Destroyed(82)

Moving forward swiftly, I grabbed Clara and pressed her against my legs, imprisoning her with my arms around her neck. She squirmed, but let me contain her.

The third and final life changing event came in the form of Clara’s innocent question.

“Mummy, I want to see Roan’s animal collection. Don’t make me go home yet, okay?”

Roan?

Roan.

His true name.

My eyes shot to Fox’s, wide and amazed and slightly hurt. He’d told my daughter, who he’d known all of ten minutes, his first name. He hadn’t given me that honour. He’d taken everything I had to give and hadn’t granted me a single part of himself.

Fox gritted his jaw, recognising my anger, but not acknowledging it. Instead, he asked, “Is Clara why you leave every night? Why you don’t stay?”

Clue sucked in a breath beside me, finally sensing the sparks and awareness between us. I didn’t give him an answer. It wasn’t any of his business.

He dropped his eyes to Clara. “Does your mum come home to you every night? Would you miss her if she didn’t?”

Clara, happy to be included in an adult’s question, reeled off way too much information. “Yes. She goes to work and then comes home and hangs out with me and Auntie Clue and Ben. We watch television. She makes me do homework.” Her nose crinkled. “Bleh.” Then her little arms came backward and squeezed my legs behind her.

My heart clenched with overwhelming love. “But then we lie in the dark and talk about what we want most, like an ocean full of chocolate ice-cream, and I fall asleep to her telling me lots of wonderful stories. She’s really awesome.” She looked up, her little nose catching a ray of sunlight breaking through the clouds. “I love her. I would miss her if she didn’t come home, because she’s my best friend in the whole wide world.”

She moved suddenly, rushing to Fox and wrapping her hand in his.

He froze, turning from man to statue. His legs wobbled, but he stayed upright this time. “Is that why you like my mummy? Does she tell you stories and help with your homework?”

Clue and Ben held their breath, feeding off my fear. I didn’t dare move in case I triggered a violent reaction in Fox. Ben subtly moved closer to him, putting himself in grabbing distance.

I flashed him a grateful smile. Thank God he was here. I needed a constant bodyguard around Fox. And I hated how sad that was.

Would we ever find a balance? A peaceful moment where we could touch and laugh and stroke like any normal couple?

We’re not a couple.

Things between us were complicated, but it’d been transformed into a Rubik cube with a thousand different colour sequences now that Clara had skipped the line from secrets to Fox’s realm.

Fox never let go of Clara’s hand, and my heart remained in my throat as he ducked to her level.

“She helps me with my homework, but she doesn’t tell me stories. Do you think you can tell me some she told you?”

Oh, God.

I couldn’t think of anything worse. Every story I’d ever told Clara was steeped in fact and twisted with life lessons I’d learned the hard way. My trials had become mythical beasts, my defeats evil witches, but every story ended with a happily ever after.

Fox would know—he’d learn my secrets through my open book of a daughter. Nothing from my past would be safe.

Clara nodded, happiness glowing in her brown eyes. “I can. Can you tell me some in return? Do you know any good stories? I bet you do. I bet you got your scar fighting a dragon while saving some pretty princess.” She tugged on his hand, excitement flying through her young body.

Fox nodded. “I have a few stories I could share.” He bent in half and whispered in her ear. “I’ve never told anyone, so you’ll have to tell me if my stories are any good.”

Clara beamed up at him, joy swimming in her eyes. “I’ll tell you. I’m sure they’re great, though. Can we go see the horses now?”

Fox looked to me. I looked to Clue. Clue looked to Ben. Ben looked to Clara.

There was only one answer to give, but it wasn’t the one I wanted. I wished Fox had never set eyes on Clara as I doubted I’d ever get them apart.

“Yes, you can go. But I’m coming, too.”

Fox gave me a soul-destroying smile before striding toward the house.

With a heavy heart and my hand clinging to the knife in my pocket, I followed a killer whose fingers were wrapped around my daughter’s.





All humans collected fond memories. It used to be a favourite pastime of mine: asking fellow recruits what their happiest recollection was. Where did their minds go while they were being beaten or ordered to murder?

Their happy thoughts ranged from cuddly toys, to a pretty girl, to their favourite food. Not once did we include our family.

That was just asking for trouble.

I broke that law by thinking of Vasily.

The three months while we shared a bedroom were the worst and best of my life. I was responsible for his food, water, and shelter. I was his protection. His brother and friend. Knowing he relied on me gave me purpose. He gave me a reason to keep going. He gave me hope.

The day they made me kill him, it ruined everything left inside me. The hope extinguished, all chance of happiness blotted out. All trace of who I’d been erased—just like they’d planned.