“Gustav. No. He’s a boss.”
But I’m already smiling. The idea lights fire through my chest. My blood feels effervescent. I stride past her. Past the bodies—
The bodies are gone.
I blink.
No. I was mistaken. I didn’t kill anyone. Carry on.
In the hallway, sunlight slashes through a stained-glass window, casting red across the floor.
“Time to take a trip,” I say, and my voice feels lighter than it did.
I will kill far from home.
Peighton’s father fits perfectly. That will teach her not to break rules until it’s time for us to part ways.
I flinch.
Walk on.
I step outside with a smile and a skip in my step.
Because nothing quiets the voices like blood. And nothing distracts me from my wife like the thought of destroying the things she holds dear. Because I can’t feel things for her. I shouldn’t fuck her again. She’s a witch, tricking me with her beauty. That body. Her soft whimpers. The sinister words she spoke to make me feel whole.
She doesn’t fucking love me.
God… I want to taste her neck again. Drag my cheek against her soft skin. Feel her nipples graze my chest. Hear her moan my name. Read her damn texts.
I take out my phone.
Delete them.
My face twitches.
Block her.
My body shudders hard upon severing my direct connection to her.
I drop into the backseat of the car, instructing the driver to the airport. Beside me rests the scarf she knitted. I reach over and clutch it in my fist. I hate that she gave this to me, yet I hold it with a death-grip, refusing to put it back down.
As the forest whisks by, I rock slightly, staring at the words.
“Contact blocked,” I murmur.
I repeat it, trying to be okay. I thumb the scarf.
I’m not okay.
Chapter 33
Peighton
The car’s trunk smells like metal and old carpet, and honestly, I should be panicking. I should be clawing at the lid, fighting the ropes around my wrists, doing anything other than staring into the dark and thinking about my unhinged husband who apparently decided to block me.
Kidnapping training is supposed to sharpen my instincts, but mine feel blunted by worry. By him.
The car stops. The trunk unlatches. Cold air rushes in.
