Page 37 of Splintered Memories (Ember Hollow Romance #2)

Emersyn

N o. No . That couldn’t be true.

I stared at my brother, shaking my head. The Shadow Stalker? There was no way Amos could be a…a serial killer.

He was my uncle, our uncle. He had taken care of us when we were kids and no one else would. He was…my friend.

“That can’t be right,” I squeaked.

I scanned my brother’s face. He looked so sick, like he’d been locked up for weeks. Maybe he had been. Maybe he was just confused.

Even as I tried to rationalize the situation, I couldn’t make sense of it. I couldn’t make sense of how both of us had gotten here.

Tears glistened in Jake’s eyes. “I’m so sorry, Emy.” He repeated that apology, his voice broken and horse. “I’m so sorry I was such a horrible brother to you.”

I stiffened. “Who said you are a horrible brother?”

Jake shook his head. “I know that I was, and you deserved better from me. I was trying—I was trying so hard to be better for you.”

I didn’t like the way he was speaking. He was talking like this was the last time he’d get the chance to say these things.

“Jake.” I said his name sharply. “Stop that. You’re not a horrible brother. We all have gone through so much crap, and all that matters is that you’re trying to be better. You will continue to be better, Jake.”

A tear slipped from his lashes, leaving a track mark in the dirt on his face. “I love you.”

His broken tone made my chest seize with terror. “I love you too,” I said quickly. “But I need you to stop this. I need you to tell me everything that you know—”

The sound of a lock clicking cut me off. My eyes snapped to a heavy, metal door. It seemed to be the only way out or in. No windows were in this room.

Jake made a gasping, choking noise, and he curled into a tighter ball right as the door was pulled open. My mouth gaped at how thick it really was. It looked like the door of a bank vault. Whoever had made this room had no intention of anyone escaping.

I wasn’t sure what I expected to walk inside. Something monstrous, I supposed. Something ugly enough to leave my brother in the condition he was in.

But monsters were really just people. They were like everybody else, and had families and people who loved them. They blended in so that you didn’t even know they were predators.

My Uncle Amos smiled at me as he hauled that thick door closed behind him. He pressed his thumb against a screen under the handle and the locks engaged, shutting himself inside with us.

When he turned back to me, his eyes glinted in a way that sent nausea through me .

“Ah, you’re finally awake, Emy-Su.”

Hearing my childhood nickname come from his mouth had me swallowing back vomit. I hardened my stare on him, still so confused, but choosing to embrace the anger burning through me.

“Don’t call me that,” I spat at him.

He chuckled, a sound that sent chills over my skin. How had a man, who once felt safe to me, turned into this?

“You were always so feisty.” He crouched in front of me.

I flinched back, drawing back as far into the wall as possible.

“That’s part of why I always liked you.” He reached for me.

I pulled away in vain, my chains making me helpless to stop him as he touched a tendril of my hair.

“I always resented that you dyed your hair, though. You were so pretty as a brunette.”

Terror entwined my insides, constricting until I couldn’t breathe and numbness spread throughout my limbs.

I had started dying my hair after my sister died. I had hated my dull, brown hair and envied my sister’s fiery red locks. I never wanted to go exactly to her shade of red, but I got as close as I was comfortable with.

It wasn’t the fact that he didn’t like the color of my hair that had the fear choking me. It was the fact that the Shadow Stalker had a preference for brunettes. Every victim was one.

Amos’s eyes widened with entertained glee. He chuckled again, and I wanted to slide right out of my skin.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said, flashing his straight white teeth. “I don’t see you as one of them. I’m not going to…violate you, if that’s what you’re worried ab out.”

I retched at that, my stomach clenching and revolting as I dry heaved to the side. When I was done, I forced myself to look back at him.

“Why did you take me, then?” My voice trembled, like my body.

Amos cocked his head to the side. “The same reason I took your brother.” His eyes narrowed. “To get back at your father. Although, I had hoped taking your brother first would distract you from your pesky videos.” He shook his head. “At least Tristan felt the pain of his adsense.”

I jerked my head back. “What does my father have to do with this?”

Amos’s face hardened. His eyes were adamant as he sneered at me. “I have hated your father for almost my entire life.”

I frowned at him, eyebrows drawing together. Amos and my father weren’t friends, but I never thought that they hated each other. They worked together for the family business.

I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”

Amos’s lip curled with disgust. “Of course you don’t. You don’t understand anything.” He sighed, as if annoyed with me. “That’s the thing about people. They often only see what they want to. That’s why it’s so easy to deceive. All you have to do is show them what they want to see.”

I shuddered. “Is that what happened with us?” I hissed. “You knew we wanted a loving parent and so you gave it to us?” I injected rage into my words, but they cut me deep. Tears pricked in my eyes.

Amos shrugged. “I was willing to play the long game. Your mother was an…interesting woman. Not very motherly, though. My brother wasn’t much of the affection type, either, and it was simple to manipulate you.

All I had to do was give you everything you craved: love and care.

It was pathetic how easy it was to take you away from him…

to have you love me more than him, your own father. ”

I bristled. “Why would you care about taking this away from him? What the hell did he ever do to you?”

He tensed. “What did he do?” His face pinched in disgust. “What hasn’t the prestigious Tristan Hawthorn done?

” My father’s name sounded like a curse on his lips.

“I’m sure you know our story. My mother had me as a bastard before she met your grandfather.

She fell head over heels in love with the man.

It was as if she could smell the potential on him.

He was nothing but a mildly successful farmer at the time, but he was ambitious.

By the time they had Tristan, he was already starting his business.

He built the Hawthorn name with Tristan and me at his side. ”

“My grandfather raised you like you were his own son,” I said, repeating the words that had been told to me growing up.

Amos let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “As his own? Is that why he refused to give me the Hawthorn name?” He shook his head. “That man never saw me as his son. No, all the glory was saved for Tristan. And what did he do to deserve that? He was born .”

I grimaced at the bitterness rolling off him. “You turned yourself into a monster because you were jealous? What the hell is wrong with you?” I wasn’t sure I really wanted the answer to that question.

A vein pulsed in Amos’s forehead. He leaned closer, and I forced myself not to flinch away this time.

“As for me, I was born a monster,” he whispered.

“But I could control myself when I wanted to. I’ve always had…

urges. It was apparent pretty quickly that I wasn’t normal, but I didn’t care.

I only cared about not going to prison for the rest of my life.

But even that fear waned eventually.” A grin flickered on his mouth.

“If I couldn’t have the Hawthorn name, I might as well make one of my own.

Infamy comes in many forms, and Shadow Stalker is mine. ”

I clenched my teeth, my breaths ragged. “You killed all those women for fame?” I didn’t know why it surprised me. Nothing about him should surprise me anymore.

He scoffed. “No. I killed them because I like it. The fame is just…a perk. It’s so strange how people become obsessed with monsters, isn’t it?”

I shook my head, overwhelmed with horror. “Why are you doing this to us?” I whispered. “If you wanted us dead, why wait until now?”

Amos drew back. “Because you were becoming a problem.” He glared at me.

“I thought your little podcast was cute at first, but you were unrelenting. I had planned to estrange you from your father, but killing you suits me best right now. Those potentially problematic videos will stop, and I already managed to get rid of all that paperwork you had on me.”

I blanched. “You did set the fire.”

He rolled his eyes. “Of course I did. You think that idiot Cohen could’ve done that without getting caught?

No, definitely not. All I had to do was surveil the house and study the cameras.

Jake here knew the code to the security system, and he willingly gave it to me when I asked.

” He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “You two can be too trusting sometimes.”

I was going to throw up. I squeezed my eyes shut and turned my head away.

“Leave her alone.” The rasping voice of my brother met my ears.

My eyes snapped open, and I focused on him. He sat up on the mattress, his eyes narrowed on Amos. I had never seen pure hate like that in his eyes before .

Amos sighed. “Careful, Jake,” he warned without looking in his direction. “You don’t want to see your sister hurt, do you?”

Jake’s nostrils flared. “Don’t touch her, you piece of garbage!”

Amos’s mouth widened in a chilling, manic grin. His eyes never left me as he addressed my brother.

“Oh, Jake,” he said. “I will do with her whatever the hell I want to.”

Then, he moved. He was so fast I didn’t see where he pulled the knife from before he had held it against my throat.

Jake froze, eyes widening in horror.

My heart jolted. The blade was surprisingly warm against my skin. That smile on Amos’s face twisted. I couldn’t believe I had once loved the man holding a knife to my throat.

“So, Emy-Su,” he whispered against my skin. “Do you have any last words for your brother?”