Page 75 of Among the Sins of my Father

Someone kneels before me. The world is tinted in red. I can’t make out their face, but I know the voice.

“Jericho!” I lift my arms and he scoops me up, holding me tightly against his chest.

I laugh. I cry. I collapse against him.

He holds me so tightly it hurts. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?”

I don’t answer and instead, search for his lips. The metallic taste of blood coats our lips but I don’t care. I’m still laughing, still crying as our lips crash against each other. My hands cup his face.

“You’re here,” I say, attempting to look at him through the splatters of blood that still stain my eyes.

He wipes his thumb across my cheekbone. “I’m here,” he says. “You’re safe.”

I let out a sob, barely believing it to be true. Part of me thinks Michael has drugged me again and this is all some narcotized dream.

But then Jericho pulls away from me, holding me at arm’s length and my eyes fall to the body slumped on the ground behind him.

“Michael?” I utter his name.

Jericho grips my face, directing my gaze back to him. “He’s gone. Don’t think about him. I need you to get Ette. Hope is waiting in the car and I need you to take Ette to her and then stay there until I return. Can you do that?”

“What about the guards? What about the—”

Jericho presses his lips to mine again, silencing my words. “They’ll be taken care of. All you need to do is get Ette and get out of here. Can you do that? Do you know where she is?”

I nod, my vision starting to return as Jericho’s face comes into focus. Splatters of Michael’s blood are across his skin. His brow is bunched with worry.

“I’ve got to go, okay? Can you do what I asked?”

I nod, swallowing the fear at the back of my throat.

“Good,” he says. “Good.” He lets go of me. “I’m not finished.” And then he stalks into the night, toward the house.

chapter twenty-eight

HOPE

We’d stayed hidden as the guests drifted from the party and into the waiting cars. Jericho had prowled like a caged animal, anger visibly rippling through his body.

They’d thrown him out of the party, just as he knew they would.

Then he’d waited for his revenge.

“Stay in the car,” he ordered as he, Barrett, and the team they’d assembled slipped into the night.

I did. But not for long.

The house is fully lit as I creep toward the main entrance. Music seeps from indoors but there are no accompanying voices. No sound of life at all. It’s as though everyone has disappeared, hiding from the failure of the party.

The door creaks as I push it open. I’m greeted by an eerily empty entranceway. My footsteps are clipped against the tiled flooring. The music floating through the house is familiar, but I don’t know why.

It’s classical. Theatrical. Haunting.

I move into a room scattered with memories of the party. There’s food on the tables. Discarded glasses, still half full on the mantle. Lights still glow amongst tulle draped down walls and twisted around chandeliers. The music is louder in here. It encourages the heavy beating of my heart, urging my blood to flow faster.

I find the stairs and creep up them, eyes continuously scanning for signs of life. Unlike the first level of the house, this one is dark. In the dim light, I pass by closed doors, wondering if Ette is behind any of them. But for now, she is not my focus. She is not who I seek.

There’s an open door at the end of the hallway. Blue light flickers from its opening. My fingers close around the knife in my hand. In my other hand, my fingers are gripped around the cold metal of a gun. Barrett gave it to me before he left. He told me it was for protection. But I think he knew what I was planning. He knows what I have to do to find peace.

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