Page 138 of One Killer Night

She frowns like she’s going to say something, so I lift my hand to stop her. “And before you ask me how I found you, that was also Chase. He recognized the fucking logo on the front of the shirt you had on.” I let out an exhale. “He recognized it from a picture of my mother that was left stabbed to our front door after the apartment had been destroyed ...”

Goldie cuts in, narrowing her eyes at me. “Your mother? Why would she have a Camp Weonoke shirt on?”

I lock eyes with her. “Because she was here around thirty years ago.”

Goldie shakes her head and looks down. I can see her thoughts playing out on her face, and they seem to be contradicting each other because she looks confused. Like she doesn’t know what to believe. Until her eyes lift and lock to mine.

“Five people were killed ... in the massacre here.”

My head draws back slightly, confused how she knows. “My mom was the only survivor.”

Goldie’s chest moves up and down faster. “Was it the groundskeeper? Someone from Darkwater Bay?”

I run my hand through my hair as I stand up again, but take a step away from her so she knows she’s safe.

Our eyes are still connected, never leaving.

“How do you know that?” I don’t give her time to answer because I shouldn’t be asking anything of her. She deserves the truth.

I hold up my hand to stop her. “I’m sorry I lied to you. I can pretend it was for your own good, but lying is about being a coward. I was too afraid to lose you, to trust that you would stay. The groundskeeper was named William Bromley. He’s my father. And he’s alive.”

Even in the dim room, I can see her eyes shining with the intrusion of her tears.

“I never knew myself as Davis. That version of me lived behind so many locks. So when I invented Noah, it didn’t feel like a lie. I just wanted to start again. To become who I wanted to be on my terms without the baggage of my past.”

I run a hand through my hair, hating how even though she’s placed the can she was holding on a counter next to her, she’s still protecting herself by crossing her arms.

“Goldie ...” My eyes don’t leave hers because I need her to really look at me. “I grew up watching my mother always looking over her shoulder. My boogeyman was my dad. I thought I was protecting us, and I ruined us instead. And I put you in danger. You should never forgive me, but please let me get you out of here. It’s not safe. He’s here.”

Silence stretches out between us as her eyes search mine and words keep tumbling from my lips. “He’ll kill you just because I love you. And Goldie, I do love you. With every goddamn fiber of my being. Even when I lied. When I hid. I don’t exist without you. But that’s okay because I can let Noah die if I know you’ll be able to walk away and live the life you deserve.” My eyes drop to the floor before I clear my throat, hoping my voice doesn’t break. “You deserve it all. You deserve the fucking world ...”

I take a step toward her on instinct, because she’s my comfort and I feel like I’ll never recover from this. From letting her go.

But her brows draw together, and her eyes go to my feet. She’s still scared of me.

“Please trust me.” The shakiness of my voice makes me clear it again. “I’m not my father. I would never hurt you.”

The lump in my throat grows with the realization that she may not believe that. I’ve made the girl I would die for unable to see me anymore. She was always the only one. That’s my real penance for these crimes.

Her arms fall to her side, my phone still in her hand, before she shakes her head and rushes toward me.

“I know you wouldn’t.” She breathes, “Noah, I’ll always know that.”

Before I can speak, her arms are around my neck and mine are wrapped around her waist as I lift her off the ground. It almost buckles me to my knees. My hands spread across her back, holding her tightly and inhaling her scent.

She shifts her head, bringing her lips to mine. We’re hungry and joyous, savoring the seconds because the distance has felt like a lifetime.

“I love you,” I whisper between our kisses. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She pulls away, her palms pressed to my cheeks. “You can make it up to me later with your life story ... Let’s get Evie and get out of here because you’re right—he’s here. And I think he has help.”

Holy fuck.

A heavy breath leaves my body as I place her back on the ground. She turns her back to me as she heads toward the door she snuck in before looking back and holding out her hand. “Are you coming?”

I’m right behind her. Our fingers weave together as we head toward the party, the only thought in my mind cocked and loaded.

Tonight, I’m going to kill my father.