Page 102 of From Hell

I’ve no idea what present Jaxon thinks I’ll like, but it can’t be good.

Sage and my dad are outside my cottage when the taxi pulls up on the mews road outside my house. There’s also a crowd of nosy neighbors staring at me and whispering among themselves when I turn around after paying the taxi.

Ignoring the busybodies, I hug Sage and send her home before her parents send out a search party, with a promise to call her in the morning and then get an update from my dad.

Nothing survived.

Reeling from the shock, numb from the cold, even with the foil blanket one of the female firefighters coddled me into, I hold Tigger on my lap, clutching his soft fur, as Dad drives me to Mum’s house where I still have a bedroom. After several minutes of calming Fiona down and saying good night to Kendall, I retreat to bed.

But it’s only when I go up to my old room, shock clamping down as I reach for the knife in my purse, that horror finally scratches through my insides.

There, on the pillow, rests another bloody letter.

36

THE RIPPER

My little bird has been hiding all this time, and now she’s back.

Risen from the dead.

I’ve been biding my time, waiting. Playing with her, toying with her tainted emotions, seeing just how far I can push her to the edge. And now she knows I’m back, nothing can keep me from her.

Not Jaxon nor fate.

But first…

I follow Addison from the little bird’s house. He has my letters. He means to use them against us.

Jaxon allowed me to take this one. See, I can almost hear him say,occasionally, I let you have fun. But tonight isn’t just about fun, it’s about respect and protecting what’s mine. It’s going to be fucking carnage. There’s no sweet thing to stalk. This isn’t one of Jaxon’s carefully chosen victims that meets more than just blood type and health.

Oh, the good doctor, Jaxon, loves to ensure that those I rip apart have secrets so terrible, pasts so fucked up, they deserve to die. They have to match his standards of being morally corrupt before I’m allowed to be unleashed.

Jaxon always does what Daddy wants, finding donors for his clinics, but Father respects only me.

The Foundation relies on me.

And Jaxon would be nothing without the Ripper. I made him who is today, no one else.

Addison doesn’t see me until it’s too late. He reeks of gasoline from setting fire to the little bird’s belongings, trying to erase her. That’s my job. No one fucks with me and gets away with it.

The snarl escapes my lips as I sneak up on him as he tries to unlock his car. I smashed in the lock so he couldn’t. He doesn’t see me until it’s too late, my hands slotting around his neck, squeezing until he chokes.

Don’t kill him yet.

Usually, Mr. Uptight doesn’t get involved. He likes to sleep when I’m awake, pretend what I do is a fucking dream. To have him lurking in the depths, skulking where he usually keeps me prisoner, is amusing.

“How does it feel, brother, to be at mercy to the madness?” I hiss with a laugh.

We can share her.

“What?”

If you wanted her dead, she’d be in pieces by now. You didn’t kill her last night.

With a grunt, I drop Addison to the ground, gasping. “Oh, she’s going to die. I’ll carve her slowly so you get to enjoy every scream.”

“You fucking psycho,” Addison huffs when he sees me. “I’ll kill you.”