Page 35

JENNA

I wake with my stomach churning. It takes a minute for me to orient myself in my surroundings.

Then it all comes back in a flood—Blaise ambushing Ronan in the wine cellar and telling me his love for me was all a lie to get back at showing Ronan how to get into the house.

The chaos when Ronan got away. Ronan’s dark, empty eyes staring down at me as he held a gun, ready to kill me.

Blaise barging in, killing Ronan without a second thought.

His killing the guard. And then coming here.

I lie in bed, feeling the loss of everything I’ve ever known.

My stomach both rolls over and growls. I need to eat something.

The house is quiet as I pad down the hallway still in clothes from last night. Maybe everyone's asleep and I can raid the kitchen in peace. At the very least, I hope Blaise isn’t here. I can’t look at him and not feel like such a fool for buying everything he said and did.

Ash Ifrinn sits at the kitchen island, a steaming mug of coffee in front of him.

His blue eyes lock onto me the moment I enter.

They're the same shape as Blaise's, but Blaise has green eyes. In fact, Blaise is different from his brothers in that he has blond hair instead of dark brown. But there’s no mistaking the resemblance.

I can see their mother in them. Mrs. Ifrinn was a kind woman.

I think about Mrs. Kean who also does generous things, but in comparison to Mrs. Ifrinn, Mrs. Kean does them to boost her reputation.

Mrs. Ifrinn did it out of genuine goodness.

Or at least that is the impression I remember of her.

"There's cereal in the cabinet." Ash's voice carries none of the hostility from last night. "Or I can make eggs if you want protein."

I hover in the doorway, unsure whether to bolt or stay. The smell of coffee makes my stomach flip. “Can I have toast? I can make it if you show me where things are.”

"Sit." He points to a stool across from him. "You need to reduce your stress.”

My hand instinctively moves to my stomach. "Did Blaise tell everyone about…?"

"The baby? Yes.” He points again at the stool. “Sit.”

The kitchen suddenly feels smaller, more confining. This man blamed me for his parents' deaths just hours ago. Now he's offering to make me breakfast like we're family.

“How long do I need to stay here?”

“Until your mom can be moved.” He holds up a tea kettle. “Tea?”

I nod, wondering if this is just a surreal dream. Ash, the brusque man who thinks I helped kill his parents and clearly isn’t happy about having to guard me, puts water on and then drops two slices of bread in the toaster.

I wish my mother were here. I think of the phone Blaise left me. I had a moment to consider calling 9-1-1, but I didn’t. I can’t say why for sure. Perhaps because I know the Keans have friends in the police, and I can’t be sure it would be safe. “Have you heard anything about my mother?”

“Phoenix took a shift last night. Flint should be back today.”

The kettle whistles, and he pours water over a bag of herbal tea. The toast pops, and he puts it on a plate, setting it on the island. He pulls butter and strawberry jam from the refrigerator and sets them next to the toast. I spread the jam on the toast and take a tentative bite.

"Your mom usually up this early?" Ash asks.

“Probably not.” It is just after six in the morning. I hope she’s resting.

"Flint says she's doing well. The doctors are happy with her recovery."

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. Everything feels like a trap, their kindness, their concern. Just like Blaise's attention felt real until it wasn't.

"He really does care about you.”

My gaze jerks up to him.

"Blaise isn't the type to risk everything for someone unless they matter."

"He pretended to care to hurt me and get to Ronan.”

"If that were true, he would've let Ronan kill you last night. Instead, he blew his cover and got shot protecting you."

All of a sudden, I’m not hungry anymore. I push the plate away. "He came to kill Ronan, not save me.”

He rolls his eyes. “Blaise was ready to leave through the tunnel when Ronan escaped. So no, he didn’t hunt down Ronan to finish the job. He hunted you down to save you. And lucky for you, he did, or you and your baby would both be dead.”

He’s definitely not one to mince words.

“It doesn’t change that he used me. Do you know how violated I feel? I gave him… well…” I don’t want to tell this man I gave my virginity to his brother.

“I see. So using your reasoning, I don’t have to forgive you because your being a kid blinded by schoolgirl love doesn’t change that you let a murderer into my house, killing people I loved.”

I swallow, feeling the weight of the guilt he’s purposefully piling on me.

“People fuck up, Jenna.” He shrugs like this isn’t a big deal when it feels like the whole world to me.

“Ronan was the target, but Blaise always felt the traitor who let him in the house should pay too. Ronan knew exactly what would happen when he got that information from you. Blaise thought you did too and were just as complicit.”

Ash’s words make me think. All those times Blaise asked about the past, probed for details about the fire, he wasn't just gathering intel. He was looking for a confession.

"I didn't know." My voice comes out small, broken. "I swear I didn't know they would hurt anyone. The Ifrinns were good to us. My father died protecting them."

“Then why tell Ronan about the passageway?”

I want to cry out, to go back to my thirteen-year-old self and warn her away from her silly crush.

“The Keans were friends with the Ifrinns. It was just a game. I… I don’t know.

” I look up at him. It’s finally getting through to me just how much my actions hurt them.

Accident or not, they lost their family and home.

And just like I bought Blaise’s lie, I bought the one the Keans told us about honoring the Ifrinns by rebuilding and running the business in their stead.

"I deserve whatever punishment you think I deserve," I whisper. "But please, my mom and the baby…"

"You don't deserve punishment." Ash's voice cuts through my spiral of self-loathing. "And neither does your baby. That's what I'm trying to tell you about Blaise."

I look up, catching a glimpse of something like understanding in his blue eyes.

"He went in ready to hate you, to make you pay. But the more time he spent with you…" Ash shakes his head. "I watched my brother change. He'd meet with us to report on his mission, and he’d seem conflicted. The rage that consumed him for years started slipping away."

If only that were true. "He was just playing a part. Last night, he told me it was all a lie."

Ash laughs, and I want to slap him for mocking my pain. “The lie was when he acted like he didn’t care for you. It lasted what, all of two seconds? The minute Ronan hit you, Blaise’s mission stopped being about killing Ronan and became all about protecting you."

I remember the fury in Blaise's eyes when Ronan hit me, how quickly he moved to check whether I was hurt.

"The Blaise I knew six months ago would have completed the mission at any cost. He didn’t count on you.”

The sincerity in Ash's voice makes me want to believe him, want to believe the connection I felt with Blaise wasn't entirely fake. But the memory of his cold eyes in that cellar, the way he threw our relationship back in my face…

"If he cared, why did he say those horrible things? Why tell me it was all just manipulation?"

“Maybe because you were standing next to Ronan, defending him. Still on his side… showing him how to ruin the Ifrinns.”

I shake my head. “No, I never—at least not on purpose.”

“If you hit someone by accident while driving, aren’t you still responsible?”

I swallow hard. "But I was just stupid. A silly girl with a crush." Ten years later, I was still that girl, eating up Blaise’s attention just like I’d done with Ronan.

“What did you think Ronan would do knowing about the passage?”

“I didn’t think he’d burn the house down,” I snap.

I close my eyes, knowing I’m trying to defend myself from a man who lost so much because of my own naivety.

I look up at him again. “I’m sorry that my actions led to your losing so much.

Truly. I just was enjoying the attention Ronan gave me.

I thought it was a game. If I’d known his intentions, I wouldn’t have shown him.

I’d have told someone. I swear. I’m so, so sorry. ”

"You were thirteen." Ash's chair scrapes against the floor as he stands. "The question isn't whether you deserve forgiveness for being manipulated as a child. The question is, whose forgiveness do you really want? Mine? Or Blaise's?"

The question knocks me off guard. I hadn’t thought about Blaise’s forgiveness, but of course, he lost as much as Ash did.

“I guess I’d like all of you to forgive?—”

“But you won’t forgive Blaise. You acted with childish naivety. Is that so different from his acting from a place of pain? You realize your mistake, just as he does. Why should you be given forgiveness but not him?”

“How can I believe him when he admitted it was a lie?”

Ash’s blue eyes narrow, as if they’re searching for something. I do all I can not to flinch or look away.

“How can we believe you didn’t know what Ronan wanted? Blaise’s impression for a long time was that you’d do anything for Ronan. Including betray our family.”

“How can I trust him?—”

“How can he trust you? If Hampton Kean were to find you and tell you Ronan always loved you and you owed it to him to expose us, would you?”

“No.”