<b>Chapter </b><b>158 </b>
I nodded, fighting back <b>a </b>fresh wave of tears. My mother had always been the stronger one–practical, resilient, quick to find solutions. Seeing her this way, fragile and disconnected, broke something inside me that I hadn’t <b>known </b>could break.
“What happened?” I asked, looking to my father, not sure I was ready for the answer but knowing I needed to hear Sit.
He <b>ran </b>a trembling hand through his gray hair. “Jason has been… strugglingtely, he began, <b>his </b>voice unsteady. “He lost that reception job at the hotel. Said the pay was too low, the hours too long. You know how he is–was.” He stumbled over the correction, his face contorting with fresh pain.
“He was fired?” I asked, surprised. Jason <b>had </b>only mentioned starting the job a few weeks ago.
“He said he hated dealing with entitled guests, having to smile and be polite for minimum wage plus lousy tips.” My father gave a small, bitterugh that contained no humor. “He’d been at home since then, sleepingte, ying those video games.”
“If you’d gotten him a position at that fancypany of yours,” my mother interrupted suddenly, her voice sharp <b>and </b>clear, cutting through her previous haze, “he wouldn’t have been let go. He wouldn’t have been home when those men came.”
I rocked back on my heels, staring at her in shock. “Mom, I-”
“All those rich friends of yours,” she continued, her eyes suddenly focused and burning with a mixture of grief and anger. “All those connections. You couldn’t <b>find </b>something better for your own brother?”
“That’s not fair,” my father said softly, cing a hand on her arm. “Reba has her own life, her own problems
“Don’t defend her!” My mother jerked away from his touch. “My <b>son </b>is dead! <b>Dead </b>because he <b>was </b>home in the middle of the day when he should have been at work! At a decent job that his sister could have helped him find!”
Each word pierced me like a knife. My chest tightened until breathing became difficult. “Mom, please- I began, but she wasn’t finished.
“He was sitting on the couch, she continued, her voice <b>rising</b><b>, </b>eyes wild with remembered horror. “I was in the kitchen. There <b>was </b><b>a </b>knock, and then… then they just kicked the door in<b>. </b>Two men in masks. One grabbed me, pushed me down. The other one… he just… he just walked right up to <b>Jason </b>and…” Her voice broke on a sob. “That man just put the gun <b>to </b>his head and pulled the trigger. One shot. Just one. My boy never even had <b>time </b>to scream.”
The room seemed to tilt around me. I pressed a hand to my mouth, trying to hold back the bile rising in my <b>throat</b>, The clinical part of my mind registered that my mother <b>had </b>witnessed her son’s execution–there was no other word for it. This hadn’t been a robbery gone wrong or random violence. This had been a targeted killing.
“They didn’t take anything,” my father added quietly, confirming my thoughts. “They didn’t say anything. They just…
9:11 Fri<b>, </b>Sep 26 B
killed him and left.”
“And now these people, my mother gestured vaguely at the door, indicating the hospital staff, they won’t let us gri home. Won’t let us <b>make </b>arrangements. Keep telling us we’re in danger. What danger could be worse than what’s already happened?”
I knew the answer to that, but couldn’t say it. Couldn’t tell them that the men who killed Jason might return fo finish the job–to eliminate witnesses. Couldn’t exin that my connection to Dominic Sterling, to the werewolf world, had made them targets.
The guilt was crushing. This was my fault. If I hadn’t gotten involved with Dominic, if I hadn’t agreed to that cursed contract, if I hadn’t inadvertently marked him as my mate…
“I need some air,” I whispered, standing abruptly. My legs felt unsteady beneath me, “I’ll be right back.”
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