she recognized the eagle crest.
As the man raised his hand and brought it down hard on her head, the crest on the hilt of his knife was the last thing she saw before her vision went black. She felt herself hit the floor, had time to worry about Ian crashing down beside her, then she had no more thoughts.