Page 67 of The Truths We Burn

“We need a favor, Sage,” Frank says gently as if soft-spoken words will make me forgive him.

I sneer. “Go fuck yourself.”

“I wanted to be civil about this, Pip. Remember that.”Cain calmly folds his hands together. “Your father is asking nicely. I’m not. You are going to cooperate with us, or I’ll send you somewhere a lot worse than a mental institution.”

Pip.

I hate that name.

“Like where, a sex trafficking ring?”I laugh, not needing to hide it from either of them that I know about it. “You know, I’m not even surprised that you’re involved in this, Cain.” I lean down closer to him, the smell of his aftershave making me nauseous. It’s the same one that clung to my sheets at the lake house. “Do you buy little girls from them? Is there a video of you being blackmailed out there too? Is that how they have the big bad FBI agent in their pocket?”

Eyes like pits stare into my own, his jaw clenches, and his composure slowly melts away. “I never hurt you. I loved you, Sage.”

“Is that what kind of sick lie you tell yourself? Is that how you’re able to look at yourself in the mirror?”

My gut twists, entirely bewildered at how fucked in the head a person must be to justify what he did.

“Regardless of what happened in the past, you will help us, or you’ll be wishing you did. There are people out there who are capable of things a lot worse than I am, trust me.” His voice is scornful, something he probably uses on criminals on a day-to-day basis. He thinks he will be able to scare me into helping him.

“Leave.” I glare. “There is nothing I can do to help you and nothing you can say that will change my mi—”

“Rook Van Doren.”

A pen drops in the corner of the room.

And I choke on everything I wanted to say before this moment.

My agitation becomes fuel to his memory.

Being trapped inside padded walls with nothing from your past life means your mind is your best friend and, for me, my worst enemy.

I feel him like a third-degree burn all over. My skin blisters in remembrance. My charred bones rattle as they turn to ash all over again.

His name, a thought of his face, a nightmare, it shoves me into an incinerator every single time.

The worst part is he’s the only relief to the stinging.

The flame and the extinguisher.

“What would I know about a Hollow Boy?” My interest is piqued, but I keep that to myself.

“Easton was nice enough to let us know about your…relationship with him last year. We know you were involved.”

Fucking prick.

“Even if I was—” I shove my hands into the pocket of my jacket. “—I don’t see what it has to do with you two or your fucked-up lives.”

If they found out about Rook, I would have to play this smart. They can’t find out how much I cared about him. They would use him as leverage, and he’s the last bit they have.

He’s the last thing I have any regard for.

“Certain members of the Halo—”

“The Halo? You’re kidding, right? You named a sex trafficking organization the Halo?” Shock is on my face, but neither of them bats an eye.

All those girls missing, their lives ended for cash, and there is no one looking for them, while these assholes walk around calling it Halo as if it’s just another business.

“The name is trivial, Sage. Members have gone missing. One of them has just turned up dead.” He clears his throat, pushing a cream folder towards me to look at. “Greg West, his body completely dismembered and soaked in bleach, left at the same place your sister’s body was found. Whoever did it is trying to send a message.”

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