Page 6 of The Monster I Loved

“Get inside,” I commanded.

His smile vanished. “Listen, Thaddeus . . .”

“Shut up and get inside!” I barked, shoving him roughly. He did as I demanded, backing through the open door. I shut it behind us and switched off the porch light. That would signal this house was out of candy; it was a common Tarrytown rule. I didn’t want trick-or-treaters disturbing us.

“Thad.”

“Shut the fuck up. Where’s Summer?”

Clive’s face paint dripped down his forehead. “I’m sorry about Gina. I wasn’t thinking. I panicked. I swear.” His voice cracked.

“I, I, I, all I hear about is you. Nothing about the pain you caused. You don’t give a shit about what you did, or you wouldn’t still be walking the fucking streets.”

“Thad, what are you doing?” Summer emerged from the basement.

I thought the gun in my hand made it pretty clear. “I’ve come to kill your father. Then you can set an example and show me how to forgive a killer.” My voice sounded calmer than I expected. My hands were no longer shaking. It was as if someone else were in charge of my body.

Summer jumped in front of her father, arms spread wide. “Thad, for my sake, please don’t do this. Forgive him. Dad is sorry. Please don’t.”

I blinked against her audacity.

How could she forgive him? The drunk that he was. He left my mother alone to die.

“Move out of the way.” My gaze never wavered from his face.

“No,” she’d snarled at me. Animalistic.

Clive and I locked eyes. “Summer, it’s okay, move,” he said.

Turning her head slightly, Summer looked back at him. “Dad?—”

Right there, I had the perfect angle. I pulled the trigger. The bullet hit Clive between the eyes. I’d always been a good shot.

Blood spattered onto Summer, marking her beautiful face. She let out a bone-chilling scream and lunged for her father, trying to prevent his body from falling to the ground. He fell, and she slumped down with him.

His eyes were open but unseeing.

“Dad, please. Please hold on,” Summer begged.

She turned to me, the man she’d been ready to spend the rest of her life with—the man who’d just killed her father. “Please call for help.”

I looked at her, confused. What good would that do when the man was clearly dead? Why would I fucking bother shooting the man only to then find him life-saving services?

“Please, Thad. Before it’s too late.”

In a dark voice, I finally spoke. “For my sake, forgive that.”

“Thad, please call?—”

“Summer, he’s dead. You lost a father, and I lost a mother. We’re equal now.”

Her pleas disappeared as she sobbed over her father’s body. “No, no, no.”

Just then, a jarring sound came from behind us. The doorbell rang.

“Trick-or-treat!”

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