Hard to Fight (Alpha's Heart, #1)(31)

I’m going to be the one to stop him.

“I’m sorry, Raide.” It’s all I can say.

“So that’s it—that’s me and that’s the worst of me.”

“I…,” I whisper.

“You can handle that?”

Tears burst from my eyes again and run down my cheeks. I want to tell him it’s okay. I want to tell him I understand. I want to tell him he’s a good person and it’s going to be okay. I want to wrap my arms around him and take it all away, but I can’t. If I let Raide go through with his plan of seeking revenge, then he’ll go away for a long time. He thinks right now revenge is going to fix everything, but it won’t.

Realization hits me like a sledgehammer. I have to take him in. It’s the only way to save him. If he kills his sister’s killer, he’ll spend the rest of his life behind bars. It won’t make him happy, it won’t fix what’s broken, and God dammit, it won’t allow him to be the man I know he is. Raide told me he wanted to be free. There’s only one way that can happen. I have to take him in, and then I have to help him.

So I say the only thing I can. I know it’s for the best right in this moment, even though it rips my heart out to say it. “No.”

He flinches and then jerks his head. “Right.” Then he dresses himself, gets his things, and walks toward the door. “You know the way out.”

When he’s gone, I fall to my knees and cry.

What the hell did I get myself into?





Chapter Fourteen

I’m numb as I walk toward the office.

My heart has shut down. My head is switched off. I can’t think. I just have to do this. For Raide, for me, for everything I’ve worked for. I step through the giant double doors and walk straight into Don’s office. He’s back and working on something, head buried in his laptop. When he hears his door, he lifts his head and studies me. “Grace, is everything okay?”

I toss a piece of paper on his desk. “His address. I can’t bring him in on my own; he’s a big man. You’ll find him there.”

He studies me, really studies me. “You look like you’ve had your heart ripped out. Are you sure everything is okay?”

“Yeah.”

He narrows his eyes. “It’s hard to get an address—how’d you get it?”

I slept with him, and it was the best night of my life. “I … Does it matter?”

He studies me further. There are not a lot of rules as far as how we get things, and mostly, Don doesn’t ask. “No,” he finally says.

“Good.”

I turn and walk out. I pass Vance, who calls out my name. I pass Julio, who glares at me. I don’t see them. I walk out of the building and get into my car. I drive numbly to my parents’ house, and when I arrive, I walk straight up the front steps into the home I grew up in. I need my dad. I just need him to tell me I’ve done the right thing. That this will get easier. That it’s part of the job. That the hurt I’m feeling isn’t real. That Raide is going to be okay and I did the best thing I could for him.

“Grace, what are you doing here?” my mom asks when I step inside.

She’s at the table with Gretchen and two friends of hers from the beauty pageant committee. I’d usually snort and throw some smart remark at them, but I don’t have the patience or the effort today. “Where’s Dad?”

“He’s out—he won’t be long.”

“Where have you been?” Gretchen frowns, running her eyes over me.

I know I look like shit. My makeup is probably running, my hair is a mess, and I’m barefoot because I couldn’t be bothered putting my heels on.

I shoot Gretchen a glare. “I’ve been working.”

“Only person I know who works in a short dress,” Gretchen smirks, and the ladies at the table all giggle.

Woman that giggle, I just decided, piss me off.

“Maybe I was getting some while I was at it,” I deadpan.

“Grace!” my mom cries. “Don’t be so crude. These ladies don’t need to hear such filth. I’m ashamed to call you my daughter sometimes.”

“Yeah, don’t I know it,” I bark.

“These ladies are important—you watch your mouth,” she warns.

“Is this your other daughter?” one of the ladies asks with disgust.

“Yes,” my mother mutters. “Sadly.”

It’s like a blow to the chest.

“I don’t even know how we came from the same place,” Gretchen mutters. “You are just so … plain.”

That’s it. I’m done. I lunge at Gretchen. I’m quick. I’m strong and I’ve had training. Because of this, I catch her hair and tug her head back so hard, she screams, and then I get in her face. “I might not be a beauty queen, I might not feel the need to wedge a giant stick up my ass like you, and I might not be as f*cking perfect as you, Gretchen, but I am a goddamned person, and I am tired of your insults.”

“Let her go!” my mother shrieks.

Gretchen’s face is bright red and she’s squirming in her chair, screaming loudly.

I tug her head hard again, but a hard arm wraps around my waist, hauling me backwards. “Enough, baby,” my dad says into my ear.