Page 83 of Behind the Shadows
“I tried,” I whispered, not even sure if I was talking to her or myself. “I tried to help you.”
“You did,” she said, her voice breaking as she dropped to her knees in front of me. She cupped my face as if I were fragile. “You were only a kid, Kip. You tried to stop it, but they were bigger. They were crueler.”
A choked sound ripped out of me, something between a laugh and a sob.
She touched under my eyes, thumbs brushing away something wet I hadn’t realized was there. “You didn’t kill me. You never did.”
I grabbed her wrists, hard. She didn’t pull away. She stayed, solid and soft, holding like she was trying to stitch me back together with her bare hands.
“I don’t know who the fuck I am,” I rasped.
She sank her teeth into her lower lip, but she didn’t look away. “You were the one who tried to save me,” she whispered. “And you are not your mother’s monster.”
And right then, it split—the cold, hollow place inside me, the one I’d locked up tight for years. Not clean. Not sharp. A slow, deep crack, like ice breaking under old weight.
Because deep down, where I’d buried everything, I had always known the truth was different from what I’d been told. I just wasn’t sure how different.
“I need proof, but I’m not sure we’ll ever find it. All I can tell you is that I’ve worked with people who have survived this, and they got through it.” She rubbed my back. “We’ll get through this one way or another, if you want me by your side.”
Fuck. With everything she’d said, I’d forgotten about the possible blood relation. “It depends. There’s something else we need to talk about.”
Concern flickered across her features. “Okay. You can tell me anything, Kip. I think you know that by now.”
Except this. This would fuck her up for the rest of her life when she learned she’d slept with her brother.
I licked my dry lips and swallowed.
“Holland. I—I—” I leaned my head back and stared at the ceiling, trying to form the words that refused to leave my mouth. There was no other choice, though. I had to. I looked at her, our gazes locking.
“There’s more, Holland.” I swallowed, throat raw. “I think … we’re.” I paused. “I think you might be my sister.”
36
HOLLAND
The world tilted. Not because I believed him—but because some part of me had feared this exact moment. And still, even now, with that word hanging in the air like a guillotine, all I could think about was how he’d held me when I was shaking, how he’d looked at me like I was worth saving. Was that love? Or was it just the kind of devotion trauma breeds when two people bleed beside each other for too long?
I didn’t know.
But I wanted to know.
I wanted to choose him. Not because he’d saved me, but because he saw me. And right now, that was more terrifying than any bloodline.
I stared at him like he’d grown two heads. “What?” I backed away and covered my face with my hands, the weight of his words slamming into me like a bolt of lightning. “Why would you say something like that?”
Kip’s shoulders sagged, every sharp line in his expression etched with defeat. “Because my mother … Lily … she was involved with some dangerous people, Holland. One of them helped her orchestrate your kidnapping.”
The pain on his face cracked something open in my chest. “About a year ago, that man came back into our lives. We don’t know what he wants yet. We’re trying to figure it out.”
“Can I ask who?” I wrapped my arms around myself, chasing away an invisible chill.
His gaze locked onto mine, his jaw tight. “You can’t repeat this to anyone. Pretend I’m your patient, and this is protected under confidentiality. If you breathe a word, it’ll put you in real danger. This man makes Draco look like a fucking saint.”
“You have my word,” I whispered.
Kip stood, running his palms down the front of his jeans like he needed to ground himself. “He goes by the name ‘the Pied Piper’.”
The air shifted.
