Aequitas by Hope Anika (best ebook pdf reader android txt) 📖

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it is.” Cian took a step toward her, his features hard in a way that she’d not seen before, the mercenary he’d once been bleeding through. “You’ve no right to appear from thin air and discredit who she is. To tell her she’s wrong; to doubt her. You’ve no grounds to destroy her father—a man she loves and with whom she credits her very survival—simply because you expected to be her savior. I ken your heart is broken, a rứnsearc. But you’ve no right to break hers in return.”

Honor stared at him. Something within her was shriveling, dying, and he thought she was being…selfish?

Maybe you are.

She damn well didn’t care. “Her entire life is a lie. You think I’m supposed to be okay with that?

“Nay.” Cian shook his head. “But if you want to be part of her life, you have to accept it.”

“The hell I do.” Honor turned to fling her clothes inside her pack. She zipped up her laptop and tossed it in. Adrenaline was spearing through her like an illicit drug; the roar of her blood was deafening. ‘Till death do us part. Right. “You’re so full of shit.”

“What did you just say?” Cian asked softly, and although his tone sent a sudden chill spearing through her, she only laughed, a harsh, jagged sound that hurt.

“You! You’re full of shit. Love and marriage and babies.” She mocked him, her tone cutting, tears burning in her throat. “What a line.”

“Honor.”

Again, she ignored what she heard—whatever it was. “I’m leaving.”

Hard hands gripped her shoulders and swung her around to face him. She didn’t want to look into his glittering eyes; inhale the scent of him. Stand in his shadow and watch the pulse tick in his jaw.

You’re such a fool. Fucking fucked. No doubt about it.

“You can be angry with me for telling you what I think,” he said, so quietly the hair at her nape bristled. “But have no doubt I meant every word I said last night.”

Honor stared up at him, tears turning him into a water blur. “Let me go.”

His hands tightened. “So you can run? Because that’s what you do when it gets hard—you run.”

She stiffened. “Let. Go.”

But his hold only became something to break. “Back to your cold, empty tower where you will hide in the darkness and carve men into pieces.”

“Fuck you and your judgment,” she grated. “Let me go. Now.”

“I’m not judging you, a rứnsearc.” Cian’s hands flexed on her. His jaw was like granite. “I’m trying to stop you from doing something you will bitterly regret for the rest of your life. Because I bloody-well care about you, Honor.”

She shook her head, and a tear slid down her cheek. So stupid. “Let go.”

“Lass—”

“No,” she said again. “Take your hands off me. I’m leaving.”

“Just like that?”

“Exactly like that.”

His hands tightened, and his mouth hardened. For a long, painful moment, he didn’t move, and a sob caught in her chest. Too good to be true. Everything always was.

“Fine,” he said, his tone clipped. He let her go and stepped back. “I thought you were braver, a rứnsearc. Clearly, I was mistaken.”

“Clearly,” she said. She turned and grabbed her pack, brutally aware that her heart was shattering, deep, jagged fissures that left nothing whole.

When she turned back around, Cian stood staring at her, his eyes glinting, his hands fisted at his sides. His face was cold, the face of the stranger she’d always know he was. Regret and anger churned in her chest; words welled in her throat.

But she didn’t speak them. Instead, she swung her pack over her shoulder and did what she did best.

She ran.

Chapter 8

“He’s right, you know.”

Honor didn’t turn and look at Sam, even though she could feel his gaze—patient and steady and without censure. Part of it was because she didn’t want to start bawling again—which was about all she’d done since flying away from Cian two days ago—but mostly it was just shame.

Because Sam wasn’t telling her anything she hadn’t already figured out for herself. That her inclination to destroy Hannah’s self-appointed father was selfish and misguided and would only burn what little remained between her and Hannah to ash.

If anything remained at all.

Because that’s what you do when it gets hard—you run.

She flinched. The truth did hurt, she thought.

Like a bitch.

“Honor,” Sam said, his tone gentle but stern.

Sam. Who’d taken one look at her standing in his doorway and demanded, “Whose ass am I kicking?” Who’d pulled her into his arms and his home and told her how glad he was to see her.

And meant it.

Family. All that she had; the sole living person who’d ever given a damn about her.

Then. But not now. And her stupid heart wouldn’t let her forget it.

I bloody-well care about you, Honor.

For years the only thing she’d wanted was Hannah, and that want, it had hurt. Every day. But not like this… Hannah had been taken, but Cian…

Cian she’d run from. And the regret was bitter and sour, and it threatened to choke her with every breath.

“Maybe he shouldn’t have lied to you,” Sam conceded. “But people fuck up. Hell, if it was me, I wouldn’t have told you the truth. You like to think you’re calm and logical and reasonable. Truth is, you’re reactionary and hot-headed and you’d have burned the whole damn place down to the ground without thinking twice.”

She flinched again. “Not helping.”

“Honey, pride is expensive,” he replied softly. “I’m trying to save you some change.”

The porch swing beneath them creaked as he moved it back and forth. Sam’s log home sat nestled in the Cascade foothills, just outside of Silver Bend, Washington, surrounded by a pine forest and thick stands of fluttering aspen. A quiet, peaceful place filled with wild lupine and sleek, caramel-colored elk; the sound of the nearby stream was like a balm to the soul.

She should have visited earlier, and being here now only made her realize what she’d missed. Inside, she could hear Sam’s fiancé Lucia talking to Ben, their youngest ward, who chattered nonstop, like an excited bird. Lucia, too, had welcomed Honor with open arms, her smile so warm and beautiful, Honor had immediately understood why Sam had fallen head over heels in love.

She couldn’t hear Ben’s brother Alexander, but she’d seen him last night at dinner, his face drawn as he studied her with eyes that saw far too much.

A tragically old soul. And he knew. He knew that three months ago—while Sam and Lucia were on the run, fighting to save the boys from the monster who was their father—that Honor had been the one to share with the world the truth about Donovan Cruz—that it was her who’d shown the world what he’d done—and in doing so, she’d changed Alexander’s life, for both the better and the worse. It had been unavoidable, and something she would do again, but having to answer for it…that was new.

And unwelcome. Another bitter lesson being served up.

On the flight from Tallinn, somewhere over the Atlantic, Honor had realized that perhaps it was time for Aequitas to fade quietly away. Not that she was done with her work—not by a long shot—but the identity had become a liability and was no longer safe to utilize. A huge undertaking—because it meant reworking her entire life—but to continue was simply foolish. Aequitas had served its purpose.

It was time to move on.

“Pride can take everything,” Sam added. “If we let it.”

Honor stiffened, staring out into the thick green stand of pine trees. Far off in the distance, Mount Rainier shimmered, veiled by wispy clouds and fresh snowfall. The scent of something spicy and delicious floated through the open window behind them, and her stomach murmured in interest.

“I can’t,” she said shortly. The ache in her chest grew painfully sharp, as if someone had pushed a spike through her heart.

“Being wrong is hard,” Sam replied, “but not insurmountable.”

Honor scowled. “It isn’t just pride.”

“Isn’t it?” Sam arched a brow, the one which bore a long, ugly scar. From his father, Honor knew, but the details of that incident were something he’d never shared. And she hadn’t pushed, she realized suddenly, because she’d been wholly wrapped up in her own painful scars.