Page 25 of Vengeful Rotten Casualties

She has to be. We’ll make sure of it.

“I’ve been planning this for a long time, Luc,” she says quietly. “And I’ll tell you this now. I burned down the Kincaid estate for a reason. I sent a message to your father. I’m not leaving until he’s dead and our sister is safe.”

“You’re not leaving at all,” I reply. “And you’re not fucking alone.”

“Even if he’s your father?” she asks quietly.

I grit my teeth. If I could slice open my veins and dump all of the toxic blood that’s half his, I would. But it’s not possible. “He’s never been my fucking father,” I say. “You’re more important.”

“Not anymore,” she says. “I can’t be.” She inhales and the hatred in her eyes fades. “She’s alone and she’s probably scared. She can’t protect herself.”

Like you could?I bite my tongue as the words pour through my head. Five years. Five years where I had no clue where she was or what was happening to her. Only for her to end up back here, new scars in her eyes, and danger on her tail.

Micki stands. “Thank you for letting me explain,” she says, turning her gaze to Avalon. “I’m … well, I’m really glad that we met again.”

Avalon stands. “You’re not leaving, are you?” She glances back to Dean quickly before returning to Micki. “You can stay here if you—”

“She’s with me,” I say, cutting her off. As if I’ll let her out of my sight any time soon.

Micki smiles at Avalon. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine and I’m sure we’ll probably see each other again.” She turns to Rylie. “I assume Luc has your information. I’ll send all the information I have through him. I’ve been searching for her ever since I found out, but other than her existence, I’ve really struggled.”

“I’m sure you had other stuff on your plate,” Rylie says quietly, her eyes cutting around the room.

Micki smirks. “Yes, you could say that.”

Fuck it. I’m done. I stand as well and latch onto Micki’s arm. “I’ll contact you later,” I say. “For now, we have some things to discuss.” I glance at Micki as I pull her closer to me. “In private.”

Starting with the truth about her life for the last five years.

12

MICKI

Luc Kincaid was oncea boy I loved, and if I’m being honest—a large part of me still loves him. He was the one that helped me when I was younger. The one who gave me hope—even in the beginning of my days with Thomas Kincaid.

For some reason, I always wondered if he would come to save me. It didn’t take me long to realize that he was just as trapped as I was. Still, that never made me hate him. I never resented him. Only loved him all the more, and maybe I always will. Regardless, it’s that part that made me come back. I didn’t have to; I know that. My revenge might not require him, butIdo. I need him in a way that I’ve never needed anyone or anything. Not even my mom.

He doesn’t seem bothered by the knowledge of our mutual sibling. More than that, he seems angry about my presence. My responses. I can’t help it. I release a breath as he parks in front of a brick-faced house. It’s not necessarily big enough to be considered a mansion, but we did have to pass through a set of iron gates with a code to get here. That combined with the security cameras set up around the property is enough for me to consider this place safe for now.

“Luc.” He stiffens when I call his name, and instead of responding he merely turns off the car and gets out. I watch as he marches up the steps of the house and my own hand goes to the door handle before I climb out of the car. “Luc!” I call after him once more, but he still doesn’t respond and instead, he leaves the front door hanging wide open as he disappears inside.

Whether he means it to be an invitation or not, I take it as one and as I enter the house, I turn and close the door behind me, and then, after a beat, I lock it. The sound of glass clinking draws me into the open space of the kitchen. It’s built like it’s meant for a professional to use—a chef with years of experience and every available convenience of his or her craft. Wide open spaces between the island, double ovens, and a flat electric stove top with invisible buttons. And at the center of it all, Luc stands with his hands braced on either side of the wide stainless steel sink, a crystal glass of amber liquid at his side and the glass cabinet in the corner hanging open.

“I’m trying to figure it out,” he finally admits.

I wait a beat, but he doesn’t say anything more. “Figure out what?” I ask.

“You.” He gestures to me. “Me.Her.Our fucking sister.” He shakes his head and lifts the glass to his lips taking a long swallow. “And what the fuck happened to us and to you.”

“People don’t stay the same forever,” I tell him. Especially when they stop feeling human.

“I’ve asked you why you came back,” he says. “Why now?” He grits his teeth and his hand clenches around the glass in his palm. “When I first saw you in the parking lot, I thought … fuck I thought I’d finally cracked. That I was hallucinating. Then when you became real, I thought maybe you came back for me. But that’s not it, is it?”

It’s a valid question, but not one I think I have a good answer to. I could tell him that I came back to take revenge for what was stolen from me. I could tell him that I came back as a final goodbye. In the end, though, the truth is far simpler than that.

“I did come back for you,” I say. “And for her.” Because I need him and so does our sister.

“Did you even think about coming back before you found out about her?” he asks.

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