With Every Breath (Slow Burn #4) - Maya Banks Page 0,73
quieted and resumed her story.
“And then one day, I asked off from the diner. Told them I was sick. I told Thomas I was feeling unwell and he acted so concerned. He brought me soup to the boardinghouse, fussed over me and told me to stay in bed and rest. I waited until he left and then I followed him.”
Wade closed his eyes. Even at sixteen Eliza had possessed a strong sense of justice. She could say what she wanted about being blinded by love and that she had been firmly rooted in denial, but if she hadn’t wanted to know the truth, she would have never sought out proof of her suspicions.
“He owned several properties. As I said, he was a wealthy man. A real estate developer and he was well liked by the locals. He’d donated a shelter to the town and quite a bit of money for its operation and upkeep. He told me he’d done so because of me. Because he never wanted a child to know the kind of upbringing I’d been forced to endure. He went to such lengths to perpetuate an elaborate hoax that it’s truly mind-boggling.
“I followed him to an older house he was in the process of having renovated. There was a fully intact concrete reinforced basement with soundproof walls. Oh God,” she choked out, stopping in midsentence to bury her face in his chest once more.
Wade stroked her hair, pressing kisses to the crown of her head as he murmured soothing words of encouragement.
“While he had a construction crew working on the rest of the house, he held women in the basement and tormented them, delighting in the fact that help was only a short distance away and yet no one could hear them scream. When I saw . . .”
“What did you see, baby?” he prompted gently.
“Hell,” she said bleakly. “I saw hell.”
“What happened?”
“I snuck down the stairs leading into the basement and the first thing I remember is the smell. Blood. So much of it. And rot. Decomposing human flesh. It made me sick, but I knew I had to be strong and I couldn’t give away my presence.”
“Smart girl,” he murmured.
She ignored him and went on, her eyes locked on some faraway point, lost in her nightmare.
“There was blood everywhere. The floor, the walls. It was as though he purposely splattered it. There was one woman already dead, but she was barely recognizable as a woman or even a human. He’d tortured her so badly that all that remained was . . . pulp,” she said in horror. “But there was one who was alive. The one he was playing with and toying with. And what he said to her. God, I’ll never forget what he said to her as long as I live.”
Wade squeezed her but remained silent.
“He apologized to her. Told her he was sorry but that he couldn’t ever do these things to his precious love. That I was perfect and he would never touch her—me. He was talking about me, Wade! Said he could never touch me with anything but love and tenderness and so he had no choice but to slake his desires on other women. He told her not to worry, though, that he wouldn’t keep her much longer. That her torment would end today and she would finally be at peace. Then he asked her to forgive him. Forgive him! I wanted to throw up. I wanted to scream. I wanted to save her, but all I did was stand there where he couldn’t see me, so horrified, so terrified and disgusted that I couldn’t move.
“She told him to go to hell, that she would never forgive him. That she hoped he rotted in hell. He was so enraged that he killed her right there in front of me.”
“Oh baby,” Wade whispered, his eyes burning.
He buried his face in her hair and rocked her gently back and forth, holding her as she trembled violently in his arms.
“I got out of there as quickly as I could and went to the police. They called the DA in immediately and questioned me for hours. Asked me if I was certain of what I saw. As if I could forget.” She shuddered. “I’ll never forget. I still see those images when I close my eyes at night. Not a day has passed that I don’t remember.”
“So what happened then?” Wade asked.
“They arrested him. The dead woman I’d seen was no longer there and