Page 39

Fuck.
“Her?” I barely have the air to croak it out, the pulsating squeeze of my hands matching the heavy, fast thump of my heart against my tornado-torn chest. “You fucking called her?” I jerk my gaze upward, letting it land on Kaitlyn, still hovering near the door. Sharpen it into a glare and stab her with it. “You call Con… Patrick—not her…never her.”
Henley rocks back on her heels, moving away from me like I took a swing at her. I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry I hurt her. Keep hurting her but I don’t want her here. Can’t have her here. Not when I’m like this. Not when I could—
“You’re my brother.” When she reaches for my hands, I jerk them back, out of reach, and she sighs. “Ryan…” She says my name again, this time calm and soft, like she’s coaxing a wild animal out of a trap. “Tell me what happened.” When I don’t answer her, she sighs again. “I want to help—I can help—but you need to talk to me. Tell me—”
“Grace.” I grind her name past clenched teeth, the sound of her name setting off another round of demons screams. “She was here…”
Henley looks over her shoulder at Kaitlyn for confirmation because it sounds nuts. Why would Grace have come here? As far as Hen knows, Grace is just Cari’s little sister. She’s nothing to me. Less than nothing, but when Kaitlyn gives her an affirming nod, she doesn’t question it any further. “What about Grace?”
She sounds scared. Like she’s afraid of what I’m going to say next and she should be. She should be fucking terrified because I—
“I think I hurt her. She was here and I think I—” I look at Kaitlyn for confirmation. “Did I? Did I do something to her? Did I—”
“No.” Kaitlyn takes a step toward me and shakes her head, her hand still behind her back. “Grace is fine. She left. She was gone by the time you—”
Hey, Frankendick—who’s the hot little blonde? Think she’ll let me fuck her? I mean, it’s not like you’re fucking her, right? Maybe I’ll go find her. Show her what a real man can do to her. Maybe—
That’s as far as he got.
I wish I could say I blacked out. Blame my fucked-up brain for what happened next but I can’t. I remember every second. Felt every bone snap. Heard every scream.
And I liked it.
Had no intention of stopping.
Not until I killed him.
Maybe not even then.
The only reason he’s alive is because one of them ran for help and brought back an army of workers to pull me off of him.
I lift a hand to my face, the feel of it, clammy and shaking, enough to stir up the shame. Send it dipping and circling, ready to land the second I can take an unfettered breath. “Are you sure?” I look up to find Kaitlyn but she’s gone so I shift my gaze to where Henley is still kneeling on the floor in front of me. “Can you check? Can you call Con or Cari and—”
Henley flicks her gaze away from my face. Up and over my shoulder, a second before I feel a familiar burning pinch on the back of my arm, seconds before the black finally wins and swallows me whole.