“You know I’m crazy enough.” I try to make a joke but miss the mark badly—it’s been a long time. Not knowing what else to say, I shrug. “I have to run anyway. Might as well be with someone.” I give him the best smile I can summon, but there’s too much darkness in me at the moment to be happy.

He smiles back, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I know, but I want to make sure.”

I think I’m sure. The last thing I want to do is leave Layton when I just got him back. “Layton, can I ask you a question?”

He nods, this time with confidence. “You can ask me anything.”

I suck in a breath. “Do you know who killed my mother?” Usually when I say something like this, he would always say that my mother died from natural causes, so I don’t expect much from him.

“I honestly don’t know.” He touches my face, a soft brush of his hand, then moves his fingers to my lips and traces them. “I know that it was someone there that day… I heard my dad saying something about it once. But he never said the specifics.”

“So it could be any of them?” I ask, rage flaring in my chest. I’d always had my suspicions about her death and know I find out I’m right. It makes me angry. Makes me want to go back to Boston and find out who it is. “One of the Dellefontes, or the Catherlson’s. Or your father or mine. One of them did something to her.” The last two hurt.

He nods, appearing in agony too. “I don’t know what you know about your mother… but I heard a lot of stuff about her… about messing around with the wrong people.”

“Sadly, it doesn’t surprise me. Not after everything… God, I can’t believe she let her own daughter go to that kind of place.” I’d thought my life had been bad but Solana’s was so much worse. To be raised to be a killer… the things she must have went through and knowing that one of her parent’s sent her there.

“I think I should talk to her,” I tell Layton, climbing off his lap.

“I think you should too.” He stands up with me and picks up his gun. “But it’s going to have to be quick. If we’re going to go we’ve got to go soon… Solana… well she’s been hired to kill you and she can’t stall for much longer.”

I should be more shocked than I am, but at this point shock has lost it’s full effect. “I definitely need to talk to her.” I start for the door, but Layton calls out to me.

“Lola, wait,” he says and when I turn around, he tosses me my 9mm. “Just to make sure your protected. I feel better when you are.”

I nod then take a deep breath, stepping up the stairway to go talk to the sister I’ve never known.

Layton

I can’t believe she agreed to go with me after I told her about my family wanting to kill her, that they might have had something to do with her mother’s death, and of course about the shameful business connected to the Everett’s name. But I’m not going to question it. I have bigger things to worry about, like getting Lola to somewhere safe until we can figure out why the three families want her dead. Plus, I have to keep myself dead while I do it.

As soon as she goes up to talk to Solana, I start throwing supplies in a bag. We’re going to have to live on the road for a while but are going to have to ditch the car eventually, since the Catherlson I’m sure have the plate number by now. We can drive to the next state and then maybe leave the country, if Lola has her passport.

I’m zipping up the bag when Lola comes back down the stairs, looking baffled. “She’s gone.”

I tuck my gun in the back of my jeans. “Solana?”

She nods, her 9mm still in her hand, her dark hair a scattered mess, and there’s dirt on the bottom of her pants and on her boots. “I searched around, check the car and then walked around the woods a little bit, calling out to her, but she didn’t answer.”

I pick up a hoodie from a small stack on the shelf and put it on. “I’d say I’m surprised, but honestly I’m not. It seems like something she’d do.” I could tell when I was talking to her while Lola was still out that she was going to bail soon. She’s been getting text from someone—I’m sure whoever hired her—and was getting antsy.

“But where would she go?” she asks, coming over to the shelf and grabbing a hoodie as well. “We’re out in the middle of the friggin’ woods for crying out loud.”

“She’s more than capable of taking care of herself.” I zip of the hoodie and pick up the bag. “She’s been trained to be the best at survival.”

Lola frowns at the reminder of where her sister was raised. “Well, then what are we going to do?"

“We are going to hit the road.” I extend my hand to her. “You have your passport on you?”

She nods, eyeing my hand with reluctance before taking it. “I do. It’s in the bag in the trunk.”

“Good.” I lace my fingers through hers and pull her toward the stairway.

She follows after me. “Where are we going exactly?”

“Well, we’re going to stay on the road until we get within a safe distance from Glensdale,” I tell her as we make our way up the stairs. “But then I was thinking Mexico.”

She stops at the top of the stares. “Wait. We’re leaving the country?”

“Yeah, I think it’s safest for now.” I start to walk again, but she doesn’t budge. “What’s wrong?”

She shrugs. “It just seems like a lot, you know.”

I nod, trying not to over-analyze the hesitancy in her eyes. “But you trust me, right?”

I wait for what feels like an eternity and then instead of answering me, she leans forward and kisses me, letting me know that she does.

Solana

I stand in the darkness, waiting for the house to clear out before I go in. It took me over a day to walk back to Glensdale, hitching hiking when I could. By the time I arrive at The Dusky Inn, it’s nearing the next night.

I don’t feel bad for taking off without saying. Good-bye’s were never my thing and if I stuck around for much longer I would have had to either answer the person who sent me after Lola in the first place or explain to Lola that her own father sent me to kill her. And the withering heart inside me couldn’t bring myself to do it—guess it wasn’t completely dead like I’ve thought for years. Besides, if I told her, then she’d want to know why and I don’t know that, other than there are four mafia families all connect to that damn warehouse where I was raised, who want Lolita dead, just like they wanted her mother dead. Larenze never explained that to—and he wouldn’t—just like I never explained to him that I will never, ever kill for him. He thinks that some training and brainwash will make it easy for me to forget that he was the one who sent me to live at that place...

I shudder on the inside, go cold, as I see images… of what was done to me… things I’ll never forget, but can’t allow myself to remember.

So I leave and focus on my plan, which has just had a slight change to it. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Nyjah since Lola told me about the lovely little tattoo we share. Although, it’s more like a brand than anything. A brand of what we are.

After the last woman walks out of the place, I decide it’s time to enter. There’s only one light on in the entire place, coming from the lower office where I know Nyjah is drinking a glass of scotch, something I learned while scoping out Lola. He does it every night, then smokes a cigarette, staring off into empty space. I’d wonder what he was thinking about and now I think I know.

“We’re closed,” he says when my boots make the floor creak. He glances over at me, squinting to see me in the shadows. He’s wearing a plain black T-shirt, torn jeans, boots. His hair is short, eyes crystal blue, and I can see on his neck the tattoo we share. “Whoever the fuck you are, leave. I’m done dealing with people for the day.”