Page 20 of Beloved Sacrifice

As many times as he’d practiced this conversation, he still tensed at the sound of Rose’s footsteps returning.

Rose paused in the doorway. She was slender and fit, her dark hair cut in a sleek style, though right now it was tousled, and a few wet strands clung to her cheeks and forehead—she must have washed her face.

Her eyes were large and brown, though reddened from crying. One night long ago—a lifetime ago, before the fateful night of the caning—he’d video chatted her, drunk on the cheap beer that was a college staple, and had made his equally drunk friends help him sing Brown-Eyed Girl to her.

You, my-ay brown-eyed girl.

She licked her lips, looking around the room before settling her gaze on him. “You’re alive.”

It wasn’t a question but he nodded.

“I…we…thought you were dead. That they’d killed you.”

“They tried.” Weston tucked his hair behind what remained of his right ear. That and his ocular prosthesis were the most obvious damage from the attempted murder.

“How did you get away?”

“They left me for dead.” Weston clasped his hands and looked down at them. “I survived.”

“And you didn’t tell me. Or Caden.”

“I couldn’t.”

“Why?” Her brows were drawn with anger, but the word had come out as a plea. She shook her head and said it again. “Why?”

“First, because I was in a coma. I was extremely lucky that the people I’d reached out to for help found me. They got me medical care, but I was in a coma for a while. After that I was recovering from my injuries.”

“Twelve years, Weston. You’ve been gone twelve years.”

“Yes,” he said simply.

“You never came back for…” Rose trailed off, and what little color there was in her cheeks drained away. “Oh God. Tabby.”

He raised his hands, palms out. “I took care of her.”

“What did you do?” Rose asked in horror.

She thought he’d hurt his little sister? Damn it. He would never hurt Tabby. Irritation made his words harsh.

“I killed myself for years trying to make enough money, and trade enough favors, to arrange for Tabitha to go into a private facility in Sweden when the time was right. There’s a doctor there who knows Friedreich’s ataxia.” The rare degenerative disease that kept his sister Tabitha in a hospital also made her the perfect hostage. Tabby’s safety was what his parents had used to keep all of them—him, Rose, and Caden—in line.

“You got her out?” Rose stared at him, as if she were trying to read his thoughts.

“Yes. When I heard Caden was dead, I knew I had to act. I got her out first. Then I came to Boston for you.”

“She’s safe?” The line of Rose’s shoulders softened. “I didn’t even…I didn’t think about her. I forgot about her.” Her lips twisted in a grimace. “I forgot about her.” The last sentence was low and quiet.

“She’s safe. She’s in the hospital in Sweden.”

“How?” Rose shook her head. “Caden and I tried to get her out.”

“Like I said, years of work and millions of dollars in forged documents and bribes. I had fake transfer papers, a scenario I’d been building for years. Caden’s…what happened meant I had to accelerate the plan, but it still worked.

“A private medical transport took her from Sea-Tac to Toronto. From there, she changed to a different medical charter and was flown to Sweden. The doctors there have her records; they know how to care for her. They’ll help her.”

Rose bent her head. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

“She’s my sister.”

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