Page 103 of Fracture

“She was.”

“It’s why I never wanted to have kids. What the fuck would I know about being a good mother?”

“I think you’d be a great mother.”

Her eyes meet mine, and her shoulders slump a little. “You want kids, don’t you?”

I sigh and shrug, looking down at our hands. “It’s… I don’t know. It’s complicated. But I guess yeah, it’s something I could see myself doing. Especially… Now. I mean, can you imagine being a kid and havingthreeparents around you, who adore you? Who just… love you? Imagine being surrounded by all that.”

When I look back up at Stella, her eyes are shining with tears.

“And what if it wasn’t yours?” She asks quietly.

I shuffle closer to her, so our legs are touching and her warmth seeps against my skin. “That baby would beours.”

Her eyes flutter closed, and I lean in to brush a kiss against one of her eyelids. A single tear runs down her cheek, and I kiss it away.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, baby girl.” I tip her head back, and she opens her eyes to gaze into mine. “A life with you and Dylan, that's enough for me,morethan enough. But never letthemstop you from living. Never let their decisions make you think you’re anything like them. You’re not.”

“Do you believe Iverson?” She shifts closer to me, and I lean back so she can lie against me between my legs. “I mean, what if he was bluffing?”

“A man in his position wouldn’t be bluffing, trust me.”

Her big amber eyes gaze up at me, and she winces a little. “I’m afraid to ask.”

“Don’t. You don’t need to know.”

She lays her head back against my chest with a sigh. “You know, I’ve always wondered what it would be like to kill someone. To have that power in your hands, to take a life.” She laughs softly, stroking my bare skin with her fingertips. “It’stwisted, I know that, but… I’ve thought about it, more times than I’d like to admit. I’ve… I’ve wondered what went through my father’s head, when…” She trails off, and it hangs in the air between us.

“It’s fucked up.” I run a hand over her hair, threading my fingers through it and holding her close to me. “It’s a power trip. One that breaks a part of you.”

I feel her flinch, but she doesn’t move away from me.

“When… When your father died,” I go on slowly, “he was angry. He didn’t show an ounce of remorse. Not even a bit. Not even when Dylan had that gun pointed in his face and was screaming for him to admit what a bastard he was. He was just… angry. That he’d lost control. That now two teenagers were deciding his fate.”

“He hated Dylan.”

“I know. He hated both of us.”

Stella sits up and tilts her head, her brows knitting together. “What was the last thing he said?”

I don’t want to tell her this. I don’t want to repeat those words, because it was fucked up in the worst way. The words that had Dylan’s eyes widen and his jaw clench before he pulled that trigger and blew Harold Langford’s brains out.If you think she’ll ever stop being a whore, you’re wrong.

So I lie.

“He kept saying we were bastards, and that we’d pay.” The lie sits heavy in my mouth, lie after lie about what happened that night. But Stella doesn’t need to know.

She scoffs, gazing back out the window. “And pay you did.”

“I’m sorry.”

She looks back at me with a pained expression. “If your mother knew, if she planned it…”

“She did. I’m sure she did. Iverson wasn’t lying. He was desperate, thought we’d show him mercy in exchange for information. There’s no doubt in my mind that he knew.”

“You’re going to kill her.” It’s not a question. Stella’s eyes drop to her lap. “I know you’re going to. I know it.”

I reach across and take her hand, pulling her closer to me again, desperate to feel her warmth and not lose her in this darkness. “Hey, listen to me, we’re going to make this right.”

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