“If you are standing here, trying to tell me you’re planning to go through with this garbage for me, I’m going to lose my fucking mind. I know you think caring about someone means being who they want and doing what they ask, but that’s so fucking wrong it’s not even funny.” Ransom shakes his head.

A nauseating, sinking feeling weighs down my body. “You can’t stop me.”

“Trust me when I say, I can, and I will.” He grabs my arms with firm hands, his blue eyes piercing mine. “I already knew it would be an uphill battle helping my sister, and I’ve been climbing it for almost two years now. I won’t stop, but this is about me and you.”

“This isn’t open for discussion.” I shake my head. “I told you, love kills.” Isn’t today a tragic reminder of that? “I lost my dad a long time ago, if I don’t do this, Anthony will ruin everything. I will lose my family.”

“You mean the people who have no regard for what makes you happy? Who are willing to trade you like a fucking stock?” He tilts my head up. “Don’t you get it, Trouble?” Ransom whispers, his thumb coming up to glide along my cheek. “I am your family, and you’re killing me.”

The back of my eyelids burn; a choking sound slipping from me before I can stop it and I begin to retreat.

He steps toward me, but suddenly Arsen is on his right, Beretta slowly appearing at his left. They don’t face me, but instead towards their friend, and when their hands fall on his shoulders, he slumps where he stands.

I quickly step around them, but as I get a few houses down, speed walking is no longer working, so I pull my heels from my feet and throw them in the grass. Barefoot, I run as fast as my body is able, as far as I can go without stopping.

I run for miles, walk for more, and when a car horn blares in my ears, I jolt, blinking for what feels like the first time.

I glance around, finding I’m standing in the middle of the street.

The car pulls up, and the woman inside asks if I’m okay, so I nod and make my way to the sidewalk, where two wrought-iron gates are pushed open, flowers lining the edges and a stone wall is stretching several hundred feet on both sides.

I look across the cream-colored wall, reading the big, bold letters along it.

Pacific View Memorial Park.

I have no idea how long I stand outside the gate staring, barefoot, but suddenly, my sister is beside me, her hand slipping into mine.

She doesn’t speak, and I don’t look at her, but together, we make our way through the entrance.