Page 63 of Pray for the Damned

Not that I can blame him, or even talk for that matter. The things I’ve done to keep Waverly safe would have her running for the hills.

“Are you going to tell her about your involvement in her father’s death?” I ask.

“I don’t know.”

“I think you should,” I offer. “It might go a ways to making amends.”

“And admit I’ve been following her from city to city for the last ten years? Admit I was the one that got her a new identity and was the reason her handsy landlord in Salt Lake City disappeared mysteriously? Or how I was the one that tore that fucker off her in Portland a few years ago? You think that’s going to help?”

I chuckle. “Sounds to me like you’ve been her guardian angel all these years. What girl doesn’t want someone to burn the world down for her?”

I don’t mention that I’ve done just as many, if not more, questionable things over the years for our girl, things that not even he has seen.

I’ve kept our father off her trail for years with misdirection and false leads. I’ve led him and his men on so many wild goose chases I’m astounded he hasn’t caught on. But why would he when I’ve always been the golden child in his eyes?

Emmett is the one he keeps a close eye on, who he doesn’t trust. I’m the one who will take his throne one day and dismantle it brick by brick if it means keeping Waverly safe.

“You should tell her,” I say. “Maybe leave out some of the stalking, and perhaps play down the murder a little. But explain that you helped her escape that night and felt responsible for her, so you looked out for her over the years. What’s the worst that could happen?” I shrug.

“She could run,” he points out.

“Like she just did?” I nod toward the bar.

He groans. “Why do you have to be right?”

“Because I’m the smart twin.”

A burst of laughter erupts from beside me, and I can’t help but smirk. If my brother thinking he’s smarter than me is what ittakes to get him out of his head to help me get our girl back, then I’m happy to make that sacrifice.

In fact, it seems there isn’t much I wouldn’t give up for Waverly.

Now we just have to make her see that.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

WAVERLY

Ineed to get a hold of my emotions, but every time I think I’m calming down, a new rush of anger hits me.

I’m not sure who I’m more mad at.

Obviously it should be Kade. He’s the one that impersonated his brother to get close to me. Not to mention the fact I had sex with him thinking he was Emmett. That has to be some kind of sexual assault.

And yet I don’t have the urge to report him to the police, or even Elias and Wyatt.

It was fucked up and wrong, but I enjoyed it. I loved it, in fact. It was the hottest sexual experience of my life, and calling the cops on him doesn’t sit right with me, no matter how wrong it was.

There’s also the small fact that I don’t want the police involved because they may look into my history and find that before a decade ago, I didn’t exist.

Yeah, that’s a path I really don’t want to go down.

Someone clears their throat in the doorway and I peek up from where my head is buried in my knees to find Wyatt and Leighton standing a few feet from me.

“Are you okay?” the latter asks as she carefully lowers herself to the floor beside me. She’s only a few months pregnant, but I have a feeling my bosses are overbearing as hell when it comes to her safety, especially now that she’s carrying their baby.

Her long dark hair is loose around her bare shoulders, and her light layer of makeup allows her amber eyes to pop. I thought she was beautiful at the soup kitchen, but seeing her like this just proves what lucky sons of bitches Wyatt and Elias are.

I nod. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

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