"Now, Brody." My voice stronger than I feel. "Tell me right now."

"Rick Kemper was running—" He stops, watching my face crumble.

I hope he doesn’t say it. I pray that my mom’s stories don’t align with this truth. The truth rises like bile in my throat. My mom… I start to sob. My poor mom that I love more than I love myself. I’m only here in this world because Rick Kemper is a fucking monster, her demon that chased her around for my entire life. My life was his mockery. I have his last name because she needed him to know that what he was doing was wrong. I was his curse, and he’s why she turned to drugs to escape her own skin, why she'd wake up screaming some nights. I'd always thought her paranoia was the drugs talking. But it was the trauma, it was too much for her. She couldn’t handle it.

My legs give out. Brody catches me before I hit the floor, but I'm already shattering. Sobs tear through me, violent and unstoppable. He holds me against his chest as I break apart, my bare skin pressed against his shirt, but nothing matters except this tsunami of truth.

He hasn’t even said the word, hasn’t even confirmed it, but I feel it in my bones, it’s been the reason why I feel like I never belonged here, why I questioned my own existence, an unwanted life.

The reason why I’m alive is because my sperm donor did the unthinkable to my mother, and he kept feeding her drugs to keep her quiet. I lean over the toilet and vomit.

Mom's addiction, her fears, her warnings about men who seem too good to be true—it was all because of what he did to her. What he did to countless others. And I carry his blood in my veins. I retch again as Brody holds me. I thought something was wrong with me for liking the darkness, but apparently that’s where I come from.

"Are you okay, Lola?" Brody asks, bringing me back to earth. Right now my mind is racing through my memories, confirming all my fears that I shouldn’t be here. I was a mistake. A forced upon mistake.

"I shouldn’t be here," I cry. My chest bounces as sobs leave my chest. "I shouldn’t fucking be here. He’s a fucking monster!"

Brody pulls me into him and holds me.

I plead, "Don’t fucking say it. It’s my nightmare, Brody. Please."

"Shh, Duchess. I got you, okay? You’re safe. You’re safe, baby. I got you."

My face is nestled on his chest as he holds me. The raw reality is caught in my throat as I focus on the sound of his heartbeat. It’s racing as his big hands start massaging my back. My entire body aches.

He whispers, "You’re safe. I’m not going anywhere."

He rests his chin on the top of my head as tears stream down my face. I cling onto the towel wrapped around me. I hear heavy footsteps and then the bathroom door swings open.

Caleb barges in and then retreats back out. "Shit! Sorry. Brody, we gotta go. Pack your shit. There’s not a lot of time."

Brody releases me. "What’s going on?"

"Don’t leave anything behind. They’re coming." He steps around the corner and meets my eye. "You need to come with us."

"I need clothes," I argue.

He shakes his head. "Rick Kemper is dead which means––"

My gut twists because I know how this goes. "They’re coming after us."

He nods. "Noah has a place. We’ll be protected."

I inhale, not worried about classes because it’s the start of fall break. Looks like we’ll be hiding out for the next week.

Chapter 28

Lola drowns in my old Ravens hockey shirt, her legs bare beneath borrowed shorts. The sight of her in my clothes does something to my chest. Noah's safe house smells like old money and secrets— the kind of place rich people keep for bodies that need burying.

The bedroom at the end of the hall hasn't seen life in months. Dust motes dance in what little sunlight filters through heavy curtains. Lola hasn't spoken since her breakdown in my bathroom, since learning what kind of monster gave her life.

"Am I still safe?" Her voice sounds young and uncertain.

"You’re safe. Nobody touches you." My promise feels carved in stone.

She watches me head for the door. "Different room?" Her voice is small.

I drop my bag, the thud echoing in the empty space. "You're mine, Duchess. Remember?" The words come out gentler than intended. "I’m staying in here with you."