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to know. Then again,
to me, the entire store was the murder scene.
    A door squeaked from behind me.
    Dad was there, a little more
cleaned up. He was in fresh clothes and had splashed a lot of aftershave on his
face. He walked with a limp toward me.
    “You better get moving,” he said.
    “Why?”
    “You know…”
    “Not about Jace. About Mom. The
store. The truth.”
    Dad shook his head. “Ava, the truth
doesn’t always set someone free. Sometimes, the truth is a prison. A terrible
prison. Understand me?”
    “No, I don’t.”
    I took a step and Dad reached for
me. “Please tell me you don’t hate me.” He reached into the breast pocket of
his shirt and took out a piece of paper. He forced me to take it.
    “I don’t think I could ever hate
you. You’re my father. I just don’t understand any of this. I’m let down. I’m
hurt. This isn’t the life I asked.”
    Dad nodded.
    He reached into his back pocket and
took out a flask.
    “Are you serious?” I asked.
    “The demons are loud,” he whispered
as he threw the flask back.
    That was all I could handle.
    I left the store with a lump in my
throat and fresh tears in my eyes. I got into my car and stuck the key in the
ignition and had a sudden sense of fear. That the car was going to explode. I
looked in the mirror and saw Dad standing at the store, holding the door open.
    Everything was wrong.
    I shut my eyes and started the car.
    It didn’t blow up.
    I drove away, unfolding the piece
of paper he gave me. It had an address scribbled with his bad handwriting.
    What choice did I have?
    I had to go to the address. I felt
safe nowhere else… but in the arms of a stranger. An outlaw stranger. A man
with a bad past and a dark present.
    Far from the fairy tale dream I
once had about a man saving me, taking care of me, and giving me a life that
was nothing but happiness. I was on the other side of that equation. I was with
the bad guys.
    With the bad guys to be safe?
    I parked my car and climbed out.
The house looked too normal to be owned by an outlaw. That’s when I feared my
father had set me up yet again. Maybe I was being given up to Uncle Frank.
    Uncle Frank. The things he
wanted to do. The things he would do.
    I hesitated but then I saw the
motorcycle in the driveway. The second I saw it my heart started to race. I
touched my chest and collected myself. I had no idea what to do when Jace
answered the door. What to say. How to play this off.
    I was suddenly a pawn in a game
that I didn’t know a thing about.
    If Jace was my only hope at staying
alive then I’d do whatever it would take to stay alive.
    I walked to the door and knocked.
    There was no answer.
    I made a fist and pounded.
    I waited.
    Still no answer.
    From the corner of my eye I saw a
car turn on the street. It was a long, black car. Super sleek. The windows nice
and dark. It was going way too slow. My heart started to race even faster.
    The car kept coming.
    Slower… and slower …
    It almost came to a complete stop.
I slammed my hand on the door, over and over. I grabbed the handle and tried to
open the door but it was locked. Panic set in.
    The window on the car started to go
down.
    That’s when the door opened.
    I lunged forward, throwing my hands
to whoever answered the door.
    I looked back and saw the car
quickly speed away.
    I regained my senses and looked
forward. Staring at a tattooed and muscular chest, my hands shaking.
    I looked up and my eyes locked to
Jace’s.
    “Well, ” he said in a
tired voice, “good fucking morning to me …”
     

 
    chapter ten
     
    (jace)
     
    *THEN*
     
    I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I
definitely had some broken ribs. I rolled to my right and saw my motorcycle. It
was fucking trashed. I reached for it, wanting to scream but I had no breath to
do so.
    “Which one is it?” a voice asked.
    A hand grabbed my shoulder and
forced me to my back. A foot stepped on my chest. Then a bright light shined
down on my face, blinding me for a few seconds. I