Page 173 of His Reckoning

Kayla looks down at my shoulder instinctively, like she can see the mark through my shirt.

“And the other scars?” she asks softly.

I close my eyes briefly. “Those were worse.”

Her breath catches. “What happened?”

“One night he punched me in the face. It turned into a nasty black eye. He thought I was going to tell my dad, so he tried to scare me away from doing it.”

The memory flashes again. An empty kitchen with a smell of metal and the panic in Tony’s eyes.

“He grabbed a kitchen knife during the argument. I told him my dad was asking questions, and it was only a matter of time before he found out.”

Kayla goes completely still beside me.

“He didn’t stab me,” I say quickly. “Just … slashed.”

Her eyes widen. “Slashed?”

“Across my side.” I gesture vaguely toward my ribs. “It wasn’t deep.”

She stares at me like she can’t decide whether to scream or cry. “Sawyer …”

“He didn’t want to kill me.” The words sound strange, even to me. “He just wanted me to be scared enough to stay quiet.”

Kayla shakes her head slowly. “That’s still?—”

“I know.”

The whiskey burns down my throat again.

“And you stayed quiet,” she says softly.

I nod. “For three more years.”

Her eyes widen again. “Three years?”

“Until I left for college.”

The room goes silent.

Kayla squeezes my hand again. “You carried that by yourself the entire time?”

“Yeah.”

A few seconds pass before she asks the next question. “The family never knew?”

I shake my head. “No.”

She looks confused. “How?”

I lean back against the couch. “Because Tony died before I ever told anyone.”

Kayla blinks. “He what?”

“Heart attack.”

I stare up at the ceiling. “My first year at Columbia.”