HANS: Alliance Series Book Four

I tell Cassandra everything.

I tell her about Freya. About that morning and every awful week after.

I hold my Butterfly while she cries—for me, for my sister she never knew.

I tell her about my parents. About their funerals. And I tell her it’s okay when she says my parents should have stayed for me. Hug her when she says they should have fought for me.

I tell her about burning my family home down. I tell her about the literal fortune I inherited. I tell her about the investments I made and all the properties I own.

I tell her about hunting down every man associated with Freya’s death. How I traveled continents. Leveled compounds.

I tell her about Gabriel Marcoux. How I never found him. And I place her hand on my side, letting her feel what’s left of my first scar.

I tell her about the first time I met Karmine. And every time after. I tell her about the other women, the ones who have joined Karmine’s army. How I work with them. How we’ve been destroying trafficking rings one hit at a time.

I tell her I moved to Minnesota because of Freya. That she was going to attend college here and that it was her dream to live somewhere with lakes and seasons. And I tell her how glad I am that I did.

I twine my fingers through Cassandra’s when I tell her that I read her blog, Cul-de-sac Culinary with Cassie. That I’ve read it all the way through a dozen times.

I let her kiss me then. With her surprised smile and tears on her cheeks.

Then I tell her about The Alliance. I tell her why Dom owes me a favor. And how even though Nero said he’d help, they’re still dangerous men to be wary of.

I tell her I have a lot of enemies. And that it could be any one of them who sent a man to find me. How it was just bad luck that she opened her door. But also that if she hadn’t, the man might have been able to identify me. And if that had happened, when he came back, he wouldn’t be alone.

I tell her the truth. That I’m good at what I do. But that if they’d hit my house with enough men, when I wasn’t expecting them, I could’ve died.

I tell her she may have saved my life tonight.

And that I’d give my own to keep her safe.

And it feels good to tell her.

It feels good to share my story.

It feels good to trust someone again.