Page 21 of Oathbreaker

Misha turns to me and raises his eyebrow. “Very well. Mr.Collins was up for parole last month, but the state was fairly committed to not granting it. But then your father gave the Virginia Parole Board Commissioner five hundred thousand dollars. Mr.Uvalde is laughably transparent with all his personal information. Two days after that meeting, Collins’ release was granted.”

It’s almost incredible how silently I break down. Inside my chest, my heart trips over its rhythm. It feels like I’m breathing through a coffee stirrer.

But I force myself to keep up the calm in and out and in and out of my breath. It’s a steady rhythm to keep my body alive.

But inside my mind—there, in the central cortex of the most primitive part of my brain—I know my father has signed his death warrant.

His executioner? Me.

“I see,” I say to Misha.

I activate my muscles and grit my teeth as I hobble across the room to the side table housing my prescriptions. “So my father did have something to do with this,” I say.

You know who sent me.

Yes, I already fucking knew.

I grab the bottle of Dilaudid that Leo must have placed back on the table and swallow a pill without water.

“It seems that way, yes,” Misha says calmly. “But we can discuss what to do about that situation later.”

Ella disturbs the tension by rushing in the room while balancing two coffee cups.

I let the humor that she doesn’t have candy in her hand settle in my consciousness.

But only for a moment.

“Having a party, Hunter? Who are you?” She directs this question to Veronica, pointedly avoiding Misha Hroshko’s manic gaze.

“Veronica Palmer. Winter’s sister,” she whispers. She rubs a hand over her belly. There’s a dazed look in her eyes.

Ella walks deeper into the room, giving Misha Hroshko a wide berth. She looks at me.

“Winter?” Ella asks in a breath.

“We know where she is,” I say, and Ella’s body sinks into itself. She places the coffee cups on the table.

“What are you waiting for? Go! I have August.”

I kiss her forehead. “Thank you,” I say.

“Just don’t die. Or almost die again.” She looks up at me with tears on her lashes. She’s a vulnerability for me too.

“Your father seems to be on the run, scampering like a rat,” Misha says to me as I hug Ella, and she stiffens.

“What about Dad?” she whispers. I squeeze her tighter, not wanting to destroy her world, but knowing I will anyway. Despite our father’s atrocities, Ella has a different experience with him. Her relationship is peaceful and positive, and he spoils her.

That’s why she’s never understood why Dad and I didn’t “get along.”

She pushes me away. “No, H. Dad? Did—” I pull her back to me, but she moves away, walking backward until she can get a full view of everyone. “Did Dad have something to do with this? With any part of this?” Her hands shake when she folds them across her chest.

Misha breaks in and says in a bored tone, “Your father orchestrated your brother’s woman’s abduction.” He turns to me.

My lips tingle, chilled.

Ella gasps, a choked sound rising out of her chest. “I don’t understand,” she stammers.

“Don’t you, Ella? Get your fucking head out of the sand and look the fuck around,” Leo grinds out, and we all look at him. He glares at her, and when I look back at Ella, she returns his gaze.

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