Page 23 of Among the Sins of my Father

Surely, that fact alone should chill me to my bones. He kept her trapped against her will. There is no coming back from that. But does it warrant death, or does it warrant being locked away, just like my father is?

The world is turning black by the time I see headlights cut through the trees as a vehicle makes its way along the winding road. I watch as Barrett pulls the car to the front of the Sanctuary and Jericho disappears inside. He moves with purpose, as though he’s on a mission and it only takes a few minutes for him to come striding through the rain, his mouth in a tight line, brows pushed together. The dread that has sat in the pit of my stomach all day rises and gets caught in my throat. I lift my hand, as though begging it to stay there and not rise to the surface and confirm the nightmares that have been swirling about my head.

“What are you doing out here?” he asks, ducking to step under the shelter.

“Did you find him?”

Jericho’s gaze drops. And that’s when the dread in my throat escapes and I let out a little gasp of anguish.

He opens his mouth, but I don’t want to hear the words that I know are coming. So I talk before he does. “He’s a good person. He’s a kind person. Someone must have forced him to do what he did to Hope. There’s no way he could have done it on his own. No way he’d want to. He isn’t that sort of person. Ryker, my brother, he had to—”

“We were too late,” he says, cutting me off and reaching for me.

I move out of his grasp. I can’t help it. I can see the truth in his eyes, but I don’t want to acknowledge it. I don’t want to believe it. I don’t want him to touch me with the same hands that…

“Berkley,” he growls. “You don’t know the full story.”

“Then tell me.”

I lower myself to the seating that runs around the closed-in section of the gazebo. It’s as though the world has gone silent around us. The rain no longer sounds when it hits the gazebo roof; the wind doesn’t howl. Thunder doesn’t rumble. Lightning doesn’t crash. My heart doesn’t beat.

“Barrett found out where he was hiding. By the time we got there he’d already taken his own life.”

I stand again, needing distance between us. I cross my arms over my chest as though they will somehow protect my heart from breaking. “I don’t believe you.”

His gaze is unflinching. “He hung himself, Berkley. There was nothing I could do.”

A sob is wrenched from me. I fight the tears, fight the images of Jericho hoisting Dominic’s limp body into the air. My fists ball at my sides. I take another step back and then another until I’m exposed to the rain.

“Berkley,” Jericho steps toward me, but I turn and run, wanting to be anywhere but where he is.

chapter nine

BERKLEY

Dominic’s easy laughter and rolling eyes flash through my mind as I push myself harder and harder through the rain. I enter the Sanctuary through the kitchen and sprint down the hallway toward the dance studio, not caring about the wet footprints I leave in my wake. The doors slam when I shove my way through them, the sound echoing around the empty room. I push the buttons on the stereo frantically, bringing up the song to which Dominic and I danced a duet long before any of this mess happened. Back when I was just a girl who wanted to dance, and he was just a boy who shared the same dream.

And then I lay in the middle of the floor with the lights off, my body soaked and cold, and just listen. I let the music carry me away to a world unperverted by the desires of the men around me.

When we performed for the company, Dominic danced alone at the start of the song. He would start by leaning over me, my head turned to the side while he shadowed my movements without touching. Then I stayed on the floor, just as I am now, as he powerfully twisted and turned his body, having trained it to perfection.

It’s as though something or someone controls me when the music gets to the part where I joined in. My body rises from the floor and I imagine Dominic beside me. Our movements are schooled by violent and savage choreography. We kick high into the air. We fight and we fall. Wild tears run down my face as the music fades, knowing that our routine was left with Dominic reaching for me, lying alone on the floor.

But when the next song plays, I keep dancing. It’s messy and angry and sad. I dance until I’m exhausted. I dance until the image of Dominic fades. I dance until I can barely breathe. And when I’m finally done, feeling ragged and torn, I look up to find Jericho leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching me.

I’m on the ground on all fours, chest heaving, wet clothes clinging to my body. Jericho just stands there with this look on his face. It’s part arrogance, part lust, part indifference. Music fills the air once again and I crawl across the floor, drawing out my movements, keeping my eyes fixed on him. He pulls himself away from the wall, uncrossing his arms to let them fall at his sides as he watches. There’s desperation and pleading in my movements but, as the music swells, so does the feeling inside and I pull myself to my feet, standing in front of him, almost pressed to his chest.

We’re face to face. Eye to eye. I don’t know whether he’s going to grab me and crush me against him or toss me aside. His breath washes over my face as his nostrils flare. It’s as though we’re battling in an invisible war. He takes a step closer. So close his chest pushes against mine.

Then his hand wraps around the back of my neck and forces my mouth onto his. I fight with my impulse to grab onto him, let him devour me, and my impulse to push him away.

The latter wins. I shove him, pushing him against the wall and he stays there, a wicked grin on his face, eyes flashing with provocation. He runs his hand through his hair as he straightens himself and advances on me again.

“What is it you want from me, Berkley?”

I take a few hurried steps backward. “Did you kill him?”

He keeps striding forward, his face twisted into beastly glee.

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