Pawn (The Pawn Duet #2) - T.M. Frazier Page 0,44

face falls. “I told him not to. I tried to warn you. I even went as far as to send men to the beach house to warn you, but it was already too late.”

“But why kill my entire family?” I ask, my chest heavy. “All of us? Why not just my dad?”

“Collateral damage,” I suppose. At least, I suspect that’s how Darius sees things.” Percy shakes his head. “He also wasn’t supposed to tell you guys that this was an experiment, but he did. If he couldn’t let your pops live with that knowledge, then he probably couldn’t his family live with it either.”

Collateral damage. My sisters and mother died because my dad took us with him instead of running alone. The thought makes me hate my father even more. “What about Gutter? What was he? That happened after you were released,” I say, needing an explanation. Not just for myself, but for Pike.

Percy frowns, staring at his feet. “I didn’t go that day with the rest of the group. I wasn’t there when Gutter was killed. But, I knew what was going down. I knew an innocent man was going to die as revenge for killing my mom, back when I briefly believed that was true.” He scratches his eyebrow with his hand holding his cigarette. “It sounds even more ridiculous that I’m about to say this aloud, but I thought that by not being there, not participating in it, it would somehow save me from the guilt of his death.” He blows out a long plume of smoke. “It turns out that I didn’t need to be the one to deal the deadly blow for Gutter’s blood to show up on my hands.” He takes another drag. His eyebrows knit together in a deep V. “Everything I’ve ever done has been for this cause…a cause that doesn’t even fucking exist. It’s as made up as that purple dinosaur in a kid’s cartoon. A cause not meant to do anything but hurt, and in the end, I deserve to feel every bit of that guilt because I fed into it. I fed it to others!”

I want to say something that will make him feel better, so I search my memory, my research. “Guilt is a learned emotion. It’s relation to past mistakes, and its existence when previously absent, suggest evolution. Progress. You learned what is right and wrong, and the guilt you feel is proof of your progress.”

Percy scoffs. “Now, you’re just making shit up.”

“I don’t make shit up, and I’ll have you know that I don’t joke when it comes to psychological facts. These are finite facts. They can’t be argued with.” I say, triumphantly. “But guilt can also keep a person from having fulfilling relationships. It shows that you’ve made progress, but you won’t be able to move on until you let it go. You’re not a bad person anymore.”

He looks at me with sad eyes. “Oh, yeah? Is that what you’re doing? Letting go of the guilt so you can move on?”

I rub my hands up and down my arms, suddenly feeling a chill although it can’t be less than eighty degrees in this room. “Just because I have the knowledge of how guilt works, it doesn’t mean that I’ve made use of that knowledge as of yet.”

He holds my gaze. “Answer something for me. What makes someone a good person?” he asks, slowly, curiously. “How do we fix this shit?”

“I have an idea or two,” I admit with a small smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. “And it’s never too late to try.”

“What’s going on in that brain of yours, Mickey Mouse?” Percy asks.

There’s a knock at the door. “Come in,” Percy shouts.

Rage walks in. The girl who placed the fake house arrest bracelet on my wrist at Pike’s house.

My recruit.

Of course, it’s her. Her looks alone could gain her access anywhere without much question. Beautiful and innocent-looking. You wouldn’t know what actually lurks beneath all that blonde hair and tan, clear skin.

Rage’s shiny ponytail is long and smooth, reaching her waist. her blue eyes are bright and yet dull all at the same time. Full lips and high cheekbones, she’s a picture of real-life Barbie-doll perfection. She’s wearing tiny white shorts and a bright pink crop top that reads “Feelin’ cute, might cut you.” White bikini strings poke out from underneath, tied together at the nape of her neck.

Rage plops down her light blue cheerleading tote bag onto the bed and looks