Page 56 of Endgame
Rightfully so.
When I’m done with my revenge, there’ll be nothing left of this little group.
Two out of the four families won’t be able to sustain it.
Let it all fall apart. See if I care.
Which brings me back to Stafford’s point.
These people shouldn’t matter. I don’t even need them.
The wealth I’ve inherited and gained throughout my career could last me a million lifetimes. A fresh start in another state, country, or continent is within reach. It’s as easy as snapping my fingers.
But no, I’m not done here.
“Your family wouldn’t have wanted this for you.” Stafford is closer, quieter. He loved my family. He also cares about the living, and that’s me. “Call it off. We’ll go get wasted together.”
“No.”
“Everett. I’m begging you to reconsider.”
On the outside, he might be a carbon copy of his dad and older brothers, Arnold and Maverick, who sit behind their parents.
On the inside, he’s the polar opposite. Less cutting. Far less cruel and calculating.
They hated it when he broke his trust fund at twenty-one and started a non-profit organization to help runaway girls.
They didn’t understand why Lotus’s disappearance affected him as profoundly as it had.
I did.
Someone killed the girl he loved and he couldn’t do anything to save her. She probably died alone, and some stray dog or wild animal dragged her body off to feed its young.
Whatever pity I’d had for Aurora gets swept away by these gut-wrenching memories and speculations.
I’m the world’s biggest joke for ever feeling anything but contempt for her.
“You know what my family would’ve wanted?” Other than the bright future that was ahead of us. “Really wanted?”
“Each other’s love.” Safford’s desolation twists my heart.
“That. And to live.” God, all three of them were good. Kind. Humble.
I miss playing tennis with my dad. The dry thwack of the ball hitting his racket. The way he’d call me “champ” when I got a shot past him.
I miss listening to Mom tell stories about our family history. How she’d tease me about having her stubbornness.
And Lotus, my only sibling. She trusted me. She trusted all of us.
I miss them.
I’ll never have them again.
“Of course, but?—”
“Can I give them that, Stafford?” I turn to him fully. “Can I show them how much I love them? Can I hug them?” The tightness in my chest is infuriating. It burns. “Can I bring them back somehow? Turn back time and save them?”
His shoulders slump. “You can’t.”
