for this place. I lead him to our parents’ graves. They're resting together—the way they would have wanted.
"Why are we here?" Parker mutters.
"Look. Here." I point at the carved words on Mark's tombstone. He'd picked them himself—had written them down in his will. "Read them out loud to me."
"Familia ante omnia," Parker reads out.
"You know what it means?"
"Of course," he mutters. "Family over all. But what does it matter now?"
"He cared about you, Parker."
"Like fuck he did." My stepbrother laughs bitterly. "He wanted me to be someone I never wanted to be. Someone I can't be."
"But he loved you," I argue. "I know he did, Parker."
This time, he doesn't fight my words, and a part of me breaks for him. I reach out and gently squeeze his hand.
"I saw Dove today," I whisper next, and his eyes snap to mine. Trying to see how much I know? I wonder. "She... she didn't look good."
"Oh?"
"She's scarred, Parker—horribly scarred."
"Scarred?" He feigns surprise, but I've known my stepbrother for so long I can tell when he's faking it. "What happened?"
"Maybe I should ask you that," I continue. "Because she wouldn't tell me."
He pulls his hand free of my reach. "What the fuck are you insinuating, June?"
"Did you hurt my friend?" The accusation weighs heavy on me, but I need to know. "Did you do that to Dove?"
He laughs, shaking his head and running his fingers through his hair. I'm expecting a defense, something to convince me how wrong I have it all, but it doesn't come. Instead, Parker's steel-gray eyes—so much like his brother's, yet so very different—meet mine, and he smirks.
"What if I did?"
My hands shake as I tuck dark strands of hair behind my ears. "Parker, I..."
"What? You feel sorry for her? Don't." He laughs. "She deserved it. They all do."
"All?" I narrow my eyes at him. "How many people have you hurt, Parker?"
"I've been holding back," he mutters, stepping closer to the tombstone and gliding his fingertips over the engraved marble. "But that's over now."
"Parker..." I swallow thickly as another wave of sickness overwhelms me. "Let's go back to the house. Talk things over."
"No."
"No?"
"You're staying right here, little sis." The smile's back on his face. "I don't need you making trouble for me."
"I... I would never..."
"Save it." He approaches me again, and I shiver when he caresses my left cheek. The same one he left a gash in on Dove's pretty face. "Maybe I should give you one too. You and Dove could match. I bet she'd love that, your little copycat."
"Parker, I—"
"Shut up." His words make me quiet.
"Let's go back," I whisper.
"No."
"Please."
"No." He steps aside, shaking his head. "I thought we could work it out, June. I thought I could show you how wrong you were. How to make things right again. But I guess I was wrong."
"Let's just go back to the house and—"
"Oh, I'm leaving." He smirks. "But you aren't."
"Parker, I..."
"What?" he taunts. "You're sorry? You want to help? I don't need your help, little sis. I got this. And I'll come get you once I'm done. You be a good girl and wait for me."
"Huh?" I knit my brows together, following him to the doors leading outside. "Parker, let's just—"
"No." He pushes me back so roughly I stumble and nearly fall. "Nothing else to talk about. This is plan B. Wait for me here and think about what you've done wrong. Once you admit it to me—and yourself—I'll let you out."
"You can't possibly keep me in here!" I laugh nervously, my heart pounding as I reach for the door again. "Parker, you know I’m afraid of the dark…"
"I do,” he smirks. “That’s precisely why I’m leaving you here."
"Parker, please... I think I might be—"
He opens the door and steps outside. I rush to go after him, but the door slams in my face. There's nothing but darkness now and the sound of the retreating golf cart.
Pure terror engulfs me. The darkness. The darkness is overwhelming.
I always knew those nightmares from my childhood would catch up to me one day...
23
Kade
I haven't heard from June in a full day, and I'm worried out of my mind. I've blown up her phone with calls and texts. I've emailed. Facebook messaged. Instagram messaged. Nothing. Fucking nothing.
Standing in front of the gates to my former home that evening, I hope I'm lucky enough to see a friendly face on the other side of the door. Someone who knows me, remembers me, and will let me onto the property. Parker sure as