I nod, unable to say anything but knowing she deserves revenge. That whoever hurt her should be here, stripped naked, lying on a cold slab all alone. Not her.
Devin places his arms under her lifeless body and lifts her from my grasp, and I watch him carry her to the table in the center of the room. She’s practically unrecognizable. I didn’t think someone so small could bleed so much. I’m not even sure how many times she was shot. I think Saint has counted three bullet wounds, but I can see bruises on her neck where my face smeared the blood while I held her to me in the car. Where I kissed her and told her over and over that I loved her. That I was sorry for not being the man she married. The husband she deserved.
All I can do is hope that it was fast. That she didn’t suffer. But I know the truth. I’ve seen it enough. The blood smear where she dragged herself to hide behind the altar. She suffered. She felt pain. I deserve to feel the same pain. Know the same fate.
I get up on my shaking legs and walk over to her. I push the bloody strands of hair off her gorgeous face and lean down to kiss her forehead. She’s so cold. I look around and see a gray blanket. Grabbing it, I drape it over her and speak softly. “I’ll be back, angel.” I need her to know I’m not leaving her. That this isn’t goodbye.
I turn to leave when Devin’s voice stops me.
“May I wash her?” I just stare at him, and his eyes soften. “I’d like to clean her up if you don’t mind.”
All I can do is nod. I’m incapable of speaking at the moment.
Then I exit the room with Haidyn. “Kash?—”
“Please, do-n’t.” My voice cracks.
He grabs my shoulders and spins me around. I think he’s going to hit me. Knock me on my ass for her death, but instead, he pulls me in for a hug.
My shoulders slump and fresh tears fill my eyes as I try to hold in a sob. We were raised to not show emotion. Especially over a woman. “I’m sorry,” I whisper through the lump in my throat.
“Don’t,” he growls, pulling back and gripping my upper arms. His hard eyes are filled with tears that he doesn’t want to cry. “Don’t do this to yourself.”
“It’s my fault she’s gone.” I shake uncontrollably, glancing at the door herbody is behind. “I…love her. I tried. I would have done anything—” I can’t finish the sentence because my throat closes.
He pulls me back into him, hugging me once more. “I know, Kash,” he whispers hoarsely. “She knows. She loves you too.”
My knees give out, but he holds me up.
I’m not sure how long we stand in the hallway, but we manage to get ourselves together. It’s hard to be intimidating when you’re a sobbing mess.
“We’ll get them,” he promises, and I nod.
I don’t have any doubt in my mind. I will tear this town apart to get the answers I want. But it won’t bring her back.
He slaps my back, and we turn, heading to the basement. We stay silent, and thoughts of my last conversation with my wife fill my mind.
“You’re my purpose.”
“I love you.”
It’s crippling to think I won’t crawl into bed next to her tonight or wake up with her in the morning. What life I had is over. She’ll be the one I place in the ground, but I’ll never live after this. I might as well bury myself with her. And I will. We will rot together. But I’ll make sure to take everyone that was involved with me first.
We enter the basement to see Sin and Ryat standing next to Saint while Hooke hangs out over in the far corner. Tyson is also here, and there’s a guy in the center, lying on the floor by the pits. He’s bleeding from what looks like his arm by the way his opposite hand grips it.
He looks up at me. His wide eyes search mine before they glance at my blood-stained clothes.
“Well, well, well,” I say, the dots instantly connecting, and I want to strangle him to death. It was right there in front of my face all this time. “My neighbor Christopher.”
Saint looks at Haidyn and whispers, “Neighbor?”
Haidyn shrugs at Saint, just as confused. They still don’t know about the house I bought to be close to Eve.
“It’s starting to make sense now.” I nod to myself. “How Evan knew to enter and leave her house from the back door. I didn’t have cameras back there. I bet you had the car ready and waiting for Evan after she stabbed him.”
He looks away, and I walk over to the counter and pick up the pack of Haidyn’s cigarettes. “String him up,” I order, my voice now as cold as this room. Then I grab the lighter next to the pack.
The crying session that Haidyn and I just had in the morgue was exactly what I needed—almost therapeutic. It reminded me of the cry that Elli had after her therapy session.
