Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
She reaches out to me, her hand hovering just above mine. “Damien, I don’t even know what to say.” I can see it all over her face, the conflict, her morals wrestling with what she feels for me. Exactly what I’m counting on.
“It’s a lot, I know,” I say, taking her hand. She doesn’t pull away, and that’s how I know I’ve got her where I need her.
She nods slowly. “It’s just…a lot. Almost too much to believe.” Her voice shakes, her breaths coming quicker. “I mean…how are you handling this?” She shakes her head. “These are serious accusations.”
“Yeah, they are,” I say, keeping my expression steady. “I was there. I lived it. You want to know me? Well, this is me. This is part of who I am.”
“Why didn’t you call the cops?”
I laugh, but it’s a bitter sound. “Call the cops? They basically lived at Hope House. They saw everything—fights, sexual assaults, theft—it was all documented. And they never did a damn thing about it. Not once. I get it now, but back then, I learned quickly: you can’t trust the police. Ever.”
“Jay?”
I nod. “Him, and others too. But yeah, Jay was there a lot, and he did nothing. I knew if there was any justice, it’d have to come from me. I had to make them pay for what they did—for what they took.”
“Okay,” she says slowly, like she’s still piecing it all together. “But why did you torture them? Disembowel the bodies? You’re not crazy. Are you?”
I let out a snort. Crazy? No. Psycho? Maybe. “It wasn’t just about killing them, Francesca. They took something from me. From Olivia. I had to take something back, make them feel what they put her through. They tortured her. Stole her virginity. Left her to die. I thought I’d lost her for good that day, and I vowed to never be weak again.”
I keep my gaze locked on hers, hoping she’ll see the man behind the monster.
After a long pause, she finally speaks. “I’ve been hunting the killer responsible for those deaths.”
“I know,” I reply, feeling the weight of her anger.
She leans forward, her voice sharp. “You were right under my nose.”
“Kitten, it’s not what you think. I did what I had to do.”
“You lied to me.”
I nod. “I did. And I’m telling you now because I don’t want to hide it from you anymore. But I had to get justice for Olivia.”
Her eyes narrow. “You think taking their lives is justice?”
“Revenge,” I say.
She stares at me with a blank expression. A poker face if you will. “Wow. You’re a serial killer, Damien.” Her words are barely a whisper, but they hit harder than any slap. “And I’m married to you.”
Francesca looks down, tracing her fingers along the grain of the table like she’s trying to gather her thoughts. I want to reach for her, explain, take her hand, but I don’t move.
“You know,” she says, finally breaking the silence, “I thought I knew the man I married. I thought he wouldn’t have lied to me. He wouldn’t have…” She trails off, taking a shaky breath, and something inside me feels like I’m dying.
“You say you don’t want to hide from me anymore, Damien, but now I’m the one who has to figure out what to do with this. With us.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Damien
After my talk with Francesca this morning, all I want to do is to see Olivia. I don’t know if Francesca is going to arrest me because she hasn’t said a word to me since our little chat.
Olivia’s progress means everything to me. I can’t let anything, or anyone interfere, but she needs to know in case I get locked up for life. I know it could still happen, but Francesca is my wife, and unless she secretly recorded me, which I don’t think she did, it’s her word against mine.
Would she want the world to know she’s been fucking a serial killer so intimately that she said, “I do?” While searching for said serial killer?
I don’t think so.
I step into Serenity House, donning my charming brother persona. Tara’s radiant smile hits me like a breath of fresh air in this otherwise suffocating place.
“Mr. Wolfe! It’s so good to see you.”
“Tara.” I nod. My actions this morning have made my heart race, but I need to ensure that Olivia is taken care of forever.
“You’ll be shocked at her progress,” she says with a smile, but my mind is so preoccupied that I can’t even manage a smile back.
I linger in the doorway, unable to step inside just yet. Seeing Olivia like this—light in her eyes, a small but genuine smile as she talks to Dr. Atkins—is almost too much to process. She’s come so far, and part of me doesn’t feel like I deserve to see it. After everything I’ve done in her name, all the blood on my hands, here she is, more at peace than I ever expected.