With the chaos of the holidays over and our depraved little corner of Pennsylvania currently getting battered by a typical February winter, Kerri has been on a mission to make this house her home.
And she’s everywhere.
In the replica medieval tapestries hung on the walls. And the neat piles of romance novels and true crimes books scattered every-fucking-where that need shelves I’ve yet to build. In the bathroom, where her girlie shit sits next to mine. Whenever I shower, I smell her pretty soap and shampoo and leave the bathroom needing to fuck her. She put her research skills to good use and nosedived into D&D, having joined me on an online campaign where she created a fallen aasimar paladin with a killer background story.
Kerri is finally (fuckingfinally) doing what’ll make her happy. She just accepted a position at the Museum of Medieval Antiquities in Scranton.
I’m damn proud of her.
Until then, she’s working at the library three blocks away on Main Street. Jamie took over after Olivia Decker retired. Kerri stepped in to lend a hand to help Jamie sort shit out and make the place her own.
“What the hell is this?” I point to the paper Kerri slapped on the table.
When I look at Discord, he’s gone white. And I mean pale. Like he’s seeing a walking corpse. He’s even stopped chewing. His bite of French toast sits in his mouth until he finally swallows—hard—his brown eyes almost possessed as he stares at the grainy photo.
Given Discord’s reaction, I give the paper closer inspection, and every drop of blood in my body runs cold. It’s like shards of ice that slice me raw as they skid through my veins.
“Gentlemen.” Kerri’s voice sounds a million miles away as voices from my past echo in my ears. “Meet Joseph Bird.”
The fuck.
The familiar face mocks me, and I swear to God, it takes all of my control not to flip this table. I grab the paper. Crumple it in my fist. Hurl it across the room. I’ve envisioned this man too many times to count. So many times, his ugly fucking face is etched too deep in my gray matter to dig out. But when I glance at Discord, I force myself to take a breath. I drop my head in my hands and close my eyes. Wait a beat until I can hold back the rising tide of fury because since the night I stabbed Emmett Johnson in the leg, all I’ve wanted to do is finish what I started.
Not for me.
For my little brother, who suffered more than any person should have to endure.
Finally calm enough to speak, I reopen my eyes and lift my head. “This…creature…isn’t Joseph-fucking-Bird, Kerri,” I grind out between gritted teeth.
Kerri lays another sheet of paper on the table. A legal application or some such shit. “Yes, it is, officially.Unofficially, this is Emmett Johnson.” She drops on the chair as if the weight of this revelation is too heavy a burden. When she taps the document, her pale pink fingernail clicks against the rustic mahogany table. “You couldn’t find him because Emmett legally changed his name fourteen years ago. It’s easy to destroy a paper trail if you know the right people. Well, he somehow knew the right people because I had to dig deep to find these fossils.”
“How?” The question falls from Discord’s lips in a barely audible rasp.
Kerri shrugs one shoulder. “The Unholy aren’t the only ones with resources.” I hear the crinkle of paper and look up to see she’s holding another bombshell in her hands. “Remember when I told you my main job with my father involved research? Well, I was good at it. And I made a few friends who helped me.” Then her cheeks color with a pretty flush. “And we also got lucky. The county clerk who oversaw Emmett’s petition left a footprint. I found her old files in an archived database. It’s something that unless you knew what to look for and where to search, you wouldn’t find it. Not even the Unholy.”
“Where is he?” Because that’s all the information I need.
Kerri hands me the final sheet of paper.
I read the document before handing it to Discord.
Fuck.
Discord scans it, then slams it on the table. He springs up from the chair so fast he nearly topples it over. “No,” is all he says.
He curls his hands into fists, his chest heaving with every angry breath he takes. Kerri steps toward him but stops. Yeah, I’d be scared if I were her, too, not that I’d let anything happen to her. Nor would Discord hurt her. But I know that look on his face, and right now, he’s all the way insane. He’s the terrified little boy who suffered years of abuse. A boy who grew into a teenager who pushed his body to the breaking point to become a man strong enough to protect himself against anyone who tried to hurt him. A man whose only goal is to extract retribution from the monster who violated him…
…only to find out karma got to him before he could.
“It’s true, Discord.” Her tone is soothing. “Emmett died of a heroin overdose seven years ago. He’s buried in a potter’s field over in Rutledge.”
Discord grabs the death certificate. He reads it again. Slams the paper on the table. Takes a deep breath. “That’s it? We don’t get to kill him? After everything he did to us. Tome. He gets to just…to just fucking die like that?”
I stand and walk to my brother, remembering every time I scooped up his bloody, little body off the floor. Each time I cleaned him up and tucked him in bed. Every story I read to him, and every time I had to search for him when he ran away because of the monster living in our home.
We were young, and we were helpless.
That was a long fucking time ago.
