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He tried to breathe while his heart ran manic. His mind still spun, and his body throbbed from the blows he’d taken.
One after another.
But he’d gladly taken them for her before he’d retaliated, turned the full force of his strength on the piece of shit who was supposed to love and protect his sister but instead had tormented her for years.
Their mother was too fucking gone over the bastard to ever stand for what was right. Turning a blind eye to the abuse. Accepting it for her children. Accepting it for herself.
Over the years, River had tried to stand against him, but he’d been too young and too weak.
Not this time. Not this time.
He drove under the cover of night, having no fucking cluewhere they were going, but knowing there was no chance in hell he’d ever return his sister to that hellhole.
A whimper rolled out of her, and he reached out to set his hand on her knee. She flinched, and he had to fight with everything he had against the urge to turn the car around and go back and end the motherfucker once and for all.
The thirst for it crawled through him, so compelling he didn’t know how he resisted it, other than knowing he had to get his sister to safety.
Permanently.
“Where are we going?” she finally whispered into the flickering dimness.
He glanced at her as they passed beneath the lights that lined the city street. “Someplace safe,” he promised her.
Somewhere he could protect her.
Somewhere that piece of shit could never get to her again.
Only he had nothing. Nothing but his hands and his determination to survive. His determination to see his sister thrive.
He rented them a room at a crappy motel in Hollywood, more than an hour away from their house in the suburbs, and when he went to look for a job the next day and came up short, he snagged a loaf of bread and two apples from the store on the corner.
He felt like shit about it, but he didn’t have much choice. There was nowhere to turn. No one he could trust.
He knew if he went to the cops, his sister would likely end up right back at that motherfucker’s house.
He skidded to a stop when he came out of the store and rounded the corner, catching the eye of a guy who was leaned up against the wall of the alley. He was likely close to River in age, dirty and definitely on the rough side.
He pulled in a long drag of his cigarette as he lifted his chin at River. “You want to steal somethin’, you shouldn’t walk in looking like you’re already guilty of it.”
River grunted and started to move around him.
The guy pushed from the wall, his attention dropping to the bulge in River’s shirt where he’d stuffed the food.
“You hungry?” the guy asked, eyeing River in speculation.
“It’s for my sister.”
The guy nodded like he got it, and he angled his head. “Name’s Theo. You should probably come with me.”
TWELVE
RIVER
“Whose fuckin’terrible idea was this, anyway?” I grumbled from where I sat at the back of Kane’s booth at the festival, nursing a lukewarm beer from a disposable cup.
He’d rented one of those large canopy tents like you’d see at a wedding since there’d been no question that his was going to be the most sought-after attraction. The sides had been left open, and long tables lined the front where five of his staff filled beers from the rows of kegs as fast as they could.
No one was surprised the lines were unending.
