Page 149 of Split You Open

When I inhale, I swear I smell the promise of death in the air. Admitting the truth to Anchor will be a death sentence, I’m sure of it. But I’ve seen Blair thrive. I gave her the life she wanted. What’s more? I got to taste her—something I swore I’d never indulge in, to keep her away from my darkest parts. If I die, at least I know all of this wouldn’t have been in vain.

Never one to claim to be sane, though, I don’t cower as the world’s most proficient killer stares me dead in the eye.

“—do you want Blair here because she’s a pawn in a bigger game?” he growls.

I balk, taken aback by the change of subject.

“What are you talking about?”

Anchor’s eyes narrow. “You’ve underestimated me, haven’t you?”

“You were never one to waste words, so just get straight to the point, Anchor.”

“There are only two people still alive that know about Blair. One of them knew where my daughter resided, the other wants her head. Wants my head.”

My stomach plummets.

I guessed that there had to be someone else out there that knew about Blair. It was the only reasonable explanation why whoever this Dixie fucker is would go to such extreme lengths to get to her.

“You put out the hit, didn’t you?” Anchor presses. “And you gave away my location and Blair’s. You put her in danger.”

The sheer audacity of accusing me of putting his daughter in danger has me laughing. Hard. The sound carries around in the darkness. My hand comes to rest on my stomach as it continues.

This fucking bastard…

“Yeah,” I admit after composing myself. “I did put the hit out on you two. Did that put her in danger? Sure. Did I intend for it to get so fucking out of hand? Fuck no. I thought this shit would’ve been nipped in the bud by now and we’d all go on our merry fucking way. So, for that, I’m sorry. No, she was never a pawn—you conspiracy theorist asshole. I just fucking wanted her for myself. I wanted—no, needed—her here.”

I swear the devil stares back at me, using Anchor as a vessel. Oh, he’s really fucking pissed.

I don’t care. I push on, adding, “But don’t you dare fucking stand there and accuse me of doing something shitty when you put her in more danger than I ever could.”

Anchor stiffens. “What the fuck did you just say?”

“You heard me,” I sneer. “Don’t pretend like I didn’t end up talking you out of killing her countless times.”

Anchor’s glare promises death. “She’s still here, isn’t she?”

“No thanks to you.” I point at him as I step forward.

“It’s all thanks to me! I gave up⁠—”

“Nothing!” I bellow. “You gave up nothing to keep her around! You lived your life however the fuck you wanted and you dragged Blair along for the ride. But I sure as shit remember a few times when I had to step in to save her life from you.”

Anchor’s strike comes swiftly and unyielding. His fist slams against my jaw with a force that sends me staggering away. Blood fills my mouth instantly. Straightening, I turn to face Anchor and spit the blood in his face.

He doesn’t even flinch.

“Rats are better parents to their offsprings than you were to Blair,” I taunt.

I’m making things worse, but fuck does it feel good to pull this fucker down off his high horse. Anchor always thinks he’s right. It’s his way or no way.

Anchor steps closer, his body still relaxed despite the darkness swirling around in his eyes. “My daughter has always been safest with me.”

“Until you grew tired of towing her around,” I growl.

Anchor lunges at me. I duck as his fist comes swinging around again. This time, I fight back. I shove at him before rushing forward. I use the momentum for when I bring my right fist around to hit him in the face—in the exact spot he’d hit me. Anchor stumbles but I don’t give him time to recover like he’d given me. My left fist slams into his gut but when I go for a right upper cut, Anchor sidesteps it and his fist strikes me in the stomach.

We grapple, both snarling and furious as the other tries to get the upper hand.