studies me with a compassion that wrecks me. “I love you, Beatriks. You and Svetlana were the first children that God brought to us. You two were a package deal. Your sister refused to leave you even at a young age. I can only imagine how her death—”
“Murder.”
“Murder . . . must’ve affected you. Still affects you.” He steps forward and places a comforting hand on my shoulder. “You’ve got to let her go, Bea.”
“I can’t.” Not until whoever killed her pays for what he’s taken from me. “She refused to let me go, Dad. I’m doing the same.”
“She held onto you to keep you safe. Your holding onto her is poisoning the life you could have. The life you were fated to have.” He squints up at the sky and then back down at me. “Don’t you see, Bea? Her life’s purpose was your safety. Your happiness. Everything she did revolved around her protection of you. Honor her life and all she sacrificed by becoming all you can be. Don’t settle for simply being an”—he clears his throat—“exotic dancer.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat. “You don’t understand.”
“That’s probably true, but know this. There is nothing, and I mean nothing, you could do that would change my love for you. I don’t think any father dreams that his daughter becomes a dancer in Vegas, but if this is truly what makes you happy, that’s all I want for you.” As painful as the words must’ve been to say, I truly believe he means it.
The truth is it doesn’t make me happy. It hasn’t made me happy in a long time. Ever since my best lead took off to Mexico, everything else has led me to a dead end. Sure, I like to dance, but I get plenty of that at the Youth Club.
He pulls me in and wraps his arms around my shoulders. “I love you, sweetheart.”
I bury my face into his shoulder, fighting tears. “I love you too, Daddy.”
“Now, we better get these kids ready for bed.” He yells into the yard for the kids to come in. “Shouldn’t take longer than just a few minutes.”
Two hours and thirty-seven minutes later I’m lying on the top bunk bed in my little sisters’ room, my nose about a foot from the ceiling and the sound of two little girl snores coming from the bed below mine.
I can’t stop thinking about what my dad said earlier tonight. I’ve given up almost four years of my life to stripping, all in the hope of finding something that even the police were unable to find. What seemed so possible at one time now seems as impossible as lassoing the fog. How many more years of my life will I give up for my dead sister? One? Ten? Would I give up my life? If Svetlana were here right now, she’d tell me I’d already wasted too much time. Her interests were always me first, everything else second, and all I ever wanted was to give that back to her.
But she’s gone.
Dead.
I’m fighting for nothing more than a memory.
The last few years have been filled with sacrifice, and it never bothered me. At least, it never bothered me until Mason.
He’s the only person who has ever made me wonder what it would be like to leave all this behind. To hang up my search for revenge and go after a life worth living. A life of honor and respect. One my parents could be proud of.
One Svetlana would be proud of.
On a heavy sigh, I power up my phone. I scroll to Mason’s number and punch out a quick text.
In bed. Missing you. Can’t wait for tomorrow.
I stare at my phone, waiting. Nothing.
I scroll through my social media sites, watch a few funny cat videos without sound, and then check my text messages again.
Huh, still nothing.
Maybe he’s out with his mom?
I type out one more text.
We’ll be at Cowell bright and early. G’night.
Rather than turn my phone off, I tuck it under my pillow so I’ll feel it vibrate when he texts me back.
Twenty
Mason
“Have you lost your fucking mind?” I spit through clenched teeth and an aching jaw at the back of Drake’s head.
I’d rather be in his face, but it’s impossible to do when he’s nose first in a pile of white powder.
“Dude, calm down, Mase.” Birdman’s eyes are practically slits as he pulls a heavy lungful of smoke from the bong wedged between his ankles. He holds the shit in