Page 78 of Under Your Scars

“Is this the bad thing?” I whisper.

He shakes his head and inhales a harsh breath. “You said you hated me.”

I shake my head in confusion. “What? No, Christian—” I take his face in my hands. “I don’t hate you.”

He cradles my cheeks with the same tenderness I’m holding his. With his lips ghosting over mine, he whispers, “The day we met…I was going to kill myself.”

My throat tightens and tears prick in my eyes. “What?”

He holds me close to him, his trembling breaths telling me he’s terrified. Wet droplets of water drip from his hair and mix with his tears.

“I had the gun to my head. I had my finger on the trigger, and I was about to pull it. The bad thing, Elena…is that the only reason I stopped was because I heard you screaming for help.” His voice cracks as a violent sob wrecks through him. “That’s why I call you angel. Because you saved my life.”

The horror stings up my spine like I’ve just been cracked with a fiery whip. My heart is beating so hard I think it might jump straight out of my ribcage.

“You’re the Silencer.”

My voice is so soft, like the floor might cave in from the weight of the truth. He doesn’t answer me, but his silence is answer enough. My vision goes black around the edges and I’m on the verge of passing out, but Irefuseto let this man do any more damage to me or this city.

So I shove him away from me, smack him hard across his wet cheek and I run.

I run as fast as I can out of his room and through the mansion to the garage, ignoring the stares of the staff as I loudly sob. I reach the garage and pull a set of keys off the wall.

I don’t even know what car I chose or remember leaving the estate.

The only thing I’m certain of is that I’m driving straight towards the police station and never looking back.

CHAPTER 21

THE ANGEL

I make it about halfway to the city before I have a complete mental breakdown and have to pull over. I cry into the steering wheel so hard that I get sick and have to open the door of the car to vomit on the side of the street.

I’m hyperventilating and I don’t think I’ve ever felt so betrayed and used and horrified in my life.

Christian was the man I could see myself spending the rest of my life with. He was the man I wanted to marry and have babies and adopt Caroline with.

This whole time, he’s been a fucking psychopath, and I was so blinded by the jewels and the charm and the love that I didn’t see what was right in front of me.

My head is throbbing. I’m dizzy, exhausted, and all I want to do is hug my dad and tell him how right he was about this city.

Police first. I’ll tell them everything I know regardless of if they believe me or not. Then I’ll go home to Texas so I can be far, far away from this city and from Christian.

I’m a few blocks away from the police station sitting at a stoplight when the phone calls start. Christian’s name pops up on my screen over and over and over again. I ignore it every time. I don’t know why he thinks I would listen to anything he says right now.

The light turns green, and I cruise into the intersection. From the corner of my eye, I see two bright lights approaching me lightning fast, and I think I watch my life flash before my eyes before those lights slam into the side of my car so hard that I go skidding across the road, rolling over three times before coming to a stop upside down on the other side of the intersection.

For a while, all I can see is white, and there’s a loud ringing in my ears. Soft plumes of smoke and dust from the airbags flutter around me. My hands tremble as I brace myself against the roof of the car and unbuckle my seatbelt, landing with a thud on broken glass.

One time, when I was in high school, my brother and I went four-wheeling on our parents’ land. Travis was driving and he lost control of the ATV and we both went flying off. I fractured one of my ribs. It was the first time I had ever broken a bone, and it was one of the worst physical pains I’ve ever experienced, second only to appendicitis. The inability to breathe without pain was awful, and I had only fractured it—didn’t even break it all the way. I was able to stand up and walk back to my parents’ house, and we calmly drove to the urgent care.

I’m feeling that pain again, in my ribs, but it’s at least five times worse. I crawl out of the mangled car on my stomach. I try to keep air in my lungs, but it feels impossible. My body is shaking. I’ve never been in a car accident before. Not a bad one. A tiny fender bender when I first got my license, but that’s it. I’ve never had to drag myself out of an upside-down vehicle.

The car that hit me is still upright, the bright headlights shining down on me. Two people emerge from the SUV.

I hold up my hand to try and shield my eyes from the light. It’s covered in blood from the glass digging into my skin.

This is really just my luck, isn’t it? To get in a car accident on my way to the police station to tell them their resident billionaire is also the serial killer that’s been terrorizing the city for the past two years.