The Nines (The Nines #1) by Sierra Avalon, Dakota Madison Page A

personality make her seem a lot bigger than she actually is.
    As I inhale the sweet scent of her shampoo I enjoy the brief moment of having her in my arms. I know it won’t last—that it can’t last—but I want to make it last for as long as I can. Beauty and the Beast is a fairytale. Gorgeous girls like Roxie don’t fall for hideous monsters like me in real life.
    And if I’m being totally realistic I know there won’t ever be a girl who will want me. I don’t expect to ever date, or fall in love, or get married. I’ve already come to terms with the loss of that part of my life.
    But I think that realization makes a moment like this even more special. It’s a rare moment I may never have again.
    And just like that it’s over. Roxie pulls away so that she can blow her nose and wipe her tearstained cheeks.
    “I’m sorry.” She shakes her head, a bit flustered. “I didn’t mean to break down like that. I’m not usually like this at all.”
    “It’s okay.”
    Now she’s shaking her head even more vigorously. “It’s not okay. It’s really not.”
    “You need to tell me what’s going on. I’m still a little in the dark here.”
    “Can it wait until after we find Claire?”
    I shake my head. “No. This first. Besides I can’t do much until her boyfriend sends the photos.”
    She looks around the living room. “Can we sit down?”
    “Sure.” I make my way over to the couch and take a seat.
    I’m surprised, but also a little thrilled when she sits down right next to me.
    After a moment she takes in a deep breath then lets it out. When she looks at me her eyes seem filled with shame. What could this angel possibly have done for her to look like that?
    “I didn’t think I’d ever be telling this to anyone. I was hoping that I wouldn’t have to. I wanted to leave my past behind me, but it seems to have not only caught up to me to run ahead of me and is waiting for me to catch up with it.”
    I wait for her to continue.
    She brushes at a stray tear that has fallen down her cheek, but doesn’t quite manage to wipe it all away.
    I can’t help but move my hand toward her face and wipe away the tear with my thumb. My hand lingers there a little longer than it should. Her skin is so soft and so unblemished. It’s nearly perfect. As I continue to move my thumb down her cheek and then over her chin she closes her eyes for a brief moment and allows me to touch her face.
    “You’re beautiful,” I whisper so faintly, I don’t think she’ll hear me.
    But when she gives me the faintest of smiles in return I know she’s heard my declaration.
    “You need to stop,” she says finally.
    And I do. Much to my chagrin. I could touch her face for an eternity and never tire of it.
    “I won’t blame you if you hate me once you hear the truth.”
    “I could never hate you.”
    She gives a single cold laugh. “Never say never.”
    “Please just tell me.”
    She swallows and then says, “I legally changed my name. When I left Massachusetts. My birth name is Rovzan Baiev.”
    It takes a moment for her words to sink in. Timur Biaev, the Back to School Bomber, had a younger sister. She was two years younger than we were. She was mentioned in the news a lot, but they only ever showed one photo of her. It was an old yearbook photo. When I saw it I remember thinking to myself how innocent she looked. Roxie’s grown up a lot since then.
    When our eyes meet I see so much pain, and humiliation, and fear in her big brown orbs.
    I’m not sure how to feel. I want to feel anger and bitterness, but it wasn’t Roxie who set off the bombs. I’m not even sure if she was close to her brother.
    “Did you know he was going to do it?” I ask. “Could you have stopped him?”
    She shakes her head. “I wish I had known. I wish I could have stopped him. But he didn’t talk to me. We hadn’t been close in several years. But I still feel like I should have done more. Like I should have known. There were signs that things