Page 5 of Sick Little Devotion

But still. I’m stuck on Ron. He should not be walking. And if he’s walking, does that mean… I nearly vomit at the thought, swallowing the bile rising in my throat. Rage rolls through my chest. If he fucking touched her…

“Mmm…” Sara’s voice comes from behind me, and I hear her shift in bed. I know I need to go. I need to slip out of this window, but now I’m fighting the urge not to break into a murderous rampage.

The mess would complicate things.

Thankfully, the professional criminal in me kicks into gear, and I creep out of the window, carefully shutting it behind me as I linger in the shadows. I think about how easy it was to slip into Sara’s room, and even as I listen to the sound of the brothers’ voices and tell myself I was foolish to come here, I know I will be back. Every night if I can. The pull of my desire for Sara is too strong, and now that I have seen that Ron is up and about again, I know I have to claim Sara and take her away from here. And until that day, I will be drawn to watch over her at night.

Will and Ron continue to chat about things I don’t care about—the store, Martha, and just about anything that doesn’t have to do with the girls. And that fact terrifies me…

In the seven years I’ve been gone, I always thought Ron was incapable of hurting anyone. But as it turns out, I was wrong.

Very fucking wrong.

Chapter Three

SAHARA

Will didn’t do anything to us over the robbery, and I can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing. It might mean that he’s saving it up to really cash in. He’s slapped me a handful of times, but never in the presence of anyone else—not even my mother.

Thankfully, she had a good night and spent the evening with us, rather than locked in her room. I can’t help but wonder if she knew what happened and that we needed her.

“He looks at me weird,” Eliza says, wiping down the counter. The moment feels like déjà vu, and I almost expect three masked men to come rushing into the store.

“Who looks at you weird?”

I already know the answer. It’s the reason I installed an interior deadbolt on the door of the girls’ room. My stepfather either didn’t notice or didn’t care that I had done it.

“Uncle Ron,” Eliza eyes me wearily. “I got out of the shower last night, and he was right there, Sara.”

I swallow hard, bile threatening to burst from my stomach and up my throat. I hate that she calls me Sara—like Aiden always used to—but I hate it even more that Ron is once again creeping around under the cover of darkness. He was paralyzed from the waist down for three years, which was enough time for me to grow up and become unappealing to him.

But it was perfect fucking timing for the girls.

“You have to keep the door locked and maybe use my shower. He’s not supposed to be in the house, ever.”

“Yeah, but you know that Will never listens to Martha’s rule.”

“No, but when she’s sober, he does…” My voice trails off, because we all know how far and few between those occasions are. It almost never happens. My mother is almost always drunk now. She’s been that way since my stepfather changed from a loving new husband to an abusive dickhead.

I miss my dad.

But I push the thought away. He’s been gone for most of my life. There’s no point wishing back someone who was really never there from the beginning.

“I’ve seen him watching Lilly, too.”

I shake my head. “I’ll keep him away from you all, even if Will doesn’t.”

“Why does Will let him stay around?”

I shrug. I don’t have an answer for her. “I don’t know. I guess because he’s his brother and that’s his only freaking friend.”

“Maybe if he wasn’t such a dick, he wouldn’t have a problem. I swear, sometimes I’d rather be back in the group home.”

I nod, unable to speak as her words send my memory off the rails.

***

Eight Years Earlier…