we can call the police, have them investigate, but how would that look on you? What if Bobbi left a trail that leads right back to you? What would happen to your other daughter?” Markus paused, tilting his head, his dark eyes staring hard at Wilde. His black hair was slicked back, his cheeks shaven. He truly was a devil in a suit. “With your wife gone, I could only imagine the fate Alice would have.”
The man buried his face in his hands.
I really hated seeing this. It reminded me of what Oliver’s sons had done to me three years ago, blackmailing me, getting me off the force even though nothing inappropriate happened between seventeen-year-old Celeste and me.
I wanted to go upstairs, but I didn’t trust anyone down here enough to take their word for anything, so I’d be present here instead. Jaz would be well taken care of by the others.
Jaz… God, I was so fucking glad she was safe. That girl literally was my everything, and I’d be nothing without her. I knew the others up there felt the same, which was the only reason I could focus on what was going on down here. One day at a time, we’d get through this. All of us.
Together.
Chapter Thirty-One – Jaz
The bloodied clothes sat on the floor just outside the tub. I didn’t care if they stained the tile or the grout; Ollie had money. He could always get a new bathroom. Or, you know, a new house.
Because my mom was dead. She was dead, and it still didn’t feel real.
Everything that had happened downstairs felt like a far-off dream, something I’d imagined, not something I’d lived through. Was that what trauma did to you? Did it make you lose your sense of time itself and who you were?
I wasn’t a killer, but I killed Bobbi, so I guess I couldn’t proclaim that anymore. I’d become okay with my guys killing, and now I’d become a killer myself. Just like them. Peas in a bloody pod.
The water from the showerhead pelted my back, and I stood there, staring off into space. The guys had left to pick out some clean clothes for me, along with finding something to patch my shoulder with, and I let myself drift off. How easy it would be for me to not be here, to just… stop all of this? Midpark had taken everything from me. Everything. How was I supposed to come back from that?
I stared down at my hands. Most of the blood on my skin had washed off, but a bit had gotten beneath the beds of my nails. Bobbi’s blood.
Maybe I zoned out, but the next thing I knew, someone else was in the shower with me. He’d taken off his clothes, and now stood less than a foot from me, studying me with eyes that knew too much.
Vaughn.
He said nothing, lifting a hand and running his fingertips down my cheek. Such a soft, gentle touch coming from a guy who could kill with no remorse. Not as wild as Dante, but perhaps even more deadly. His dark stare did not fall below my face, though his hand fell to my arm, careful to avoid the wound as it danced a line down it. He stepped closer and leaned his forehead against mine.
Standing below the water, I shut my eyes, focusing on his warmth, his steadiness, trying to get back to myself. “My mom is dead,” I whispered.
“I know,” he said.
“Bobbi killed her.”
Again, “I know.”
I swallowed, fearing the words I was about to say. “I killed her.”
Vaughn was silent then, yet another thing he already knew. You didn’t get doused with someone’s blood just by being a bystander, didn’t get to taste their blood by sitting back and watching. But, that said, I bet he didn’t know what I was about to say next.
My heart was wild in my chest, and I fought with myself before admitting it aloud, fearing what the repercussions might be. The damning of my soul? Who could say. “I think I liked it.” There. It was said. The darkest thing I’d ever thought, but that didn’t stop it from being true. “I watched her as she died, and I liked it.” My voice shook. “Finally being in control, finally stopping her from hurting anyone else.”
But that wasn’t it, was it? No, it was an intoxicating feeling, watching someone die, knowing you were the one who did it to them. I guess maybe I took after