Sibby dances in the living room, her polka-dot covered feet swirling across the checkered tile, rejoicing in our long-awaited success, while Zade is on the television, interrupting another broadcast.
He exposed the shadow government and their control over human trafficking, stealing children and women, and selling them off for sick people. In the ten minutes he’s been speaking, he gave the world hope that the sex trade will slowly begin to die.
“Claire Williams is not the first to contribute to the sickness that infects our world, nor is she the last. One by one, I will disinfect the pests from society, and only then will we find peace. I am Z, and I am watching.”
He cuts out, once more replaced by a wide-eyed reporter, a nervous laugh tinkling from her throat.
“Who’s going to take over Claire’s spot?” Daya asks from beside me, shoving a handful of popcorn into her mouth.
I arch a brow. “You think there should still be a shadow government?” I ask curiously, grabbing my own handful and stuffing it in my face.
Daya shrugs, swallowing before answering. “Sure. I think the government should definitely be controlled by somebody, just not a person that is only interested in fixing things in this world for their own gain. We need someone who cares about the environment and advancing science and medicine without inhumane experimentation and quite literally using us as slaves. I think we’ve had enough of that shit in our history. This planet needs to be cleansed badly, and the people in charge right now? They’re not going to be the ones to do it.”
I purse my lips. “I think you’re right. I just don’t know who would do it.”
“You don’t think Zade would?”
Shaking my head, I chew on a few half-popped kernels. They’re my favorite part of eating popcorn.
“It’s hard to say for sure, but I think Zade enjoys what he does now too much. Regardless of who’s in power, it’s going to take a very long time for human trafficking to actually end. I can’t see him being content sitting behind a desk making decisions rather than being on the field and physically taking them down.”
Daya nods, her sage green eyes drifting back to the screen, the reporters still attempting to regain their footing after Zade’s interruption. Media is controlled by the government, which means everything they spew to the public is sanctioned by the very people Zade is threatening to destroy. It’s no wonder they’re uncomfortable when they’re quite literally the mouths that feed us the government’s brainwashing bullshit.
“I’ll do it,” Sibby chirps, topping off her announcement with a ballerina spin.
Daya and I glance at each other.
“You would want to rule the government? You’re mentally unstable, Sibby,” I say bluntly.
She stops spinning and narrows her eyes at me. I’ve sparred with her far too much to legitimately be scared of her anymore.
“I care about the world and cleansing it of demons. Can you imagine?” A wide, dreamy smile spreads across her face. “Living in a world of flowers? One big garden, just like the planet should be.”
“See? Unstable.”
She growls at me and stomps her foot. “I could do it, Addie. I know I have a temper, and that I’d need help. But I could fix this world,” she tells me vehemently.
Cocking my head, I actually consider what she’s saying. Sibby’s methods would need to be controlled, but… she’s admittedly the most fanatical person I’ve ever met when it comes to ridding the world of evil. Is that actually possible? Of course not. But maybe having someone who believes it is, wouldn’t be so bad. And with her knack for smelling the ones who are rotten, she could have a team of people helping her who have good intentions.
“What would you do?” I wonder.
“Wait, you actually think she could do it?” Daya cuts in incredulously, her eyes bouncing between Sibby and me.
Grinning, I shrug a shoulder. “She would be better than Claire. And she wouldn’t do it alone. Her entire purpose in life is to better this world, is it not?”
Daya’s lips part, floundering for an objection but coming up with none. Really, anyone put in that position of power could be argued against. There’s no perfect person out there. Sibby isn’t without sin, but her intentions are pure.
Oddly, she’d be the least likely to go on a power trip or be negatively influenced.
She’s too… passionate.
A light knock on the door pulls my attention away from training with Sibby. Of course, her fist is powering into my cheek a second later, nearly sending me toppling over.
Ears ringing, I grab the side of my face and glare at her. She smiles wildly at me, and she doesn’t even need to open her stupid mouth for me to know what she’s going to say.
Never look away from your opponent.
I point at her. “Never sleep with two eyes closed, how about that?”
She giggles, and heads towards the steps while I make my way to the front door, sweating profusely and my head now pounding. It pisses me off enough that I whip open the door without bothering to look who’s outside first.
My eyes widen when I find a strange man I’ve never seen before standing next to my mother.
I gape at them, too blindsided to do much else. As always, her blonde hair is perfectly coifed with a layer of light pink lipstick brightening her lips. And she’s staring at me, waiting for me to speak, but I’m incapable.
“Hey, honey,” Mom says, smiling weakly at me.
Finally shaking myself out of the stupor, my body moves on autopilot.
Leaning forward, I wrap her in the world’s most gentle hug, wary of her wound but so fucking glad to see her. Tears spring to my eyes, blurring my vision as my sinuses burn from the effort to keep them at bay.
She pats my back. “Sweetheart, you stink.”
“Sorry,” I say, but I’m not the least bit sorry at all. Blinking back the tears, I step away.
Normally, she’d turn her nose up at me, but it stays firmly in its place. It’s relieving when I haven’t seen or talked to her since the day we brought her home over a month ago. I’ve stopped calling my father, deciding that hearing his insults wouldn’t be healing for any of us.
“Why are you here? Where’s Dad? And who are you?” I question, directing the last one towards the stranger standing next to her.
Now that I’m looking at him, I’m even more confused. Light brown hair, the top messy and unruly, pretty blue eyes, and a killer smile. Almost as killer as his body. He can’t be any older than I am, yet he carries himself with refined confidence—something most men my age don’t possess.
An odd feeling prickles at my senses, though I can’t discern exactly what.
All I know is he’s fucking hot. What the hell is my mother doing with him?
“Kraven,” he answers with a smirk.
“Oh my God, is this your boyfriend?” I ask, eyes wide.
“Adeline Reilly, don’t be inappropriate. Of course, he isn’t. He’s been helping take care of me while I recover. Now let me in, I have ten seconds before I fall at your doorstep and don’t get up again.”
Dramatic as ever, I see.
Kraven smiles, dimples appearing as he grabs my mother’s arm and helps her into the house and toward the red leather couch. Dumbly, I watch them pass by, wondering how the hell she convinced my father to let someone else nurse her back to health. Especially someone who looks like… that.
And that may not be her boyfriend, but with the way her cheeks redden, she’s definitely not unaffected by him. In all honesty, if my mother ended up with a younger man… good for her.
I’d be proud.
Snapping myself out of it, I close the front door and take a seat across from her. Sibby is probably upstairs showering, and Zade is currently tracking down a dark web user who has a knack for torturing children on a live video feed.
When I’m not training with Sibby, I’m working on my new story. I’ve missed writing, and it’s served as an excellent escape now that Claire is finally dead. Pretty soon, I’ll be done with my first book since being home again, and I wholeheartedly believe it’s my best writing to date.
“How are you feeling?” I ask her, glancing at Kraven.
“Irritated,” she huffs. “Your father is driving me nuts.”
I tighten my lips, a stabbing pain in my chest with the reminder of him, but also oddly comforted that she finds him just as ridiculous as I do.
“Does he know you’re here?” I ask.
“Would it change a damn thing if he did?” she retorts. There goes her nose—hiking up in the air with superiority. It brings a smile to my face.
“I tried to see you,” I murmur.
She visibly softens. “I know you did, honey. I was too weak to do much, but I didn’t agree with your father. Regardless of your horrible taste in men, you’re my daughter and always will be.”
I give her a droll look. “Clearly, I’m not the only one with horrible taste in men,” I say pointedly.
She pauses, and then surprises me by chuckling. Now it feels like I’m the one with the gunshot wound. I mean, I’m funny, I know this. But my mother has never thought so.
“I suppose not,” she concedes. “Where is your boyfriend, by the way? I’d like to thank him.”
My brows jump in surprise, and now I wonder if Sibby hit me so hard that it sent me into an alternate universe.
“Don’t you give me that look,” she sasses. “He may be a bad influence, but he saved my life. So did that nice doctor of his.”
“He’s not here right now, but I’ll let him know.”
She nods stiffly, glancing at the ceiling when the floorboards above creak.
That may have been Sibby, but it also may not have been. Maybe it was Gigi—I haven’t seen her in a while. But that’s the fun in Parsons Manor. You just never really know.
Shifting uncomfortably, I open my mouth, readying for another apology, but she holds up a hand, silencing me.
“I know what you’re going to say. Another thing your atrocious father was wrong about. It wasn’t your fault I was shot, Adeline. I don’t remember much about what happened, and I’m grateful for it. But what I do know is that man was holding a gun to your head. And if taking a bullet in the chest means that my daughter doesn’t have one through her skull and is six feet under… then it was worth it.”
My lip trembles, fresh tears lining my eyelids. I dip my chin, working to gather my composure before I’m reduced to a blubbering mess.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice tight and raspy.
When I meet her gaze, it’s soft and almost sad. It only makes my chest ache more.
Clearing my throat, I wipe beneath my tears, preparing to change the subject.
“So uh, Kraven, why’d your parents name you that?”
Mom sighs, shaking her head at my rudeness. Whatever.
It’s a valid question.
He grins. “It’s my father’s name,” he answers shortly. Vaguely.
“Okay, Kraven Jr., what company do you work for?”
“Addie,” Mom snaps, but I ignore her. Also, a valid question.
“My mother is a traveling home health nurse, and with the patients’ permission, I tag along to help sometimes.” He shrugs a shoulder, glancing at my mother. “We all got along great, so when Serena needs assistance running errands or getting around, I give her a hand.”
Mom smiles warmly. “His mother is an absolute angel, and Kraven has been a gem, too. Your dad has been working a lot again, so the extra hand has been a big help.”
Relaxing, I nod my head, relieved that she’s been taken care of so well.
I’m typically not a suspicious person, but my fighting skills haven’t been the only thing I’ve fine-tuned over the months. My instincts are sharp, and though I don’t necessarily get a bad vibe from Kraven, I do feel like he’s not all he makes himself out to be.
Before I can get another word out, Sibby comes storming down the steps, hair wet from the shower, fresh-faced, and dressed in a royal blue t-shirt dress and big, pink bunny slippers on her feet.
Right when she goes to say something, she freezes, her entire body locking. As if in slow motion, her eyes slide to Kraven, widening when their gazes clash.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she snaps.
Goddammit. I knew there was something off about him.
Brows hiked, I turn to Mom’s caretaker, finding him just as surprised as Sibby.
“I could ask you the same thing, Sibel.”
