She pushes back my hair. “Forever and a day, right?”
Our promise. One for a better future—one together. How could I not want to see that day, after hearing those sweet words off her lips? Words I thought I’d never hear.
I must be dead. But I’m not second guessing this any longer. Collins loves me—if this is death, don’t wake me up.
“I love you too. For forever and a day.”
She bends down, sweetly pressing her warm lips to my cold forehead. “You’re my home, Hayes. Without you, I’m a boat lost at sea, but with you? I’m home.”
EPILOGUE
COLLINS
TWO WEEKS LATER
Slipping through the shadows, I keep my feet light and my heels from dragging along the cracked cement. In the middle of the abandoned warehouse is a singular light.
Under the light is a gurney, with a body strapped down to the table, a metal tray beside it full of instruments. All with gleaming sharp points, they reflect the light and call to me.
At one point, seeing those instruments would turn my stomach, force me to hide in my room for days on end. I would recall those memories from my father, remember what he made me do.
Now, he doesn’t get that. Ferguson made me into this—and I’ve learned, with help, that it’s alright to embrace those tarnished bits. Especially when it helps someone I love.
Covered in my heavy wool coat, I avoid looking at the reaper beside the prone body. Hayes will be here soon and I need to prepare.
“Are you sure about this?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest. He’s in a a heavy jacket and boots, a solider of darkness looking down at the man before us.
“Of course,” I respond, placing my bag at the foot of the slab. “How did you find him so quickly?”
Killian smirks knowingly. “You have your secrets, and I have mine.”
Finley lays there, gagged, arms pinned in metal restraints, eyes wide in fear and rage. He’s naked, save for a cloth over his groin, and I shake out the cold in my hands.
The morality of this is moot. He took Hayes. He hurt someone I love. And now, I get to indulge in my darkest fantasies to avenge him.
It should scare me—how easy it is to fall back into this persona. How this darkness creeps up, holds me down and drowns me in depravities but I smile. It’s only scary if it’s not understood. I was crafted for this, made to endure it. It’s as much a part of me as my hair or my fingernails.
I can’t be terrified of who I am. I can be this and still be good at the same time.
Killian shoves his hands into his pockets, whistling. “Guess the O’Brien gene is strong.” Winking, he turns to leave. “Have fun.”
The metal door slams shut as the reaper departs, leaving me with my captive, and I exhale. He moves, urging the restraints to budge but they don’t.
I got pretty good at restraining patients under Pops’ eye. I had one nearly escape and had to spend all night dissecting him. It was gruesome and exhausting. I never made that mistake again.
“You know,” I say, removing my coat. Standing in the freezing, sparsely decorated room, my glittery bikini set shineslike dozens of burning stars. “You didn’t just sign your life over to Bruno for nothing—you came after the man I love.”
Picking up a scalpel, I don’t bother to put on gloves. There’s no point—I want to feel his blood on my hands. I want to see the stains, know what I’m doing is for a reason. Bask in the evil, taste the salt of his tears and enjoy it.
Finn makes a gurgling noise and I nod, as if I understand.
“I know. It’s just business to you. But,” I wave the blade into the air, “I did some digging into you, Finn. You didn’t just agree to go with Bruno for the Hell of it.”
Twisting, I make a quick incision into his chest, a perfect line that wells with blood. He screams into the gag. “You see, I found out you visited the Bruno home.Frequently.”
It was only a few clicks of a button. Finn, caught on camera, and the bodies left behind from his ruthlessness. He never just used the women—he killed them. Made them suffer.
Another incision on the other side, as if I’m carving up a cadaver. He shakes, yelling so loudly, he’s convulsing on my table. I have no sympathy for him.
