Page 145 of Cinder
“They’re like weeds. You kill one and another one appears. So yeah, I killed all of them.”
She smiles, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. “You’re amazing.”
I grin. “I know.”
She reaches up and brushes her fingers along my jaw, and I turn to Jell-O beneath her touch.
“I’m sorry,” she says, her beautiful eyes roaming my face. “I wish it never came to this. I want to say I wish he never sent me to your clubhouse. But if he didn’t, I wouldn’t have met you.”
“It happened how it meant to happen, Little Cinder,” I tell her. “Something a lot bigger than us decided how this was going to play out. Turns out that higher power had our back. That’s got to mean something.”
“It means everything.Youmean everything.”
Cupping her jaw, I kiss her, and I don’t stop kissing her until I hear the rumble of approaching motorcycles.
“The Knights are coming?” she whispers, hearing the approaching thunder of bikes.
“They’re here to help clean up.” I caress her cheeks with my thumbs. “But before they get here, baby, I need to tell you something.”
She frowns. “What is it?”
“Santo was alive. He survived the bomb that was meant to kill him and has been following you for a few weeks.”
“Santo?” Confused, she shakes her head. “Why didn’t he let me know?”
“He thought it was safer if you didn’t know. He was waiting for your brother’s downfall. He knew there would be an uprising eventually.”
“You said hewasalive. Does that mean he’s not anymore?”
“I’m sorry, baby. He died trying to fix his mistakes.”
“Does that mean he was involved with my father’s death?” she asks, a slight quiver to her chin.
“Not directly. Your father was already dead when Luca blackmailed him into convincing you he died.”
Her eyes sharpen. “My father didn’t die in the car bomb?”
“No, according to Santo, he was murdered by Luca and Viktor the night before. The car bomb was a cover-up.”
Frowning, she looks away. “This is such a mess,” she whispers.
I gently lift her chin. “You’re not a prisoner anymore. You’re safe.”
Her eyes widen as she suddenly remembers something. “Oh my God, Lars, there is someone in the basement.”
It’s like a flash of electricity zips through her, and she bolts across the foyer and down the hallway toward the kitchen.
I chase after her and stop her at the cellar door. “Wait,” I beg. “Let me go first.”
“Get out of my way, Lars?—”
“You don’t know who is down there.”
“I was just down there. I saw someone. I don’t know who. But there is someone alive down there.”
It could be anyone.
“Just this once, Little Cinder, listen to me and let me go first.”
