Page 17

Fifteen

HOPE

D eath is safe.

That’s all I can focus on. I know how hellish it was living with Dad.

Before he was hurting me, he was hurting Mom.

Their screaming matches weren’t a secret from me.

Hearing her go quiet, the nights she’d tell me to put on headphones, the sad smile she’d give me when I’d spend the night at a friend’s house…

she never let me know how bad it really was.

She never let me know what a monster he was. She wouldn’t leave me alone with him in the house. She was so protective. She always did what he said if I was in the room.

She constantly lost.

She welcomed his punishments and the pain.

All to protect me.

She died—he killed her, but she is safe now.

I wonder if her last moments were terrible, thinking about the pain, what she’d miss, what she’d never get to experience, worrying about me…

or if she felt good. If she knew he’d never hurt her again.

If she welcomed the peace of nothingness, knowing she’d never feel his touch or the agony he’d bring her again.

She finally got to rest. She got peace. She was safe and away from him.

Mom was in our favorite place.

“You’re safe,” I whisper. “Death is safe.”

I want her to hear me. I want her to know it’s okay.

I want her to know that she fought hard enough.

That she did enough. That she wouldn’t have been able to stop what he did.

Mostly, I hope that if there was any kind of life after death, that she never looked at me.

I need to know that she didn’t see a thing, that she just got to rest.

“Hope, please stop saying that,” Knox whispers.

I look at him, at Dimitri, at Jaxon. They’re all upset. They didn’t know. Now there’s no denying how terrible my dad is. No one will save him. He’s useless. A waste of breath. A problem that can be crushed as easily as a cockroach. No one will miss him.

I turn my mom’s skull and notice a scrape on her lower jaw. I touch it and grit my teeth. He stabbed her. He stabbed her more than once too. I’m sure of it. He wanted to get his hands dirty. He wanted her to know that he was in control of her life and death.

Slowly, I stand.

He’s going to know what it feels like.

“Hope!” Dimitri yells.

It doesn’t matter that everything is blurry.

It doesn’t matter that there are plants whipping at my hands and face.

I’m done living in fear. I won’t let my mom die for nothing.

I’m going to kill the monster that ripped her apart and if that means doing it with my bare hands, I will.

No hesitation. No mercy. The same kind of treatment he’s given me my entire life.

I race through the cabin and don’t stop until I’m standing in front of my father. He’s asleep.

Fucking asleep.

As if everything is fine.

Every single horrible memory. Every time I said no and he didn’t listen.

Every threat, every promise of more, the video camera, killing my mother, screaming at her.

It builds in me until there’s no room for crying.

There’s only fury like I’ve never known.

It feels good. It feels like power. It feels like being alive.

And curling my fist and driving it right into his nose with a crunch feels even better.

So I do it again.

Then I slap him when he tries to say my name.

When he tries to speak, I aim for his jaw.

He never gets to speak again. He never gets to defend himself. No more excuses. No more easy living. No more lying down and taking it. He gets to feel my fury and nothing else.

JAXON

“Take it. Take it,” Hope chants with every blow she gives Coach.

“Hope, you have to stop!” Knox says but she doesn’t.

She punches his stomach, his chest, his face. His face is going to require a whole lot more than ice at this rate and I love it. Dimitri skids to a halt behind me, but I’m already crouched, my fingers closing around the cold steel of the knuckle buster I slipped into my pocket earlier.

“Hope! You don’t want to do this!” Knox insists. “We can talk about it, make a plan and—”

“You can take more!” she screams at her dad when he gurgles something from his mangled face.

I shush Knox when he tries to speak again and put my hand on Hope’s shoulder. She pauses, somewhere between sobbing and panting. I show her the knuckle buster. “Try this, baby. It’ll feel better.”

She freezes, chest heaving, tears mingling with sweat. I press the knuckle buster into her palm. “Make it hurt,” I whisper.

Her expression tightens. The tears vanish, replaced by a hard-set glare. She lifts her arm and slams the metal into Coach’s jaw.

“Jaxon?” Knox asks and I shake my head.

“She needs this,” I note and step back.

I don’t let my gaze drift, not when she’s staring down at the monster. Her chest expands, her shoulder drops, and with a single swing, she slams her fist against his jaw.

He groans as his head whips to the side. The metal on Hope’s knuckles is painted in his blood and she hits him again.

“She’s going to kill him,” Knox grits as he stands beside me.

I let a slow smile curve my lips. “Good.”

Knox’s eyes flick to me. “She shouldn’t carry his death, Jax. Not with everything, she shouldn’t be the one—”

I cut him off. “Or maybe she should,” I sneer back at him. He doesn’t get it, he can never get it. He might have read her diaries, got burned by his own blood, but he can never get it.

She’ll never know peace or safety when he’s alive.

Hope’s knees buckle and a cry of pain rips free from her, just before Dimitri catches her.

She’s spent, exhausted, but this moment—it had to be done. She needed to regain her strength, to feel how it is to hurt the one who hurt her the most.

Power, control.

“Take her inside,” Knox barks and I smile at the bloody pulp of a man in front of me.

“You won’t survive this, she won’t let you live, not anymore,” I tell him and Coach coughs weakly.

Blood is the only way to cleanse her body from the fear and pain.

She needs closure… from everything.

“You stopped me once and I lost her . You won’t stop me now. You won’t take anyone away from me.” My voice is even as my heart races.

I can’t turn back time, but I can be better.

I head back inside and leave Coach tied up and bloodied outside. We’ll deal with him later.

Inside, Dimitri sits beside Hope on the couch. “These need to be cleaned and bandaged,” Dimitri says softly as he examines Hope’s hands. “I think there’s a first aid kit around here somewhere.”

He gets up and begins rummaging through the cabinets. Hope sits motionless, staring blankly at her hands resting on her lap, knuckles raw and oozing.

I walk over and take the seat Dimitri vacated. Reaching out, I lightly touch Hope’s arm. She flinches faintly.

“Hey,” I say, keeping my voice low and soothing. “You did good out there. Real good. He deserved every hit.”

She doesn’t respond, just keeps staring at her hands. I glance over at Knox, trying to gauge his reaction, but his expression is unreadable, his jaw tight as he watches Hope in brooding silence.

Dimitri returns with the first aid kit and sets to work, gently dabbing at her torn and bloodied knuckles with a damp cloth, only the occasional hitch in her breathing betraying the sting.

“We need to figure out our next steps,” Knox finally says, pushing off the wall. “We can’t stay here.”

“Agreed,” Dimitri replies without looking up from his task. “But Hope needs rest first. And time to process… everything.”

Knox nods slowly. “A few hours, no more. Then we move.”

The unspoken “before someone finds us” hangs in the air. Coach is a loose end we’ll need to tie up. And decisions will have to be made about what to do with Hope’s mom…

I reach out and tuck a strand of hair behind Hope’s ear. She allows the touch. It’s a tiny victory but I’ll take it.

“You’re safe now, baby,” I murmur. “We’re going to take care of you. Of everything.”

She finally looks up and meets my eyes. In their haunted depths, I see a flicker of something. Not hope, not yet. But maybe the beginnings of trust. Or at least acceptance that her fate is tied to ours now.

Knox clears his throat. “I’ll take first watch, make sure Coach doesn’t try anything.”

“What about my mother?” Hope’s torn voice catches us off guard.

“Whatever you want and need,” Knox rumbles. “You call the shots now, Hope. We’ve got your back, no matter what.”

A lone tear traces down her cheek but she quickly wipes it away.

We failed her in the past. We bought into Coach’s lies, ignored the signs. But no more. Hope comes first. Keeping her safe, helping her heal, giving her anything and everything she needs—that’s our sole focus now.

Coach will pay for what he’s done.

One way or another, we’ll make sure of it.