“What do you mean?” Remi’s brows dropped into a frown.
“Don’t,” Judge growls.
Emo ignores mine and Judge’s demand, keeping his ominous gaze on Remi. “He won’t be alive to go to prison.”
“Motherfuckin’ hell,” Judge snarls, turning in place and raking a hand through his dark hair.
“Trouble?” Remi’s hesitant voice calls.
“Out,” I snap. “Everyone out.”
Remi once again tries to pull away, but I tug her so her back meets my chest. I don’t look at her yet. I want everyone out so we can talk. It’s about time she learns the truth. All of it.
“Trouble—” Judge starts, but I cut him off.
“No. I’m telling her. I’ll figure shit out after Leland is taken care of. Now, everyone out.”
He doesn’t move for several moments, his eyes flickering down to Remi who’s still plastered to my chest. I don’t give a shit if he likes it or not. Now that Emo’s opened his goddamn mouth, this is how it’s going to be. I just hope Remi doesn’t look at me with fear once she knows. Regardless if she’s okay with it or not, she’s not leaving Malus until Leland is no longer an issue. After that…. Fuck, I don’t know. What in the hell am I going to do if my life isn’t something she can live with? Because damn it, once Leland is gone, I still don’t want to let her go.
Judge finally gives me a tight nod, trusting my decision. He spins on his heel and stalks out to the living room. Emo silently follows behind him, looking not one bit regretful for outing us. Not that I expected him too. He’s an emotionless prick sometimes.
JW stops in front of us. “In order for this to work, she needed to know anyway.” He moves his eyes to Remi. “Just keep an open mind.”
Before she can respond, he walks out. I let Remi go and walk into the living room, making sure everyone leaves. Judge has his arm wrapped around Jenny as he waits for Jamie to lay Elijah down in his bassinet. The living room is empty minutes later.
Feeling eyes on my back, I turn sideways and tip my head toward the couch. “Come sit with me.”
With her hands clasped together in front of her, Remi sedately walks to the couch and takes a seat. She grabs the small decorative pillow and clutches it to her chest, like it can somehow protect her from something. I wonder if that something is me.
She’s down on one end, and to give her space, I take the other. Leaning my elbows on my knees, I scrub my hand over the scruff on my face before twisting to look at her.
“You have to understand something,” I start. “What my sister, brothers and I went through,” I stop and correct myself, “what all the kids in Sweet Haven went through was horrific and nasty. Some of the kids never healed mentally. Some were so bad off they ended up in a mental institution, where they’ll more than likely stay for the rest of their lives. All of us left with scars, some on the inside, some on the outside, some on both. None of us were left with parents, because they were all involved with Hell Night. Some of the adults were killed the night of the raid, some were arrested, but some managed to get away.”
I look forward and fist my hands over and over again, feeling the bite of anger creeping in.
“Even though I hate to admit this, because I wish there was some way I could have saved my sister, she was one of the lucky ones. It was brutal, but she found a way to escape her hell before any of us could. Besides my bro
thers and I, many of the kids ended up in foster care because they had no family to claim them. I’m sure you’ve heard some of the horror stories about being in the system. Unfortunately, some of those kids went from one hell to another.”
I glance back at her. She has the pillow still at her chest with one of her hands balled into a fist over her mouth. Her eyes are wide and alert. She keeps quiet, so I continue.
“All of the kids grew up together, so we were all sort of like a big family. Emo’s always been good with computers, so when we were older, he searched to find out where everyone was. We wanted to make sure they were all okay. Some weren’t.”
I get up from the couch and pace to the other side of the coffee table. I want to face her head on when I tell her this next part to judge her reaction.
“Several of the kids who ended up in foster care were no better off than if they stayed in Sweet Haven. My brothers and I visited those foster parents and made sure they couldn’t hurt anymore children.”
Remi drops her hand from her mouth. “What did you do?” she whispers, her voice trembling.
I hold her eyes and say evenly, “We killed them.”
“Oh, God,” she croaks, her body jerking back against the cushion.
I hold my stance on the other side of the coffee table. I lock my knees in place, because if they buckle even a centimeter, I’ll go to her, and that’s the last thing I need to do at the moment. I don’t think she’d take to me getting in her space right now.
“It wasn’t done on a whim, Remi. We weren’t killing for the sake of it. Those vile people touched children in places they weren’t supposed to. They forced themselves on those kids. They beat them and raped them. Not just once, but over and over again. There’s no telling how many others they’ve done the same to, or how many more they would have hurt later.”
“But why didn’t you call the police and report it?” she cries. Tears swim in her eyes, and I want nothing more than to pull her onto my lap and comfort her.