Page 40

CHAPTER 40

REDLEY

Like. He. Killed. My. Parents.

A million thoughts run through my head, and unfortunately, none of them are helpful. The room around me is beyond anything I’ve ever imagined, and a red haze fills it up, made of my fury and devastation.

I lived outside of Grimm Groves for three years, and I made sure to see a lot in that time, but this is the home of an oil baron or something. I want to watch it burn to the fucking ground with his father inside.

It’s so strange to see Wolf in this setting. His chin-length hair is swept back and styled, his green button-down highlights his yellow eyes in this brilliant and fascinating way, and best of all, he’s wearing slacks. The killer, the monster I’ve chased all over the mountain and through the woods, is a rich, preppy boy dressed in more money than I’ve ever had in my life, and his father is the one I’ve been hunting.

“Are you okay, Redley?” he asks, using my full name to get my attention, but it isn’t working.

I think this might be worse than when I realized he was just a man rather than a supernatural entity. At least then we were on more level footing. I think I have a hell of a lot more in common with a monster who lives out in the woods than I do with a millionaire living with his murderous daddy. Hatred burns in every part of me, begging me to finally get revenge for the family who loved me.

“Your father,” I repeat. “Of course you have a father.”

It’s a stupid thing to say, given I’ve already accepted that he’s a human man, but somehow, him having a family never occurred to me. I can’t breathe right. Reality is a bitter pill to swallow, and it’s worse because it’s not just my own naivety but generations of it mixed with drunkenness and passed down through my family.

“Even most monsters have parents, Muffin.”

“Murderous, evil parents?” I ask.

If I’m not imagining it, I've offended him. Funny, I didn’t really think you could hurt a monster’s feelings either.

“My father is those things. My mother was one of his victims.” A pang of sympathy for him shoots through me, but I stuff it away. I can’t afford to let him dig his way in deeper.

My mind races, turning over the idea he has a family, just like mine, fucked up and mostly dead. Suddenly, a lot of things make more sense. Generations that seem to line up, patterns where there are extended periods between kills, and then they speed up. It was a cycle of men raising their sons, aging, dying, there weren’t enough of them to keep the kills constant. I feared Granny more than anyone I’ve ever known, so I suppose I can understand why he might be afraid of his father.

“You told me a while ago that there’s something worse in the woods than you. Did you mean him?” I ask.

Littles have been dying hard in these woods for a long time. Has it always been their family, or was the mantle passed on? His nostrils flare, his full lips pinching.

“I didn’t mean anything . You need to stop asking me questions when the answers will only get you hurt. As soon as it’s dark, I’m taking you back to your truck.”

“What has he done that you, of all people, are so scared, Wolf?” I square my shoulders but don’t even bother to try to threaten him with the gun. We both know I really won’t shoot. “What has he done to you ?”

His whole body tenses, but he doesn’t answer.

“I don’t give one crap what he’s done to me,” he finally says. “I’m worried about what he would do to you if he knew you were here.”

My heart warms in the strangest way, but it’s misplaced. I can take care of myself. He’s right that I’ve spent a lot of time taking potshots at him, but I won’t make the same mistake with his father. I want to spill his blood.

“I can take care of myself.”

His eyes flash in his anger. “He’s the man who taught me everything I know, and he’s a lot meaner than me. You’re only alive because I don’t want to kill you. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”

It’s my turn to laugh.

“Same for you, Wolf. I’m not actually a bad shot.”

The truth fills me up and hollows me out. All this time, I’ve been shooting at the wrong man. I’ve been aiming at him, but his son has stood in the way.

“You need to calm down,” he says, having the exact opposite effect.

“Has it always been your family?” I ask. “Why did all this start? Don’t you owe me an explanation at this point?”

He doesn’t say anything, but he won’t meet my eyes either, and that’s nearly as good as a confession. He knows everything. It’s always been them. I turn away from him, and he lets me go, but instead of sitting on the bed or something, I lift the gun, fully determined to go and pump the bastard who killed my brother and parents full of lead. Wolf might have earned my forgiveness for killing Granny, but I’ll never forgive the loss of my parents or brother.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” he asks as he rips it out of my hands and tosses it onto his bed.

It lands with a soft thud, nothing that anyone will hear.

My family was wrong about the origin of the Wolf but never about the fact that there was one. Generations of killers teaching their sons and targeting the people of Grimm Groves. He’s just the latest in a long line. I should have seen it sooner, but I was too caught up in my misconceptions and the impossibly good sex.

I open my mouth to scream. If he won’t let me face him on my own, I’ll force his hand. There’s no way I’m not going to take a shot at him. I’ll die in this house tonight and be done with all of this if that’s what it takes, but I refuse to just stand here. One strangled yell works its way out of my throat before Wolf uses both hands to silence me. One covers my mouth, and the other wraps around my throat, squeezing until I can’t even breathe, let alone complain.

His yellow eyes flash, pupils dilated in fear and anger. He listens for a long moment, not letting go, and despite the fact I incited this, I’m just as frightened as he is.

Footsteps echo down the hall, and I realize I’ve gotten what I wanted. They belong to the man who killed my family.

He's that close, and I called him.