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“I kept asking about you. Over lunch. Dinner. Wouldn’t let it go.” Her lips pinch together. “My”—sniff—“fault.”

Pain slashes through my chest. Hearing how much she cared. How she was willing to face her dad for me.

She shouldn’t have.

I wasn’t there to protect her.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Pressing my thumb on her bottom lip, I order her, “Speak.”

“He lost it that evening. His chair fell to the floor when he got up.” She clings to me. I shouldn’t be turned on. Shouldn’t get off on being the fucked-up man she turns to—the man she wants. I am. “He pushed my cheek against my plate. Into the lasagna. He didn’t care that I cried and begged him to let me go. Your mom sat there and did nothing.”

I could leave right now. Walk out of here with her over my shoulder. Barge into our parents’ home and mash their faces in the garbage disposal and turn it on.

Without losing my grip on Shiloh.

Without waiting to listen to her whole story.

She needs me to. I made her start, and I’ll be here to hear her out.

Besides, I have other people to kill before I get to them. And I will.

Her dad’s private investigator lurks outside her home. That lazy fuck was there when I left this morning. After Shiloh drove off to school.

He’s there while we’re here. When I get home tonight, I’ll kill him. Then I’ll play with Shiloh some more until Halloween comes. Until I kill the people who brought us together.

One of the darkest nights of the year. Two of the cruelest people I know will lose their lives.

By our hands.

Funniest thing, though? We’ll be able to slip in and out of their home wearing masks. How Shiloh’s dad hated mine. It’ll be the last thing he sees. Our masks will be what anyone on the street sees as well.

No one will suspect a goddamn thing since it’s Halloween.

“He’ll pay for this.” I’m not as calm as I would’ve liked. Electricity buzzes beneath my skin. It’s pushing emotion into my voice.

Despite my carefully laid-out plans. Despite knowing I’ll shred him to pieces for every fucking thing he’s ever done to her.

She’s my priority.

Getting out of here is, too.

Right after I make her talk to me.

I’ll show her how good it feels to be as vile as me. How hot she is for it.

My fingers bite into her chin, leaving indentations in her skin. “What happened after that?”

Her hand, so soft on my wrist, puts sickening images in my head. Like bending her over. Owning her so completely that she’ll know I’m her protector. That I won’t let anyone else ever hurt her again.

I do better than that. I pretend to be mildly human and listen to her.

“He belted me. Anywhere he could. My ass. My thighs. At first, it wasn’t horrible. Nothing he hadn’t done before.”

Pain concentrates in my chest. My ribs are about to crack. The guilt of being away while he beat her up, my God. The suffocating weight of it.

In a split second, a flash of anger pushes the guilt aside.

I see her and I see red. Rivers of it.