mind. Really. Maybe we should just back off and give Eliza her space.”
“Don’t worry,” Wade said silkily. “I won’t really haul her to your exhibit over my shoulder.” Liar. “I just plan to have a perfectly civil conversation with Eliza when I personally issue the invitation to her.”
Or rather his ultimatum. For the first time when thinking of an impending confrontation with Eliza, he wasn’t seized by annoyance. No, he was looking forward to pissing her off. And the best part? He might annoy the ever-loving hell out of her—the feeling was entirely mutual—but she damn well knew he didn’t bluff. So she’d have no choice but to come of her own volition. Or suffer the indignity of being hauled to the event by Wade.
THREE
ELIZA knew she’d been scarce ever since she’d received the call from the DA. She also knew she’d been avoiding her coworkers, which wasn’t the smartest thing in the world if she didn’t want them thinking, or rather knowing, what she was planning, what she must do at all costs. But the simple truth was she couldn’t bear to face them. Shame was a living, breathing presence that encompassed her heart and soul.
The people she worked for epitomized all that was good. No, they didn’t always do everything by the book. They broke the rules, but in the end, justice was served, and wasn’t that all that mattered?
One of her bosses disarmed a monster who posed no further threat, but then that hadn’t been true either. The bastard’s psychic ability and the fact he’d created a link to both Caleb and his now wife, Ramie, meant that even behind bars, he could exert his will and control, making the couple’s lives hell. He’d already used Caleb to hurt Ramie in a horrifying manner. The memory still sickened Eliza every time it came to mind. The only way to sever that irrevocable tie binding them to him was for Caleb to kill him. And he had. By putting a bullet through his evil, twisted brain.
Oh, they’d wiped down the scene. Made damn sure it had appeared as though Caleb shot in self-defense, planting a gun with no other prints into a madman’s hand, finger on the trigger. It may not have been the legal or moral thing to do. But it had been righteous.
Just as her mission was righteous. Maybe not to the public, the police, the justice system. But to the women he’d tortured and killed? To their families? To Eliza herself? Yeah, it was righteous. She doubted the families cared how he paid, just as long as he did. People couldn’t possibly understand or conceive the monster behind the polished, charming façade. But Eliza was acquainted with it better than anyone. Only she truly knew the depths of his evilness and it was only she who could end it all. Maybe that made her just as sick and twisted as Thomas was. Or perhaps it took evil to hunt evil.
Right now, the families of the victims had no doubt been told, just as she had been, that Thomas Harrington was being freed in a very short time. They were likely feeling every single emotion Eliza had felt—was still feeling. Betrayal. Rage. Sorrow. Grief. A deep sense of injustice. They had likely lost all faith in the justice system sworn to uphold the law and sworn to punish those who broke it. But they were helpless to do anything about it. They would dream of revenge and retribution. Of justice. But Eliza would serve it cold.
And this was where Eliza differed from the others who might entertain unholy thoughts of making Thomas suffer a long and painful death. She could do something about it. She would do something about it even if it meant her own death. In many ways she’d died ten years ago when she’d realized just how stupid and very naïve she’d been. So very gullible. She was as guilty and complicit in the murder of those women as Thomas himself and she’d never forgive herself for the atrocities committed. Yes, she had died and been reborn another woman. Eliza Cummings. She’d become Eliza and had embraced a new chance. The opportunity to start over. To make a difference. To help protect those who needed protection. To seek justice for those who couldn’t. And somehow she’d managed to buy into her new-but-not-real new identity. What a fool she’d been to ever think she could atone for her sins and outrun her past. Death