Making Their Vows - Page 33

“Go talk to him, beauty. It’s okay. I’ll be right here.”

“No,” I whisper.

“You have to face him sooner or later.”

I sniff. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” There’s an odd look in his eye as he strokes my hair. Almost like he knows something that I don’t. “Sure as anything.”

Despite the sense of foreboding in my belly, I nod. I let go of North and walk to my father, following him around the side of the building. I lift my chin. I order myself to stay firm. I’m not going to have my education held over my head like a threat so I’ll fall in line. Just because he’s mapped out the life I want to live.

I recoil when my father’s eyes meet mine.

They’re even colder than before. Remote. Foreign.

Between this and the meeting I interrupted last weekend, I’m beginning to wonder if I know my father at all. Who is this man really? “Yes?” I ask, hesitantly, my nerves snapping.

He strokes his jaw a moment, his voice hollow when he speaks. “You will end this now. You will say goodbye and you will not see him again.”

I’m already shaking my head. “I’m not doing that. I love him, too. I love him.”

My father continues as if I’ve said nothing. “Did I hear him say he has a sister?” The question is delivered lightly, but it sends a waft of icy air down my spine. “It would be a shame if her brother didn’t come home one day.”

Invisible hands close around my throat, tightening to the point that I can barely speak. “What…what does that even mean?”

His eye ticks. “It means, you know very well now that I have friends in extremely low places, Grace. Unscrupulous friends. I’m not above asking for a favor to keep you from dragging our family’s reputation through the mud. My associates would laugh at me behind closed doors. There isn’t a spiritual retreat in the world that could cure your mother of the shame.” His voice is like an ice pick, cutting through the center of my sternum. “End it now. Or I have him ended. Do I make myself clear?”

“You wouldn’t…you wouldn’t.”

“I would. Tomorrow. Without batting an eyelash.”

I almost double over from the pain in my midsection.

No. No no no. This is a battle I can’t win.

I can’t put North’s life in danger. I love him too much. I’ve come to love Tulip, as well, and who would raise her if something happened to North? How could I even live in this world if he didn’t exist? How could I live with myself if I was the reason he ended up dead?

“Please, don’t do this,” I whisper to my father. “Please.”

Now he only looks bored. “You have a minute to say goodbye. Make it convincing. Because if he comes sniffing around again, I’ll make the phone call. Don’t test me.”

I’m numb, head to toe, as I turn around and walk back toward the boy who owns my heart. He’s so substantial and strong and handsome and capable standing there in the sunlight, a sob tries to wing its way up my throat. But I swallow it down. His life is hanging in the balance now—and I put it there. This is the only way to save him.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, unable to meet his eyes, my heart rupturing inside my ribcage. Agony cascading inside of me like a treacherous waterfall. “I’m sorry, but…he’s right. It wouldn’t work. You couldn’t support me, North. Not the way I’m used to. Not the way I need. It’s better if we end this now. I…want to end this now.” I think of Curtis Tennison holding a gun to North’s head. Or worse, North’s body lifeless at the bottom of the river—and it pushes me to say the rest. “Please. Please don’t contact me again. Goodbye.”

North stands frozen like a statue as I say the words, but his eyes are wild. Tortured.

He chokes out my name as I walk away, the shadow he casts telling me he’s dropped down to his knees. With tears streaming down my face, all I can do is keep walking, telling myself I’m saving his life. I’m making the only decision possible. But those assurances do nothing to stop my heart from splintering into a million pieces.

Ten

North

If it wasn’t for my sister, I’d already be dead.

There would be nothing to live for.

As it is, I’m hanging on by a thread.

The only way to deal with the pain of losing Grace is to seek more pain.

I’ve been in the Hellmouth every night for the last four days, since she broke up with me, taking on anyone and everyone. Searching for someone who can beat me unconscious. Please. I just don’t want to be awake anymore.

Please. I just want someone to come bury their fist between my eyes and shut my brain down so I can’t think of Grace telling me not to contact her again.

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