Page 105 of From Hell

He’s going to come in. One flimsy door isn’t going to keep him out. Keeping the gun aloft as he showed me, I stalk toward it. If he comes through, I’ll shoot him. Point blank, I’ll put a damn bullet in his head.

But nothing stirs. Cautiously, my heart beating so loud it’s like a banshee in my chest, I look through the spy hole.

There’s no one there.

Where is he? In the house’s silence, faint banging can be heard. Fear plummets through every part of my body, freezing me in place.

The house is as quiet as a cat about to pounce as I check each room to be sure. The door that leads to the Jaxon’s wine cellar is in the hallway. I’ve only been down there once, when Jaxon gave me the grand tour. There’s a way to get in other than the stairs on the other side of this door leading down—a garden entryway way.

As I turn the bolt, my whole body tenses. There’s no one waiting on the other side of the door. Bile burns up the back of my throat as I step through, gun poised, safety off. Only a few stairs creak, but everything else is still like time has stopped. The light is on, which in itself spikes panic in my veins.

If Jaxon is down here, I’m going to kill him. The mantra repeats in my head until I come to a stop at the bottom stair, eyes wide, pulse thumping loudly in my ears, drowning everything else out.

Addison is tied to a chair. All I can see are his eyes, twin slits of rage, as he strains against the tape over his mouth and the cable ties locking him down. His face is beat up and bloody, and his suit shirt is spattered with blood.

There’s a red bow around his neck. The type you get on a wrapped gift. On the floor, in front of Addison is an urn.

When you’ve dealt with it, come over to mine. I’ll have a present for you that I think you’ll like.

Addison is the last monster on my list. He would be the hardest because he frightens me the most, so I was leaving him until the end. Unexpectedly, ice thaws in my chest a little.

But then shame curdles my insides despite it. It doesn’t matter now. Our partnership, however fleeting, is over. I was saving the Ripper til last. Jaxon was going to help me get him, too. How ironic. I fell for his bullshit when it was Jaxon all along, even when I knew, deep down, that it was.

Keeping my gun firmly trained on Addison, I stalk over to the urn and grasp the lid. Inside are old, worn pennies, hundreds of them. Fuck. I dig out my phone and call my lover slash tormentor one last time.

“What am I supposed to do with him?”

“I see you’ve found my present.”

“You brought him home. Isn’t that bad? Won’t there be traces of evidence?”

“Let me worry about that.” His voice carries like he’s close, in the same room, and suddenly, he is…stepping out of the darkness between wine racks. Muscles tightening, I react, two hands on the gun, phone slipping from my ear and clattering to the floor. But all he does is smile when he sees me stagger back, swinging the gun to him, and clicks off the call.

“Stay back.”

“I just came to give you this. I made you a promise.” Jaxon steps forward, opens his hand, and offers me a shiny silver object. It’s a surgical knife. “You wanted to practice.”

My finger dances over the trigger, but I can’t bring myself to squeeze no matter how hard I try. Killing in the moment during a hunt is one thing, but taking someone’s life here, in a lit wine cellar, feels wrong.

Maybe it’s the gun. Maybe it’s Addison sitting there wrapped in a bloody bow. I can’t put my finger on whatever is off with this situation.

“Kill him, Laine. You know you want to.” His words slide across my skin like a tempting sin.

“No.” It comes out like a hoarse whisper. My palms are starting to sweat, so I adjust my grip and retreat another couple of paces until my shoes hit the lower step of the stairwell. Everything in me is screaming to kill him, but I can’t.

My vision clouds over as the hot tears gather behind my lids that I’ve held back for days. All the turmoil roiling inside me, all the frustration clawing at my guts, wants out.

I want out.

“No? But you’ve done it before. You can do it again. Get your revenge. Kill him with one deliberate incision, all the way across, just like you wanted. I’ll hold him down for you. End it, Laine.” His eyes practically glow, making my senses muddy and my body tingle. Every word out of his mouth makes sense. This is what I wanted.

To end it.

Slowly, I shake my head. “Not like this.”

Jaxon eyes darken as he crosses a shadow, but it’s fleeting. “Then I’ll end it for you.” I don’t have time to stop him. Calm as a cucumber, he strolls up to Addison and slashes his neck from ear to ear one deliberate cut. So deep that I almost imagine his head will fall off. It doesn’t.

The bow does, though.