before I let him have it. He can’t be a killer. He can’t be like Nic. It’s one of the reasons that I’ve allowed myself to get so close. I can’t keep falling into this trap. Sure, I knew he was dark. Locking Jude up was proof of that, but he’s supposed to be the good one. He’s supposed to be the one with his head screwed on properly. I’m the mess in this relationship—not him.
Maybe I’m being too hard on him. After all, I nearly killed a guy myself, but he was the one bringing me back. He was the voice of reason, so if he did this, if he ended DeCarlo's life, does that make him a liar or just a hypocrite?
After checking all the places he could be on the lower level, I race up the stairs taking them two at a time. I go straight for his bedroom. It’s the only place he’d be up here.
The unknown kills me. I need answers. I need to know who I’ve been allowing myself to fall in love with. Without knocking, I throw his door open and find his room empty, only his bathroom door is slightly ajar. I don’t even think, my feet just take me there.
I slam my hand against the door and it instantly swings open.
I come to a screeching stop finding Colton standing before me. His hands are braced against the counter with his head dipped low, only the second the door slams against the expensive tiles, his sharp gaze snaps up.
I take in his reflection in the mirror, the panic that’s outweighed by the blood splattered across his face. I search his eyes for a brief moment, unable to determine what emotions are pulsing far too quickly through my veins.
My gaze follows the line of his body, hoping to whoever exists above that this is all some kind of fucked up mistake. I scan over his face, down his bare chest until I’m following the line of his strong arm to the counter where a black gun lies forgotten beside him.
I suck in a sharp gasp, shaking my head as the horror pulses through me. “No,” I whisper, begging for it to not be true.
Colton straightens up, not taking his eyes off mine through the mirror. I instantly back up, taking note of his blood-stained shirt laying on the bathroom floor.
He’s a murderer. A cold-blooded murderer.
“Jade,” he murmurs cautiously, slowly turning around to face me while raising his hand to prove some fucked up point that he’s not going to hurt me.
I take another step back.
“Jade, please,” he begs, stepping with me. “You need to hear me out.”
“You did it,” I whisper, terrified. Not terrified of him, but terrified of what he’s capable of doing. Is this the first time or has he done this before? “You killed him.”
Colton seeks out my wild, wide eyes and cautiously nods, attempting to step closer. “I did,” he admits, not prepared to keep a damn thing from me. His face breaks and for the first time, I see the agony beneath the surface. “I had too. I couldn’t let him live. Not after what he did.”
I shake my head, feeling as though I’m staring at some kind of stranger. I back up another step, my heart racing in my chest. When I almost killed Jude, I was a mess. I couldn't eat, I couldn’t breathe. I had to scrub his blood from my hands as soon as I could but Colton just stands here, perfectly fine and more worried about explaining himself.
If this was the first time …
Everything shatters inside of me and not in the way it did when I found out that Nic was cheating. Not in the way it did when I discovered who my father really was, not even when I found out that my Widows betrayed my trust. No, this is something much deeper. This is the kind of shatter that a girl will never recover from.
Tears begin forming in my eyes as I stare at a man who I’m starting to realize that I don’t know at all, a man who I thought I was falling in love with. Is it even possible to fall in love with a stranger?
A single tear falls down my cheek and splashes against my collar bone. “You’re a murderer,” I whisper, the lump in my throat making it nearly impossible to breathe. “You … you killed a man. You told me you were going to