He flinches, but keeps his voice calm. “You’ll make it. Come on.”

He turns me, and leads me back out to the row of clerks at desks. He begins talking to them, getting angry and waving his hands. I find a seat and drop down, putting my head in my hands. I’ll get there. I’ll get there. I’ll get there.

“Katia.”

I look up to see Marcus kneeling in front of me. I turn away from the brown eyes that once meant so much to me.

“There’s a flight in just over an hour.”

I nod briskly.

“You’ll get there.”

I close my eyes and remain that way. The minutes tick by and when my flight is finally called, I stand without acknowledging Marcus and go through the gates. He calls my name, but I don’t turn back. I only have one thing on my mind.

Getting home to my mother.

~*~*~*~

“No,” I scream, falling to my knees.

“I’m so sorry, Katia,” Dad croaks. “She held on.”

“When?” I rasp. “When?”

“Fifteen minutes ago.”

Fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes. I missed her by fifteen minutes. I missed the person who has been with me my entire life dying by fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes that could have been saved if Marcus hadn’t caused me to miss my flight. He didn’t let me on that plane; if I had have gotten on that plane, I’d have seen her. I’d have been able to tell her I loved her.

Marcus took something else from me.

“This can’t be real,” I croak, dropping my head.

My father’s arms go around me. “I’m so sorry.”

“I left her, if I didn’t go . . .”

“Don’t. You couldn’t have changed this.”

“I didn’t get to say goodbye,” I whisper hoarsely. “She died without knowing I loved her.”

“Baby,” Dad rasps. “She knew. I promise you she knew.”

“I wasn’t here,” I yell, but my voice breaks off halfway through.

My father pulls me into his arms and I break into pieces. My mother was my everything. She fought for my every breath, and I left her. I left her to fix something with someone who couldn’t care less about me. He stopped me from going to her. He stopped me from getting to tell her one last time just how much she meant.

The last piece of Katia I was holding onto snaps, and I drown in a pit of my own darkness.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

MARCUS

Her mom is dead.

Her mom is dead.

It’s my fault.

I was so wrapped up in my need to not let her go again that I didn’t realize I was holding her back from being with the one person who mattered to her. I kept her from saying goodbye to her mother. I kept her from those last, precious moments.

The pain in my heart is undeniable.

I took away her goodbye.

~*~*~*~

KATIA

Two weeks later

“She’s not coping.”

I stare out my window, listening to them all talk about me as if I’m not here. As if I’m just a ghost. Maybe I am. I no longer feel. Bitterness is lodged deep into my soul, and all I want to do is rip it out just to ease the pain. Marcus Tandem stopped me from going to my mother; he took the last precious moments of her life away. Now he has to pay.

It’s all I can think about. It consumes me day and night. Mixed with my grief is a brutal rage to make him suffer. I need to see him on his knees, begging for his life. I need to make him suffer, to make him feel so much pain he can’t cope. He took everything from me and he’s just walking around like nothing has ever hurt him.

“She’s not cried. She’s just sitting there, breaking.”

I’m snapped back to the here and now with Candy’s sad, worried voice. I don’t know why they’re worrying. I’m dealing. I’m coping. I’m doing what I have to do. I went back, I packed our things and moved into this house with Dad and Ford. I smile for Penny. I force myself to function every, single day. What more do they want from me?

“She needs time.”

That was my father.

“She needs help.”

That was Ford.

I close my eyes. I don’t need help. I need revenge. I need to tear Marcus’s world apart. I need to make him burn the way he let me burn.

“How’s things?” Wyatt asks, clearly coming into the conversation.

“Fine,” my father mutters. “What’s that?”

“Mail, redirected. It’s for Katia.”

“I’ll take it to her,” Dusty offers.

I hear his footsteps and a moment later, my door creaks open. I don’t turn. He walks in and clears his throat. I still don’t turn.

“Mail for you, sweetheart. I’ll just put it here.”

I hear him throw it down with a deep, defeated sigh, and then the door closes. I get up numbly and turn, walking over to the mail. Probably bills. My father paid for the funeral, but that doesn’t take away all the other bills that have accumulated over time. I flick through some of the letters, and stop when I see one from a life insurance place.

I tear it open and stare down at the words. It’s an update on our policy now my mom is gone. She was listed as one of the beneficiaries if Marcus or I were to die. Now she’s passed, they want an update. I stare down at the policy. I know we did it, but I forgot all about it. My eyes scan the words and I gasp when I see the amount I would receive if Marcus passed.

Five million dollars.