His eyes bulge with fear as I step forward with the torch. He wants to beg and plead for me not to use it, but his lips are sealed. Literally. The skin has melted his mouth shut from the earlier brush of flame.
“Holden, you have a swamp for their bodies?”
He chuckles at the ludicrousness of my question because, of course, he does.
“Is that a real question?”
Shrugging, I step forward with the torch in one hand and the other behind my back, where Nolan places a machete in my open palm. Craig thinks he’ll burn; instead, I bring the other hand forward, slicing clean through his neck as his head drops and rolls across the floor, stopping at the drain. Lifeless eyes stare wide as if he could have begged his way out of death.
Nothing would stop this from happening, no matter how hard they tried. No matter the false promises I made to them or myself. Lake asked me to kill them, and I would never disappoint her. One day, she might ask if I’ve done it, and I’ll tell her the truth, but she’ll never learn the details. She doesn’t need that on her conscience.
My mission in life had always been to be the monster in the dark, then Lake was born. I’m still the monster, but I’m hers now, and if she requests anything, I’ll make it happen. It’s the very least she deserves after everything she’s lived through. Her happiness will always be my own, and should she be as blood thirsty as me, even better.
“I have a woman waiting on me to pick her up, and I need to shower.”
“We’ll take care of this,” Nolan replies, rubbing his hands together. He enjoys dropping bodies in the swamp with Holden these days.
Turning around, I wash my hands in the sink that was installed here years ago and say, “Thanks for having my back.” It’s not often I dole out praise or thanks, so it seems I’ve thrown them off as I leave because they stay silent.
Before picking up Lake, I go home to shower and toss my bloody clothes in the wash. We have a date tonight, and she doesn’t need evidence of the carnage I took part in. Tonight is all about her and our love for each other.
CHAPTER 22
Lake
TWO MONTHS LATER.
“Are you ready for this?” My gaze meets Bea as she fidgets with the hem of her long shirt.
We’ve been more like best friends since the day we met. She was the first person, in years, that I was able to confide in, and we connected in a way I’d been struggling with for so long.
“Not really.” The plump tears in her eyes make mine swell up, too.
Three months ago, Bea had one of her memory episodes. Ariella became afraid because her mom couldn’t remember her, and it left a mark on my sweet friend, the sister of my heart.
Gripping her hands in mine, I press my head to hers and comfort her. “It was the first time in years and only lasted a few hours. Everyone, including Ari, knows how much you love her. We got this.”
Agreeing, Bea takes a few more deep breaths before we descend the stairs of my parents’ home. We’ve gathered the nuclear family here, minus Scotlyn and Jax, but they’re here on FaceTime, so we both could make an exciting, shared announcement.
Everyone is gathered in the living room, and Saint and Nolan are both on their feet, waiting for us. They’re just as clueless as everyone else.
“Well, what’s the big announcement?” my mom asks, her anticipation making her restless.
With Saint standing next to me, I stare up at him. His love shines in his eyes, making me believe I can do this with his support. Turning back to Bea, we hold hands and together shout, “We’re pregnant!”
Everyone is stunned, which quickly turns to excitement, and I’m spun around into Saint’s body. One hand goes to my hip, and the other grasps the back of my neck the way he likes. The way I love, too.
Brushing his lips across mine, I lift to my tippy toes for more. He takes the hint and control, giving me what I desire. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, playing with mine, licking where he can reach before pulling back and nibbling my lower lip as my heart races and my body heats up from his touch.
“A baby?” he murmurs, eyes dancing with elation yet slight concern.
“Yeah, our very own.”
We’ve spent weeks in therapy, helping both of us understand PPD and how to spot the signs. The ins and outs are rather complicated, but I’m confident we have the tools needed in case it happens. I’ll also continue to see Beth until the day I decide I no longer need to.
“You spoil me,” Saint growls into my mouth, breathing me in as his hand circles around to my waist.
“Details,” our moms say at the same time.
