I don’t know how to answer that. Jericho stays away because he knows his younger brother despises him for what he thinks he did, but he still refuses to tell him the truth.
“But they—” He clears his throat. “They got rid of Keating, didn’t they? Did they get rid of Dominic too?”
I swallow, the image of Aaron Keating falling to the floor blinding me for a moment. In the end, all I can do is nod. “But not Dominic. In the middle of it all, he took off.”
“So he’s still out there?”
I nod again. “Somewhere.”
“And who did it? Who was the one to—” he runs a finger across his throat “—do the deed?”
“It was Barrett,” I say quickly. I don’t add that Jericho gave the order. Nor do I add that Jericho and I sat in the car while Barrett dealt with Mary. The thought of it makes me feel nauseated and my stomach twists. I take a deep breath, willing away the flashes as Gideon watches me curiously.
“You still don’t see it, do you?”
“What?” I ask, letting my breath out in a gush. Overhead the voices grow louder but they’re still too muffled to hear any words clearly.
“What he’s really like. Who Jericho really is.”
“And I suppose you’re going to tell me.”
“He’s a cold-hearted killer. There’s something wrong with him,” Gideon taps his head, “up here. He can’t see that what he does—”
“Just stop,” I say, getting to my feet. “I know you hate him and I know why. But maybe you don’t know everything, Gideon. Maybe there are things he’s protecting you from.”
Gideon doesn’t respond. He sits with his head hung low. But then he swings it up and peers at me. “How’s your father doing? What do you think Jericho will do now that he has no use for him?”
“He can do whatever he likes. I don’t care.”
Gideon smirks. “Yes you do. You haven’t suffered enough to truly understand the desire of wanting someone dead. Deep down, it’s not something you’d ever have the courage to do.”
“And I suppose you would?”
Gideon pulls himself up. “Nope. But that’s the difference between my brother and me. He thinks he has the right to take someone’s life.” He shrugs as though we’re talking about something insignificant. “I don’t.”
chapter six
JERICHO
I follow Hope into her room. She sits on the floor, back to the wall, knees drawn to her chest. She scowls when I lower myself to sit beside her. I don’t say anything, just sit in silence, waiting for her to talk.
“I thought I’d be happy once I was free.” She speaks so quietly I have to lean in closer just to hear her. “I thought I’d walk around, grateful for every breath of air, just pleased to be alive.”
“And you’re not?”
She shakes her head slowly. The years have been both gentle and harsh with her. Her hair is long, trailing far past her shoulder blades. It’s thinner than I remember. She used to keep it cropped in a tight bob, always perfectly framing her face. Now it hangs in unkempt strands shouting of her time spent in captivity. Her clothing hangs loosely from her frame, covering her arms, but I’ve already seen the scars. The state of her broke my heart when I saw her naked and scared, handcuffed to the bath. It was a moment of pure joy and sheer terror. Relief and sadness. But she’s just as beautiful as she’s always been. Her smile is the same, and her laughter, both things I’ve only witnessed when she’s been around Ette.
“I’m angry, so, so angry. It’s like there’s this rage inside me and I can’t get it out. I want revenge.”
“On Dominic?”
“On everyone,” she says. “On every man who thought he had the right to control me, to own me, including the father of your little fuck-bunny.” She glances at me. “She even looks like him.”
I snort, choosing to ignore the first comment about Berkley, only focusing on the second. “She does not.”
“You wouldn’t know. You haven’t looked into his eyes.”
She has no idea I’ve had him locked away for months. She doesn’t know how many times my fists have flown into his flesh. She doesn’t know I’ve looked into his eyes and seen the evil reflected in there. They are nothing like Berkley’s.