Page 66 of Serpent King's Revenge

"Then let's do this." My pulse thumped in my ears, not fear exactly, but something wilder, like the thrill you get right before a fight.

“Glad you could make it,” Knuckles said as we walked toward him. He reached out and clasped my hand in his, then Abby’s. “We have a lot to talk about.”

“Where’s everybody else?” I asked.

“Inside.” He tilted his head back toward the gaping maw of the warehouse entrance. “Your siblings are there, Justin’s boyfriend, too. Some of the Vipers. We’ve been talking.”

“About?”

“About what we’re going to do about your father,” Knuckles said. I saw the rage on his face as he thought about my dad…and I remembered that Knuckles had loved my mom. I thought of her ghost in the corner of that solitary cell, the need for vengeance.

I knew we were aligned now, no matter what had come before.

“Speaking of fathers…” Abby trailed off. “Knuckles, do you have my cell? I need to touch base with my dad, especially after…”

I glanced at her. “After what?”

Abby winced. “Last I heard from him, Diane Hayes was still missing. I um…I shot her.”

“Jesus,” I breathed. “Okay; call your dad, I’ll meet up with my siblings.” I reached out and squeezed her arm gently. “Just stay safe, okay? If we don’t meet up again in a half-hour, I’m coming to find you.”

She laughed softly. “You’d better.”

And with that, I somehow severed myself from her, letting her stay up top with her cell while Knuckles took me down into the insurgents’ base.

I was about to come face to face with the arsonists that had set my whole life on fire.

And the man just ahead of me was the one behind it all.

Chapter Thirty: Abby

Ididn’t want to talk to my dad, but I knew it was necessary.

Ever since I’d gotten his help to contact Nathan, I’d stayed MIA–because I couldn’t bear to face his sense of justice. I’d shot a cop. Someone just like him. Even if he didn’t trust Hayes, even if she was the villain in my story…

…what if she had a family? What if I was the bad guy here?

The shades of grey in my life were looking more like pitch black every day.

I pressed the power button on my phone, watching the screen flicker to life, and a heavy sigh escaped me. Dad had to be going out of his mind by now. I could picture him pacing, his greying hair a disheveled mess, as he fielded call after call about…fuck, I didn’t even know what about. By this point, he would have heard something–about Hayes, maybe even about our little riot and prison break. I owed him an explanation, but the thought of adding to his worry twisted my gut into tight knots.

"Come on, Abby, just do it," I muttered to myself, thumb hovering over the call button.

But I hesitated.

The last thing I wanted was for Dad to hear his daughter had been part of something that went against everything he stood for.

I slid down one of the pillars of the warehouse until I was sitting on the cool concrete, the phone clutched in both hands. I was worried he wouldn't understand, couldn't understand, why I made the choices I did. It wasn't just about the Bureau or the job—it was personal, it was about my family.

After all those years talking a big game about justice, I’d broken bad.

Nathan and our baby were more important than anything else.

"Sorry, Dad," I whispered into the stale air of the garage, wrestling with the choice I held in my hands. I couldn't risk his peace of mind, not when my own was so frayed–right? I couldn't bear the disappointment that would inevitably lace his voice, the stern concern that would remind me too much of my childhood.. No, it was better to keep him in the dark, just a little longer.

I looked at the phone and told myself to get a grip.

No…he had to know the truth. And he had to hear it from my lips.

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