“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had a target on my back,” Bailey shrugged, glad that the other was starting to crumble, even just a little.
“Believe me, I know it’s hard to walk away from something when you’re afraid of what might happen if you do, and I know it gets harder still the longer it goes on. I was fifteen when they got me out. Before that, all I’d ever known was being trapped and abused. I still have nightmares about it, but being free, even with the risk it came with? I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
“They’re my family…” But argument sounded weak even to himself.
He had no other concept of what family was aside from what he saw in public. Small children without a bruise on them, parents kissing scuffed knees and freely giving affection. Things he had never had. His mother had her moments in absolute privacy, away from the prying eyes of other pack mates, but he also knew she had killed the child born before him. He had watched her reactions when they killed his father and she had seemed far too pleased over it.
He had no illusions when it came to his mother. She would be the one to personally kill him if he ran.
ofviolentdeath 