Ryat and Sin jump down into it to help them out. Charlotte and I both step closer and look down into the grave that’s supposed to be mine. It feels weird, being out here knowing that my husband buried this body thinking it was me.
The casket opens, and I can’t see much because they’re all down in the grave. The plan is to roll her onto her side, place a tarp under her, and then lift her out. I didn’t interject, but I was very confused when they were discussing it.
Me or not, she’s dead. Why dig her up? What do you do with a corpse?
We step back as they lift her and drop the tarp onto the ground next to the now open grave.
A cold chill runs up my spine when I look at her. It’s me. Dead, but me. Bleached-blond hair and all.
I feel like I’m staring death in the face. This is what I’d look like if I had died in that cathedral. Years of thinking I was insane, and this was the reason—I had a twin sister. An identical twin. Someone else in this world looked just like me.
“Angel?”
I look up when a hand touches my arm, and I meet my husband’s stare. He rubs my cheek with his tatted knuckles. I don’t know what to say. I can’t imagine what he felt, holding me. Having to tell me goodbye. She’s dressed in one of my dresses and a pair of my red bottoms. I can’t imagine the pain he went through having to pick out something to bury me in.
“Go inside, Eve,” he orders softly, bending down and kissing my forehead. “I’ll be there shortly.” With that, he turns, and Sin hands him a shovel.
Kashton moves to stand over her chest, and he places the tip of the shovel right at her neck. With both hands gripping the handle and his left boot on the step, he slams it down. The steel slices right through her neck, ripping it clean off her shoulders.
Charlotte gags before slapping a hand over her mouth, and I turn to her. “Come on.” I grab her other hand and pull her toward the house. I’m not sure what the fuck they’re doing, but she’s always nauseous. Seeing shit like that doesn’t help.
EIGHTY-FIVE
KASHTON
Ibend down and pick up the head to the body I thought was my wife.
Fucking bitch.
“The fuck?” The young cop holds a hand over his mouth as his wide eyes stare at the headless woman.
“Turns out my wife has an identical twin,” I inform them in case they haven’t caught on yet. “And it was her DNA you found on the dead girls.”
“What?” The detective glares at me. “How do you know that?” Before I answer, he continues. “This proves nothing. They could have been working together.”
“It wasn’t my wife. So stay the fuck away from her, or I’ll bury you in this fucking grave,” I bark, standing to my full height and stepping forward to pick him up and toss him into it to give him a visual. But Tyson grabs my arm pulling me back.
I knew it wouldn’t be this easy and they would think Eve still played a part. That’s why I had to call in backup. I hated having to do it, but this isn’t about me. It’s to protect my wife.
The detective huffs and runs a hand down his face.
“Dispose of the body,” I order, ignoring him and the cop. They’ll find out soon enough. Now that I know she’s not Eve, I want nothing left of it.
“And this?” Ryat picks up the head with a handful of the bitch’s hair.
“Sin.” I hold out my hand.
He removes a clear plastic bag from his back pocket, shaking it out and holding it open for me.
I take the head from Ryat and place it in the bag upright, making sure all the bleached strands are shoved inside of it. It’s crazy how identical she is to my wife. She was either watching Eve’s every move, or she was getting all her information from Evan. Either way, she mirrored my wife as closely as she could. The features are there, since they are identical. I never took the time to look for scars on her body that I know Eve has, but she even had the butterfly tattoo on her hip like Everett. All I knew was that it was my wife Ifound lying dead on the cathedral floor. I was too busy grieving to question whether it was possible that it couldn’t be her.
Sin spins the bag around before tying it off at the top.
The young cop is puking up his guts, and I roll my eyes. The bitch is dead. Not like she feels anything. And she doesn’t stink because she was embalmed. A little musty, but nothing too bad. I wish I could have saved her, and I would have dragged out her torture for what she did to my wife and what she was going to let Evan do to her.
“I know someone who might want this back,” I speak, and Ryat chuckles.
“I’d love to deliver it for you,” he offers.
