Chapter 5 Faith #2
“Do you ever wonder what would’ve happened if Mom and Dad hadn’t died?” The words escaped before I could stop them.
Blake put his hand on my knee over the blanket. “Don’t go there, Faith. We can’t rewrite the past.”
“I’m not wallowing,” I said a little too defensively.
He didn’t know me as well as brothers and sisters should know each other, but trust me, I did not wallow.
Or self-pity. This was reflecting. “I just … do you ever wonder if there’s a moment in everybody’s life that completely changes their trajectory? ”
That leads to, say, waking up in a hospital room, waiting to find out if you might have murdered someone.
The words hung in the air like toxic smoke.
“I don’t remember much about the first five years of my life,” I admitted.
“But I remember Mom’s perfume. Something with vanilla.
” I smiled despite everything. “And those gold earrings that used to jingle when she walked. I thought they were the coolest earrings in the whole world, and she promised me that when I turned sixteen, she’d let me get my ears pierced and give me those earrings. ”
Warmth spread through my chest at the memory, precious and painful.
“I remember how Dad would fall asleep in the recliner, watching TV, and Mom would kiss the tip of his nose to wake him up. She used to kiss the tip of my nose every night before bed too. And Dad ate breakfast with me every morning, no matter how busy he was. Cheerios with too much sugar.”
“Sounds like you remember a lot,” Blake said softly.
My eyes burned. “Not nearly as much as I want to. Mostly, I remember feeling happy and safe, and then that entire feeling got ripped away when that officer showed up to tell us they’d been in a wreck.”
Blake studied me, squeezing my knee, perhaps in an attempt to remind me I wasn’t alone. “Do you remember that first night in our foster home? Before we got separated?”
I nodded, throat tight. “I came to your room because I just wanted to go home.”
“It broke my heart,” Blake admitted, his face falling into old pain.
“You were this little five-year-old girl, and no matter how many times we’d explained it to you that day, it just didn’t sink in.
You came to my room that night and said you just wanted to go home.
And I had to be the one to break your heart and tell you for the final time that we were never going home. ”
“Never again,” I remembered, the words feeling like shards of glass in my throat. “But you let me crawl into your bed and sleep next to you. I felt like as long as I was with you, maybe everything would be okay.”
Blake swallowed. “I know I’ve told you this before, but I’m so sorry for what happened to you.” Blake’s voice was heavy with guilt.
“Stop.” I held up my hand. “It’s not your fault.”
“I was your big brother. I was supposed to protect you.”
“You did protect me. You saved my damn life, Blake.”
“I traumatized you in the process.”
I met his eyes. “He was killing me. It’s not like you could call a time-out and ask me to step outside while you handled business.”
“I shouldn’t have kept hitting him in front of you.”
“What were you supposed to do? Let him finish the job?” I shook my head. “You saved my life, and then you went on to save other people’s lives every single day. You became this incredible doctor, and I’m so proud of you, I could burst.”
He smiled softly, but it fell quickly, like it was too heavy to hold. “But then we got separated.”
“They had no choice but to investigate. But even they agreed that you killing our foster dad was self-defense. I would’ve died if you hadn’t done that.”
Blake’s jaw worked like he was chewing on old guilt. “It never should have happened.”
I studied him, noticing the fresh concern pulsing through his features. “Are you bringing all this up because you’re trying to figure out if watching you bash someone’s head in turned me into a monster?”
His head snapped back. “What? No.”
“It’s understandable.” I kept my voice level even though my insides were churning. “I watched you do what you had to do to save my life. Now, you’re wondering if that moment shaped something in me that led to tonight.”
“Faith, no. That’s not what I’m saying at all.” Blake scrubbed his hands over his face. “I’m trying to tell you that I’m sorry your past has been so painful. But you’re not alone anymore. No matter what happens with this—even if the worst-case scenario becomes reality—you’re not alone.”
My throat tightened. “Even if I killed someone?”
“Even then.” His voice was steady, certain. “If you did, it had to be self-defense.”
“What if it wasn’t?”
“I’d still love you. Because loving someone means accepting the whole person, Faith. Including the scary parts. Including the parts that might have made terrible mistakes.”
I wanted to believe him. Hell, I bet Blake believed himself, but it was easy to say you’d never turn your back on someone when you didn’t know what they did.
As if sensing my skepticism, my brother continued, “Knox is in prison for murder, and we still love him. We visit him, we support him, we’re his family. Family doesn’t just disappear when things get dark.”
Knox. Right. The mysterious fifth member of their brotherhood. I had so many questions about him, the one Ryker visited frequently to help prep for his next parole hearing. What had Knox done? What was his story?
Whatever it was, Ryker spoke about Knox with fierce loyalty, with love. So, I couldn’t imagine he was some serial killer or something.
Regardless, maybe there was hope for me too?
“I hope he’s alive,” I said quietly. I hope the man in the woods is alive, and I also hope my own innocence is still breathing.
Three sharp knocks preceded the door opening, and my entire body went on high alert.
Ryker entered the room slowly and shut the door behind him with deliberate softness, as if trying not to spook me.
I hadn’t noticed what he was wearing before, but now, I took him in.
He looked more fierce bodyguard than lawyer.
Jeans that hugged his thick thighs, a black T-shirt that stretched across his muscular torso, and tattoos lacing up his arms, disappearing beneath the fabric.
A dark, weathered jacket—built for function over fashion—hung over one shoulder by his finger.
He tossed it onto the chair without looking, like warmth stopped mattering once he found me.
Dark hair fell across his forehead, disheveled, like he’d been running his hands through it, and those sapphire eyes, usually sharp with calculation, were raw with something I couldn’t name.
The hospital lights caught the dark stubble on his face, making him look both beautiful and dangerous. I studied him like evidence, searching for clues in the set of his shoulders, the tension in his neck, trying to decode what he was about to tell me before the words left his mouth.
He stopped three feet from my bed, and for a heartbeat, we just existed in the same space—him standing there like he was holding himself back from coming closer, me frozen against the pillows. He looked … wrecked. Like being away from me had been agony.
“Hey, Warrior.”
Warrior. The first time he’d called me that, I’d laughed it off.
But he’d caught my chin, made me look at him, his eyes serious as a heart attack.
“You’ve been through hell and kept fighting.
Not everyone would do that. Most people would’ve given up, but not you.
You’re not just a survivor, Faith. You’re a warrior. ”
And now, as I heard it again with everything around me in ruins, it landed like a lifeline. He was reminding me who I was. That I’d fought through worse. That I was built for battle, even when the enemy might be the law itself.
“How are you feeling?” His voice was carefully controlled.
“Fine. Did the police find him?” The words tumbled out before I could stop them.
Ryker exchanged a look with Blake. “They did.”
The room felt like it was tilting, spinning, falling away from under me.
Please say he’s okay. Please say he’s alive. Please say this is all just a terrible nightmare.
“I’m afraid he’s dead.”
The words hit me like a sledgehammer to the chest, stealing every molecule of air from my lungs.
Dead.
He’s dead.
I killed someone.
Game over, Faith. You’re officially a murderer. And now everyone will finally see what you really are.