Page 165 of Crucible

“And before that?”

“Sold drugs,” she mumbles reluctantly. “But—”

“You don’t need to defend him to me, wolf. He loved you, and you loved him. That’s all that matters. What he did to survive and to provide doesn’t mean he wasn’t a good man. He just wasn’t a nice guy.”

“And they’re different?”

“Very.”

For some reason, Aurelia looks at me. Maybe she thinks I’m less jaded than Thorin because she asks, “What do you think, Khalil? Do you agree with Thorin that nice guys don’t exist?”

I don’t respond right away.

I’m stuck thinking about my own dad, who I haven’t seen or spoken to in nine years other than the occasional letter so that he doesn’t think I’m dead—sans return address, of course.

My dad is a religious man, a family man, and a workaholic. He’s quick to smile, works every day at the construction company he built from nothing, pays his taxes and tithes on time, takes care of my mom, took care of me, and is a respected member of the community.

Does that mean he doesn’t have skeletons in his closet?

I can’t bring myself to say no and believe it.

Before Zeke disappeared, before the three of us ran to this corner of nowhere, before Aurelia, I never saw myself doing any of the things I’ve done. There’s still a chance we’ll leave this mountain one day. I could get married, have kids, start a desk job at some dead-end job, and be on a first-name basis with my neighbors. And no one, except my brothers, will ever know the atrocities we committed before that.

I once thought I was a nice guy—a normal guy.

Ripping the last molar out of Jonah’s mouth, I toss his head onto the pile and watch it roll, feeling nothing but a bone-deep satisfaction that I’d kept my woman safe.

Apparently not.

“I think if there are, they won’t stay that way for long.”

“Hmmm. I’m afraid to ask. Seth?”

My gaze travels to him in time to see him shudder. “I’ve never met a nice guy.”

“What about me?” Aurelia asks. “Do you think I’m nice?”

“I think you’re perfect.”

Aurelia glowers at his nearly skillful evasion. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

Seth steps down from the log where he had been twirling Sam’s head on his finger like a basketball. “Is that what you want, Sunshine? To be a good girl?”

She doesn’t even have to think about it. “No. God, no. Tried that. Hated it.”

“Ah. You want to be bad.”

Aurelia bites into her lip and gives the smallest nod.

Seth crouches in front of her where she sits crossed-legged on the blanket he laid out for her as if we’re at a picnic. “I picked flowers for you, you know.”

“Really?” Her brown eyes brighten. “Where are they?”

“They died.”

“Oh.” Aurelia looks faintly amused as she stares back at Seth. “Well, it’s the thought that counts, I guess.”

“This is better.” Seth holds out the head he’s still holding.

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