It takes every ounce of self-control to keep still as Payton falls asleep against me.
There’s so much rage flowing through me.
Rage and regret, because I regret Arthur’s quick death more than I regret any other sin I’ve ever committed.
I should’ve let her watch. Should’ve let her spit in his face as he gasped for his last breath.
The file King got me on Arthur showed most of his friends as deceased. And that piece of shit Bobby, better hope he’s fucking dead already.
Pressing my nose to her hair, I do feel a slight sense of achievement over burning the house down, wiping it from existence.
Payton shifts in her sleep, burrowing further into my side.
I need to do right by her.
But that means keeping her away from my world, and away from me.
It’s what she deserves.
