Read His Passion for Free Online Page A

she’d even dig deep and find whatever dust bunny wrapped pieces of maturity she had and grow up.
    Just let it go.
    I ignored my own advice. “Did you just throw something at me?”
    “So perceptive,” she goaded. “I see why they pay you the big bucks.”
    I opened my mouth to rip into her but had the presence of mind to just clamp my lips together and draw a few breaths to lower my blood pressure. Was this what having a younger sibling was like? Never ending, irrational annoyance? I was waiting for her to stick her tongue out or start poking me until I lost my mind.
    I kept my hands at 10 and 2, refusing to take the bait. From Cole's sudden silence, I had a feeling he was struggling to bite his tongue too.
    “I guess I'm going to have to address the elephant in the room,” Brittany sighed dramatically. I expected her to go into her captivity, the awful things she endured. Not out of a need to be clear, to begin the healing process—to make her brother feel more guilty and find out if I could grip the wheel any tighter without ripping it from the car altogether.
    There was a tense, swollen silence that passed around the circle, waiting for her to drop the graphic bomb that detailed her captivity.
    “So...” She teased us and held out the syllable as long as possible. “What now?”
    “Back to the hotel,” Cole answered quickly. Almost relieved. “We'll get you cleaned up, get Leila, then head back home.”
    “Leila?” The glee in her voice turned my stomach. “The gang's all here!”
    “That's it.”
    I swerved into the next lane, ignoring the driver who laid on his horn. I didn't care if I was blocking an exit or if I was holding up traffic. I'd have to support the obnoxious American stereotype for a few minutes. I refused to drive another inch until I made some things crystal clear.
    I faced her, making sure I had her attention. She had the same smug look she'd had the first time we met and I stifled the desire to grab her by the shoulders and shake sense into her. I knew she had mental issues; that her childhood and life had twisted her in ways that I'd never understand, but I refused to let her think that my wife was fair game.
    “I don't know what you have planned, but I don't want you to say a word to Leila, Brittany.”
    She cleared her face of anything offensive, but the faux concern was just as frustrating. “You don't want me to talk to her?”
    “I don't even want you to breathe in her direction,” I clarified icily.
    She bit her bottom lip, crestfallen. It might have been believable if I didn't know how manipulative she was. While I was haunted by the things I'm sure she saw and had to do to survive, I had to silence the desire to take it easy on her and give her the benefit of the doubt. Beneath the bruises and the way she made her chin tremble practically on cue, I knew she was dangerous. She wouldn't respond well to concern. I needed to be hard, my words strict and clear.
    “I am sorry for what happened to you. Truly. And for your sake, and your brother's sake-”
    “ Our brother's sake,” she chimed sweetly.
    I ignored her, locking my steely glare on her. “It doesn't mean that I have forgotten what you did to Leila. I will never forget what you did to her.”
    She opened her mouth, but Cole reached for her. She looked ready to tell him to go to hell, but their silent exchange made the tense lines in her body soften.
    Cole glanced at me and nodded for me to continue
    “I need you to understand and agree to not speak to her. To not make any double edged comments about what you did to her.” I knew my wife and knew that she might speak to Brittany. Knowing the girl, I pictured her pointedly ignore Leila's attempts at clearing the air which was just as hurtful, so I made the tiniest exception. “If she speaks to you, of course you can respond. Or not. I'm not asking you to ignore her. I'm asking you not to disrespect her and spit on the gift that she has given you.”
    “And what