Page 73 of The Tenth Circle

Returning to my perch, I reply, “Eh. People are overrated, anyway.”

“Yeah, I never would’ve gone if I had the choice.”

I don’t even need to ask this question, but I do anyway.

“Who forced you?”

“Daddy, mostly. But Saint didn’t really help.”

“That sucks, I’m sorry.”

A glimmer of light stretches across her face.

“Don’t be. I have a lot more hope now that Daddy allowed me to come home.”

“What made him change his mind?”

She looks my way, then focuses on the wall behind me. “If I had to guess, your mom.”

My mom?

Why would she have any say in this decision?

“She talk him into it or somethin’?”

“Nah. I’m guessing her presence was enough. Daddy has been wanting a mother figure for us in the house for a long time. Ever since we lost ours.”

How did I not know Saint’s mom died?

Why did I never ask?

’Cause you were too busy baiting him.

Trying my best not to eyeroll my conscience, I tell her, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Oh, she’s not dead. Just gone.”

Not. Helping. The guilt here, Theory.

“Uh, shit. Sorry.”

She snickers. “Stop apologizing. Not your fault she sucks.”

With a lift of my shoulder, I slide next to her on the bed, human instinct taking over my need for distance.

“If it helps, my dad sucks too.”

She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Kinda does.”

Twirling my fingers together, I tell her, “He’s been locked up since I was a baby.”

I leave out the mafia detail, knowing how dangerous it is to mention, even eighteen years later.

“Yikes. Dad didn’t tell us much about you guys before rushing us out the door. I figured yours took off like my mom.”

“Nope.” I pop my lips. “Just a criminal.”