Page 42 of The Prodigal

“Did you think I was lying?” I shoot her a glare as she returns to my side, out of breath.

“No. I just thought it was going to be a pen or something that I couldn’t use. I didn’t want to get my hopes up.”

She didn’t want to get her hopes up.

I try not to let her admission stir the rage that lurks under my skin. How many times has she been disappointed? How many times has she been let down?

My chest tightens as I watch her uncap the marker and flash me a grin. “I won’t tell if you want to add your name, too.”

And this is why I’m not nice to people. They think just because I didn’t mock their dumb idea that I want to participate in it. “No, thanks.” I nudge her toward the sign. “I only write on bathroom doors at the Gas ‘N Go.”

I deadpan. “It’s better than Tinder.”

She belts out this deep belly laugh. “You’re lying. There’s no way you would give anyone your phone number, let alone strangers visiting a gas station bathroom.”

She would be correct. Talking to people is equivalent to being suffocated by fresh air. I hate it.

“I’m going to leave if you don’t hurry.”

I don’t have time for her thinking she knows me.

“Gah. You’re always so testy.”

Testy isn’t the word most people use to describe me. But, then again, Eden isn’tmostpeople, especially when she takes her time writing her fucking name on a street sign. Does she think someone will come by and judge the best handwriting?

“Okay. Done.” She turns and hands me the marker. “I wrote your name anyway.”

She shrugs and then snaps a picture of the back of the sign, then my face—which likely resembles an angry grizzly. But there’s no use in exploding. She’ll just act like a golden retriever and smile anyway. “Get in the fucking car.”

“Yes, sir!” She salutes me, and it’s anything but funny.

“I swear to G—”

“Don’t swear to God,Adam,” she chides. “You might not like his response.”

I’m going to kill her.

Lunging, I narrowly miss grabbing her before she darts off to the car, laughing the whole way.

I should turn around and drag myself to the meeting Grant has such a hard-on for. Eden can go back to work, and I can carry out my revenge without her. It’s not like I really need her…but she wanted to help. And I want her to hate Albrecht as much as I do.

I want her to hate herfather.

Albrecht left Eden with parents who tried to kill her.

He left her there to die, just as he did me.

Whether Eden knows it or not, this revenge will be for her, too.

Albrecht screwed us both.

He took our childhoods and scarred our souls.

Now, it’s his turn to suffer.

And what better way than at the hands of his own daughter—his own flesh and blood.

I couldn’t have written a better ending.

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