Page 7

7

TREY

T he flashing blue-and-red lights cast eerie shadows on the surrounding houses as we watch as Chris struggles against the handcuffs that bind him, mumbling nonsense at the cops holding him down. The motherfucker deserves every bit of pain he gets, and more.

“Looks like you did our job for us,” Officer Lawrence says, his voice pulling me out of my thoughts. “Can you tell me one more time what happened tonight?”

“Look, Officer, I’ve already told you everything. Chris came after Maggie. I stepped in and kicked his ass. End of story.” I want to get this shit over with so I can focus on my girl and not the idiot who should be leaving here in a body bag.

I grit my teeth, struggling to keep my composure as I glance back at the sorry excuse for a man in the back of the police cruiser. My knuckles ache from the pounding I gave him, but it was worth the bruises and split skin.

My mind races with thoughts of vengeance, the rage inside me barely contained. I know I should let the justice system do its thing, but the thought of leaving Chris alive—even behind bars—has my blood boiling. I could finish the job, make him disappear for good. But would that be too much? Would that scare Maggie away?

“You two okay?” Officer Lawrence says, looking at us expectantly.

“Yeah, we’re fine,” I reply.

“Alright then.” He scribbles a few more details in his notepad. “We’ll be in touch with you both in the next few days.”

“Thank you, Officer,” Maggie says, her voice small but steady, still shaken by the night’s events.

I clench my fists at my sides, simmering anger coursing through me. If the cops had taken care of things, none of this would’ve happened. Then again, if they had, Maggie wouldn’t have needed me like she did tonight. And maybe that’s what I needed too—to be reminded of what matters most, something to light a fire inside me to tell her who I really am.

As we walk away from the scene, the silence between us feels heavy. Suffocating. I wonder what she’s thinking, if she realizes how much this night has changed everything between us. It’s time to come clean but I don’t know how she’ll react.

Will she still want anything to do with me once she knows the truth? Will she be angry? Disgusted? Terrified?

When we reach her doorstep, I’m praying that whatever happens next she’ll understand why I had to keep this secret for so long.

The moment we step inside Maggie’s house, she disappears into the bathroom to grab a first aid kit. I glance down at my bloodied-and-busted knuckles, feeling a mix of satisfaction and concern. There’s no other evidence of the one-sided beating I delivered tonight—Chris’s smaller, weaker stature was no match for my size and extensive training.

Maggie returns to the living room and tugs me over to the couch, where we sit down and she tends to my wounds. We’re both silent as she carefully cleans and bandages my hands. Until finally, she speaks. “What was that back there? You became someone I didn’t recognize. Someone I didn’t know.”

“I know,” I admit, my chest tightening with hesitation. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

This woman deserves the truth, as terrifying as it is to share it with her.

“Explain,” she demands. Firm but gentle.

Taking a deep breath, I prepare myself for the confession. This is it—no more secrets, no more lies. “Growing up, I always knew I was different,” I begin, my voice low and raw. “I used to listen to you and the other kids talk and laugh, and I realized I didn’t think like you guys did. As I got older, my thoughts got darker, more violent, and it scared me because I knew it wasn’t normal.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Maggie asks, pain flashing in her eyes.

“Because I didn’t know how. I didn’t know what to say.” I look away, unable to meet her gaze as I continue. “Things got worse after I moved away. I felt this constant anger inside me that I couldn’t explain or understand. I told my parents about it, but they just brushed it off as teenage hormones. I knew it was more than that, though.”

Maggie watches me intently, her gaze never leaving mine as she urges me to keep going. “So what did you do?”

“I tried to control it, to channel it into something productive,” I explain. “But it never went away. It was always there, lurking beneath the surface, waiting for a chance to break free.”

Maggie’s eyes are filled with a mixture of fear, sadness, and understanding as she processes my words. She’s always been able to see through my bullshit.

“Turns out, a family friend recognized what was going on with me,” I continue, swallowing hard as I recall the memories. “He could see that I lacked empathy and remorse. That I could disassociate and compartmentalize easily.”

She lets out a nervous laugh and shakes her head. “You make it sound like you’re a serial killer or something.” Her laughter dies when she sees my stoic expression.

“I am.”

That simple confession makes the color drain from her pretty face. She backs herself into the corner of the couch. The sight of her fear cuts deep, but she needs to understand.

“I don’t kill random people, Mouse. And never women or children, no matter what they’ve done. I work by contract only. So when my parents told you I was an independent contractor, that was true, in a way.”

“Your parents... Do they know?”

“No. It’s best no one knows,” I admit.

“Then why are you telling me?” She wraps her arms around herself, staring at me with eyes that beg me to tell her this is all a joke, that none of this is real. Part of me wishes I could.

“Because I love you. And you deserve the truth if there’s any chance we can be together.”

Maggie holds my gaze, searching for something within me that I hope like hell she finds. Something that deems me worthy enough to be with her. The silence threatens to suffocate me, but I force myself to remain still and wait for her to speak.

“Is this why you pushed me away when you came back to Cedar Point?” she finally asks, her tone a mixture of hurt and anger. “You realized you wanted to kill people for a living?”

I shake my head, struggling to find the right words. “I didn’t know that at sixteen, Maggie. I just knew I wasn’t good enough to be around you anymore. I did my best to mask my true personality from everyone, pretending to be the smartass, popular jock to keep people from asking questions and getting suspicious.”

Her expression softens a fraction, but the hurt in her eyes remains. “I wish you would have told me sooner. Would’ve saved me a lot of heartache. But I also regret not being there for you when you needed me. I should’ve tried harder.”

I scoff at her. “How could you have tried harder when I was such a dick to you?” My chest tightens at the memory of the pain I caused.

“Because I knew something wasn’t right. You weren’t acting like the boy I knew.”

“So you knew I’d be a murderer when we were in second grade?” I lift a single eyebrow at her.

“No,” Maggie says firmly, pinning me with her beautiful eyes. “That’s your job, Trey, not who you are. You eliminate bad people from the world, but that’s not your identity.”

Her words hit me hard, like a punch to the gut. A revelation I hadn’t considered. She’s right—I’m not defined by the blood on my hands. I may be a killer, but that’s not the extent of who I am. And with Maggie, I want to be more than just my profession; I want to be the man she needs me to be.

“Your words,” I murmur, my voice thick with emotion, “Are exactly why I love you, Mouse.”

She blinks, her expression softening for a moment before she narrows her eyes. “That doesn’t mean we’ll be together…”

I lean forward, the intensity of my feelings for her fueling my resolve. “I’m not giving you a choice.”

In this moment, I know without a doubt that I would do anything to make her mine. I won’t let my past or my job dictate our future. I’m still an asshole who hates most people and can’t stand to be around them. But for Maggie, I’ll be the man she deserves—the one who protects her, cherishes her, and loves her unconditionally.