And I’lldeserveto lose her.
“When, Duchess?”
“Friday, but my mother would like you here earlier. Tomorrow, if possible, to meet you.”
Fuuuck.
I slap the wall and almost crush the phone. “Only for you, Kerri. You know that, right?” I don’t give her a chance to answer the rhetorical question. “Why me, Duchess?”
This one, though, I damn well expect an explanation.
“Pardon?”
“You fucking heard me.”
There’s a long-ass pause before she answers. “Because losing my father will be the hardest moment of my life, and every moment that brings me closer to it makes me realize I can’t get through it alone. Why you? You know why, Havoc, and that’s why you’ll come.”
Her words are a fist squeezing my heart. I take a second to find my voice, and when I do, I say between gritted teeth, “Text me your address.”
“Thank you, Havoc.”
“Goddamn you, Duchess,” I snap because I’m covered in blood about to kill a man, and she’s clean and perfect and everything that is good. I don’t want her to need me. I don’t want to need her. Christ, I’m so fucked. “I gotta go.”
“Havoc?”
“What else do you want from me, Kerri?”
“You’re not a monster.”
“Yeah, I am.” I hang up and drop the cell phone in my pocket.
When I rejoin Jester, he’s looking all sorts of concerned. “Everything good?”
“They’re taking Harold off life support.”
Jester’s entire body slumps. “Aw, man, that sucks. Is Kerri okay?”
“No,” I heave out and rake my fingers through my hair to push the dark blonde strands away from my face. “I’m going to Brighton.”
“You?” Jester chokes out. “You’re going to Brighton? When?”
I march over to Sundown, who is slumped in the chair. He’s barely breathing. “Tomorrow.”
“Good Lord, you have to bring your manners and everything.”
I roll my eyes and step behind Sundown. “I’m always polite, dickwad.” Then to Sundown, “I was going to drag this out all fucking night, but it seems I got somewhere better to be.”
It’s difficult to snap a neck. You need to put your back in it, and when I wrap my arms around Sundown’s head, I lock in tight. Not that he can put up a fight. It’s the reason I don’t slit his throat or choose a messier way to end the bastard. We already broke his body to hell. All he can do is succumb to death as I put all my strength into the jerk of my arms. His neck and head twist, and after the snap of his cervical spine, I open my arms.
Sundown flops forward, dead.
I feel zero satisfaction.
He’s one more person I’ve murdered.
Another dead body.
“…and he’s done,” Jester declares. “Now, let’s get the lye because I’m hungry and in the mood for barbecue.”
