Page 123 of The Murder Club

“You left the pearls at my house,” she prompted him to continue with his sick story.

“Ah, yes. I knew you would be smart enough to connect them to the old woman’s death.”

“Why kill Kevin?”

“I was done with him.” His tone indicated that he hadn’t given much thought before murdering a man who’d done nothing to him. “And he was another clue in our game.”

“A game I told you I didn’t want to play.”

His eyes blazed with anger. As if her refusal continued to be a source of annoyance.

“Don’t worry. It’s almost over.” Without warning, Thorpe spun around to stand next to the woman slumped in the chair. “First, however, I intend to enjoy some quality time with my mother.”

Bailey watched in silence as Thorpe grabbed Lorene by her hair and jerked her head up. Then, with a deliberate attempt to cause her pain, he ripped off the gag and tossed it aside.

“Are you ready to beg for my forgiveness?” Thorpe’s voice was harsh, the pretense of icy composure abruptly shattered.

This was the man beneath the mask. The cruel, twisted killer.

Lorene licked her dry lips. “Where’s Logan?”

The question had barely left her lips when Thorpe lifted his hand and slapped her face. The motion was almost casual, but his knuckles connected with her cheek with enough force to split open her skin.

“We’re not discussing my brother.” His fingers tightened their grip on her hair, giving her a shake. “I told you to beg.”

Bailey grimaced. She’d never liked Lorene Donaldson, but the sight of her being beaten by her own son was making her stomach cramp with horror.

And worse, they were blocking the doorway, making it impossible for her to make a run for it while Thorpe was distracted.

“Why should I beg?” Lorene remained defiant despite the blood running down her cheek and the furious man looming over her. Bailey might have admired her courage if she wasn’t such a bitch. “You’ll never forgive me anyway.”

Thorpe leaned down, his body rigid with barely suppressed emotion. “Then make me understand. Why did you leave?”

“You know why,” Lorene hissed. “Your father was a brutal monster who beat me on a daily basis. And his mother?” Lorene released a sharp, humorless laugh. “She was worse.”

Bailey shivered, recalling Dorinda’s claim that she’d overheard the unknown older woman being violent toward Lorene all those years ago.

“You’re right. They were both monsters. But who was the greater monster?” He leaned closer, the spit from his lips landing on Lorene’s bloody face. “The bastards who tormented me? Or the mother who abandoned me to their cruelty?”

“I had no choice.” Lorene refused to concede she’d betrayed her oldest child. “They would have killed me if I tried to take you.”

Thorpe’s face flushed an ugly red. “A real mother would have died to protect her son.”

“I had to think of Logan.”

A volatile silence filled the room as the words burst out of Lorene’s mouth. Bailey instinctively scooted back as she prepared for Thorpe to explode.

He didn’t. Instead, he released his hold on his mother’s hair and stepped back. As if he didn’t trust himself not to strangle her if he stayed too close.

“Of course you did.” His features twisted with a feral hatred. “Precious Logan.”

Lorene pressed herself back in the leather chair even as her expression remained stubbornly defiant.

“I couldn’t save you, but I could save him.”

Thorpe’s hands clenched, but his lips twisted into a smug smile. “No, no, you couldn’t.”

Lorene blinked, her courage fading as Thorpe regarded her with a triumphant expression.