Page 100 of Overcast

“You...promise?”

“I promise.”

“Can I see him?” He frowns, eyes narrowed in on me like I’m insane for asking.

Maybe I am.

Still doesn't change the fact that he's my only parent, and I need to make sure he's tended to.

“Why?”

“He’s my dad.”

“He didn’t—” He straightens his spine, giving me all of his threatening height before he blows out a harsh exhale.

Bringing his hand to his face, he rakes it down his features, aware that he owes me this. However, I think he’s afraid I’ll try to escape again.

“Hollis,” he states more firmly. “What’s your relationship with him?”

“You didn’t answer my question,” I counter.

His biting stare hits me for the hundredth time tonight, and I cower back a little. "You already asked one. My turn.”

“I—”

"Why the fuck are you shaking now?" His words are hard, bothered, and I didn't realize I was until I glance down at the weapon in my hand, convulsing at that name.

"I...I—" He's on me, his collarbone in my face, and I can feel his biting glare burn through my skull.

A deal is a deal, but I wouldn't have agreed if I knew he was going to bring him up several times. That I had to talk about my demons and the ones before Hollis that I’ve shoved from my brain.

When Hollis showed up, the rest didn't come around anymore. I think he had something to do with that, and while I was grateful that they didn't, Hollis was there to pick up the slack.

“What did he do?” His directive is a deep growl and, even with his knife, I’m frozen to my spot.

Recalling the past is almost as hard as being tortured by Emric. At least his ending for me would’ve taken everything in my history and wiped it clean.

Fingers wrap around my chin, slowly tilting my head up to meet his, now, dark greens. He attempts to soften his features, but his jaw is locked tight.

He has no right to be angry with me or my situation. He's not a hero, and his trying to defend my honor is ludacris.

“Tell me,” he presses. “No matter what...I’m not going to do anything to you.”

I want to open my mouth and be strong.

I want to tell him to go fuck off.

I want to be like his sister, Reagan, and not be afraid of his facial features that turn into steel because he’s something else underneath the facade of torturer and judge.

Except my breathing hitches, sweat begins beading at the back of my neck and forehead, trailing down my skin.

And the whole world seizes.

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