I can’t go.

“You don’t understand, Nila. It’s not that easy.” Jethro looked at me, running his newly inked finger along the inside of my wrist. “Go, before it’s too late.”

Memories of the way he’d thrust inside me last night filled my mind. I’d meant what I said—I felt him—not just inside me, but what he hid inside him.

It was more than truth.

It had been gospel in its legitimacy.

“Jethro…it’s too late already. I’m meant to stay. With you.”

“She’s right, Kite. Tell the police to leave. Find a way,” Jasmine said.

I looked at Jethro’s sister in her navy wool dress and white pashmina in her lap. Her face was pinched and full of concern. What did she know? Why was she fighting on my side?

Cut slammed his fist onto the table with a resounding thump. “Get your hands off my son and get the fuck out!”

Jethro's face darkened. His gaze sent a brutally painful message.

Leave…at least one of us will be free.

My body wound tighter and tighter.

Tears clogged my throat. “I can’t. I won’t.”

I won’t be free without you.

Cut suddenly barked, “Daniel, seeing as Ms. Weaver refuses to leave, escort her off the premises.”

Daniel chuckled, his eyes glittering as he moved quickly around the table. “With pleasure, Pop.”

“Stop! All of you!” Jasmine shouted, but it didn’t do any good.

In a flash, Daniel grabbed my elbow, hauling me away from Jethro, from our bond, from the only existence I ever wanted.

“No!”

Daniel’s voice licked into my ear. “Fight me and I’ll do something un-fucking-forgivable. Do you want me to do that?”

I tried to stomp on his foot. “You’re a bastard.”

“Thanks for the compliment.”

Jethro lunged, grabbing me and punching Daniel in the jaw. “Get your fucking hands off her.” Whipping me behind his body, he glowered at Cut. “I’ll get rid of her.”

Cut breathed hard. “Good. Then I can deal with you.”

Jethro jolted, every inch tight and breaking.

Without a word, he dragged me toward the exit. He trembled as if he’d shatter at any moment, buckling under the weight.

I squirmed, fighting my aching body. “Let me go! I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re leaving. If it’s the last thing I do, at least I can keep you safe.”

I struggled harder. “Safe? I don’t want to be safe. I want to be with you.”

“Quiet,” he choked, his face ashen. “It’s better this way.”

“You’re choosing them over me!” I tried to punch him. “Stand up to them. Leave with me. Don’t stay here, Jethro.”

He clenched his jaw and didn’t reply.

He wasn’t strong enough to fight for what we had.

He’s choosing his family over me.

I rolled my arm, twisting out of his hold. Scurrying from his hands, I turned to face Cut. “I don’t know what power you hold over him, but it isn’t enough. He’s mine, not yours.”

“Nila—don’t!” Jethro grabbed me, dragging me backward. “You don’t know what you’re doing. For fuck’s sake, don’t make this worse than it already is.”

Cut grinned broadly. “Congratulations, Nila. You’ve successfully just changed the future.” His eyes fell frigid and evil on Jethro. “I thought there was hope. But you were just too fucking weak.”

The men shifted in their seats. Cut never moved. “Get rid of the girl, Jet. You and I have something we need to discuss.”

Life seemed to siphon from Jethro’s limbs, growing colder by the second.

“No!” Jasmine screeched, rolling forward. “You can’t. You promised!” Tears slid from her eyes, looking at her brother. “Stop this, Kite. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for making you change, for causing—” She stopped, unable to speak through her sobs.

The worst horror I’d ever felt slithered through my blood.

I’m hollow. I’m hurting. What the hell is happening?

Something darker was at work. This wasn’t about me anymore. This was about Jethro. His father.

What would they do to him the moment I left?

I wouldn’t leave him behind.

Linking my fingers with his, I pulled. “Jethro, come with me.”

But he just stood there, rooted to the spot. His eyes wild, lips parted.

I hovered…waiting. Waiting for one tiny sign that he was still alive beneath whatever fear had struck him mute.

Bonnie sidled up to me, bringing the sickening scent of rosewater and biscuits. “Goodbye, Ms. Weaver. You’ve earned your freedom today at the cost of another.” Leaning closer, she whispered, “You’re free, but this is far from over, girl. Mark my words; you’ll pay for what your family has done.”

I stood taller, ready to fight even if Jethro wouldn’t. “Stop it, I’m stay—”

Jethro suddenly yelled, “Go! Just fucking go.”

The room froze, all eyes pinned on him.

He pointed at the door, shattering my heart into dust. “Leave.”

His eyes screamed the truth.

If you love me at all, you’ll go.

I need you to go.

“You can’t ask me to do this,” I said, wiping away a fallen tear.