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Chapter Nineteen

SKYLA

Waiting to kill someone is the most boring part of the kill. The moments between the hunt and the actual kill should be exciting, thrilling. A gearing up to the great finale.

But not for me. Having our prey in sight and having to wait for the perfect time to strike bores me. Makes me wish that I was dead.

The blood pouring over my hands, the life draining from their eyes, now that’s the fun part.

I duck back into the shadows as Logan twists to look over his shoulder.

Time seems to slow around me as I lean back against the brick, the rough surface biting into my shoulder through my black t-shirt.

Hurry up and get home, you stupid bastard.

It’s a warm night, and the humidity is setting in.

The last thing I want is to be stalking my ex through the wet summer heat because the man I’ve fallen for, my fake husband, only pretends to be a badass.

If I don’t want Joshua finding out the truth about me, sooner or later, I need to kill Logan. With Logan dead, there won’t be anyone to let the cat out of the bag. None of my family are going to turn against me. Not when they pretend that the monster doesn’t exist.

It’s fine for Royce and Aiden to be who they are, but if I even think about showing the worst parts of myself, I’m an outcast from the family yet again.

I should have stayed in Vermont. At least there, I didn’t have everyone breathing down my back and wondering when the next time I snap is going to be.

I peek out from around the corner as Logan starts to walk again.

His collar is flipped up, and his hands are stuffed deep in his pockets. He doesn’t look like he’s up to anything, but I know him better than that.

It’s going to be so nice to see his blood staining that horrible carpet in the living room.

He turns the corner and walks past the first two homes, coming to a stop at his own and digging for his keys.

I stand across the street in the shadows, leaning against a tree and pretending to look at something on my phone, my body angled away from his house.

The soft click of the door comes from across the street.

I turn to face the house, watching as warm yellow light comes through the windows, illuminating the dark yard.

If Joshua had just taken care of his brother last week, I wouldn’t have had to spend days stalking Logan and figuring out his routing. This is nothing but a waste of my time.

I could be going after someone worth my time. Someone else who also deserves to die for everything they’ve done.

Instead, I’m watching Logan turn on the music in the living room, bopping around while he makes dinner in the kitchen.

When his back turns to the window, I draw closer to the house, sneaking around the side in the blind spots left by the cameras.

He never listened to me when I told him how to protect the house. He thought he knew better.

Not once did he ever think that the threat he was trying to avoid was living with him at the time.

I could kill him right now. Maybe put his hand on the hot burner first and listen to the sizzle of skin, the stench filling the house. Or I could stick his head in the pot of boiling water. It might be fun to listen to him scream for his life.

As I make my way to the side door, all I can think about is the way he’s going to die. So many possibilities circling around in my mind.

Taking my time with him would make him think I care about him, though.

I don’t. I just want him dead and out of the way so I don’t have to keep looking over my shoulder.

So Joshua doesn’t find out the truth and kill me.

Because he could. I saw it in his eyes when we were in my office last week.

There was something crazed there. Something that didn’t make me feel like I was going to survive the marriage.

With Logan dead, there’s one less variable to speed up my death.

I reach for the side door, but I stop when Bella’s soft voice comes from the other side.

The dark pit in the bottom of my stomach grows bigger.

There’s part of me that wants to go in there and kill her too. I should for everything that she did to me.

Too many bodies to deal with, though.

And if I were to go in there and only kill Logan, then I would have to rely on Bella keeping her mouth shut.

She’s already proven that she’s a shit friend. Now that she doesn’t have even a speck of loyalty to me, not that I’m sure she had any to begin with, there’s nothing promising that she wouldn’t run straight to the police.

I guess this is your lucky night, Logan.

I take a deep breath and ease back from the house, staying in the blind spots until I’m across the street and down an alley.

Time for plan B.

Martina Esposito sighs and runs her hand through her hair, her phone pressed to her ear. “We need to send someone to get Gia to come home.”

She gets into her car, tossing the obscenely large purse onto the passenger seat beside her.

I look down at the guard tied at my feet.

He keeps trying to force the gag out of his mouth, but it’s useless. His hands are bound behind his back, and his feet are secured together.

“Looks like she’s gone.” I smile bright as I take the knife and slide it through the rope around his feet. “You’re going to walk yourself into the kitchen. If you do anything stupid, this is going to hurt a lot more.”

His eyes widen and sweat beads on his forehead.

I motion with the gun to the back door.

He walks over to it, his head hung and his shoulders tense.

I keep the gun aimed at him. Most of the time, people try something stupid when their life is on the line.

As soon as we’re in the kitchen, I slide my gun into the holster around my thigh.

It’s been too long since I got to kill someone. I’m going to take my time with this.

At least, as much time as I can before someone discovers him missing from his post.

I take the butcher’s knife from the block before motioning at the table. “Take a seat.”

He does as he’s told. It’s as if there’s some part of him that thinks he’s going to be coming out of this alive. Or maybe he’s already accepted his fate and wants to make this as easy as possible.

Either way, Zoe’s head is going to explode when she finds out about the decoration I’m leaving for her mother.

Crouching down, I rip two tea towels from the handle of the stove, using them to secure the man’s feet to the chair.

He could try to run, but it wouldn’t go well for him. Can’t be any worse than dying, though.

Oh, wait. Yes, it can.

Humming, I untie the man’s hands before dragging one onto the table. I hold it in place, bringing the knife down on his wrist as hard as I can.

His muffled scream rises high above my humming.

This would be faster and a cleaner cut with a cleaver, but this works too.

A few slices later, and I pick up his severed hand and pat him on the face with it. The color is drained from his face, and blood is pouring from his wrist.

“Other hand, please.” I keep my tone sweet and smile bright while motioning to the table with my bloodied knife.

He shakes his head.

Arching an eyebrow, I stand on the other side of his body, hauling his hand up onto the table.

I bring the knife down on his wrist, hot blood spraying against my face.

“You know, it’s a shame that you’re such a bleeder. I really liked this shirt.”

He looks like he’s on the verge of passing out. Whether it’s from blood loss or watching me pull out a pot and put it on the stove, stuffing his hands inside, I don’t know.

I glance at him before going to the fridge and ripping open the door, finding the jug of milk. After unscrewing the top, I hold the bottle to the blood seeping from his body. “This is probably the nastiest milkshake I’ve ever made.”

His eyes widen before he passes out, his head hitting the table with a thud.

“What a shame. I was looking forward to spending more time together.”

When the blood flow slows, I put the cap back on the milk before shaking it up and putting it back into the fridge at the back where I found it.

Though the mess in the kitchen may be cleaned up by the end of the night, it’s probably going to take a day or two to find that.

I put some water on the pan and look for the salt and a few spices.

I season the hands and put them on the stove to boil. A nice little meal in case they come home hungry.

“Well, now that my fun is over…” I sigh and draw a filet knife from the knife block, using it to slice the man’s throat.

While I untie him from the chair and shove him to the ground, I hum a funeral march, my adrenaline pumping high, making me giddy.

It’s been too long. I’ve kept this part of me locked away for the better part of a year now.

I don’t know if I’m going to be able to stuff her back in the box as I carve get fucked, Zoe into his chest.

“What the hell were you just doing in there?” A voice hisses through the night as I step out of the house and shut the door behind me.

My heart pounds as I turn.

Joshua.

Where the hell did he come from?

I shrug, tucking my hands in my pockets. “Taking care of a problem.”

“Not good enough.”

“Going to have to be.” I stand inches from him, looking up at his icy glare and feeling like I’m on top of the world. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll forget that you ever saw me here.”

His eyes widen, and for the first time since I met him all those years ago, he actually looks scared. Of me or what I’m capable of, I don’t know. I doubt he does either.

He hasn’t seen the carnage inside.

He doesn’t know anything.

Maybe one of these days, he’ll find out, but today certainly isn’t going to be the day.

I pat his chest. “Some things are better left in the dark, Joshua. You should remember that when you decide to follow me again.”

Aiden hands me a lit joint as we sit out back beside the pool. “I didn’t think this was going to be a problem here.”

I glance at the bag of bloodied clothes before taking a drag, holding in the smoke for a moment before blowing it out. “You knew it was going to be a problem anywhere you dragged me to.”

“Are you losing control?”

“Nope.” I twist the joint to the side, looking at the glowing end before bringing it to my lips again. “I got stressed out, and I needed someone to take it out on. At least this time, it was productive.”

“I’m not sure if that’s true.” He looks down at the ripples in the water that form when he drags his feet through it.

For a moment, it feels like we’re young again and staying up late at night, talking about how the two of us are possibly going to be able to keep our siblings in line.

We’re no longer two siblings who are constantly at each other’s throats and vying for power.

“Joshua saw me coming out, though.”

Aiden stiffens. “Is that going to be something else to worry about?”

“Doubt it. I don’t think he knows what he saw, and even if he did, there’s not much he can do about it.”

“What did he see?” Aiden reaches for the joint.

He brings it to his lips, blowing out a large cloud of smoke a few seconds later, glancing over at me.

“Only that I came out of the house with blood on me. I think.” I lean back and look up at the two lonely stars in the sky. “I don’t think he’s going to say anything more about it, though.”

“If he does, are you prepared to take care of it?”

No.

“Yes.”

Aiden just nods, his lips pressed together before his heavy sigh fills the air. “So, want to tell me what this was about?”

“Zoe. She came to visit me at the laundromat the other week. Same day you were there. Told me that she had no interest in negotiating.”

“And you’re just now telling me this?” His words are biting and sharp. “What the fuck, Skyla.”

“Don’t scold me like I’m a child. She didn’t hurt anyone. And I let her go because she was the reason we were able to save Gia. Now, we’re even on that front.”

“Yeah, well, it seems like we’re going to have more problems with her. She may be laying low right now, but that’s only because she’s been meeting with your husband’s friend, Emily Granville.”

The blood in my veins freezes as I sit upright and look at him. “That sounds an awful lot like an accusation, Aiden.”

“Shouldn’t I be accusing your husband when he’s involved with this shit?

We didn’t have any reason to so much as think about trouble from the Granvilles, and now that you’re married to him, it seems like they’re going to be a problem.

You can’t blame me for wondering if that has something to do with him. ”

“I can blame you, and I do.”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t be like that. You know if you were in my position, you would be suspicious, too. Especially after everything we’ve been through.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, considering his words for a couple of minutes. “Joshua isn’t involved in anything.”

“Can you say that without a doubt?”

No.

“Yes.” I get to my feet and dust off my borrowed sweatpants before leaning down and grabbing the bag of bloody clothing. “I’ve got to go. I’m going to have a late night at the laundromat trying to get this blood out.”

Aiden sighs and stands with me. “I don’t want you to go back home and tell Joshua about this. Promise me that you’re not going to tell him.”

I give Aiden a flat look. “He’s my husband. If he asks what you and I were talking about, it doesn’t seem right to lie to him.”

Aiden walks with me to the gate that leads out to the driveway. “You’re lying to him about so much already, what’s one more thing?”

I don’t bother to tell him that “one more thing” could cost me my life.

Aiden doesn’t need to worry about anything else on top of all the shitshow our lives have become.

Not when I can handle this on my own.

I think .