The Monster (Boston Belles #3) - L.J. Shen Page 0,9

every whim, and filling the hours he was away on business with shopping trips, doing each other’s hair, and more.

Now I was planning to go to med school so when I graduated, I could also take care of her physically. Jane Fitzpatrick always did detest visiting her doctors. She said they were judging her, misunderstanding her.

I couldn’t wait for the day I’d be qualified to replace her physician and check another box in the impossible wish list my parents had set out for me.

“I’m not afraid of monsters.” I squared my shoulders.

Pleased with my answer, he flicked my chin. “Maybe you’re one of us. You just said yourself you don’t know who you are.”

I tried to go after him. I wasn’t too proud to follow him around, ask him what he meant. But he was quicker, sliding out of the cart quickly, and with the feral grace of a tiger, he walked away.

He disappeared in the throng of swirling lights and bodies, evaporating into thin air, as monsters did.

I came here to drown.

Now, I could hardly breathe.

Three hours later, I was still buzzing with adrenaline and pain. I tried all the rides. Ate too much candy. Drank root beer on a bench and people-watched. The distraction did not dull the pain. I continued to play the moment I found out she was dead over and over again in my head like I was trying to punish myself for … what? Not stopping it? Not getting there sooner?

There was nothing I could have done to prevent it.

Wasn’t there? She asked you for help. You never gave it to her.

I looked for Monster all night, even when I didn’t mean to. My eyes wandered, scanning the lines and couples and throngs of people. I wondered if I’d made him up in my head. Everything about our encounter seemed unreal.

When I took a restroom break at the portable toilets, I noticed the back of the door was freshly engraved with words. Words that seemed intimately directed to my eyes.

Lust lingers, love stays.

Lust is impatient, love waits.

Lust burns, love warms.

Lust destroys, but love? Love kills.

S.A.B.

When the clock hit midnight, I gave up. I wasn’t going to find him.

My phone was blowing up, and I knew my parents were going to send a search unit if I didn’t come back home.

A missing seventeen-year-old girl was a non-issue if it had only been eight hours since you’d last seen her.

A missing seventeen-year-old oil heiress whose daddy was one of the richest men in the world sure was, though, and I had no doubt my family would raise a ruckus.

I was a Fitzpatrick, and Fitzpatricks should always be protected.

I glanced at my phone again.

Mother: I am getting increasingly worried. Just text me, please. I understand that you are upset, but you are upsetting us all by disappearing like this! I cannot get any sleep. You know how much I need my sleep.

Mother: Your father will be blaming me for this entire ordeal. I do hope this pleases you, Aisling. Getting me into trouble.

Oh, Merde. Put a lid on it, Mother.

Hunter: Da will have a heart attack, sis. Just sayin’ (more hugz from Cali).

Cillian: Stop being so emotional. She was the hired help.

Da: I am sorry for your loss, Ash. Please come home.

Leaves crunched beneath my feet as I made my way to Mom’s Volvo XC90. I was about to swing the door open, get inside, and gun it back to Avebury Court Manor, our house. That was when I heard it. A crunch that had nothing to do with my feet. My head snapped up in the darkness. Toward the edge of the parking lot, about three cars down from my vehicle, was a corner nestled between a thick line of trees leading to the woods by the highway. Secluded and dark.

“No, no, no. Please. I know I fucked up, but I promise, I’ll stop.”

Someone wailed. A man.

I squinted, ducking between my car and an Impala, peeking at the two figures under a thick mass of leaves. One of them was standing, holding a gun. The other was on his knees, in front of the standing figure, like he was praying to a merciless god. Maybe it was the fact I’d already witnessed one death tonight, but even though my adrenaline kicked in, I couldn’t muster the hysteria I probably ought to feel right now.

“Lying will get you nowhere,” the standing man clipped harshly.

“What makes you think I’m—”

“Your lips are moving,” the standing man kicked the man