Irvin was innocent.
I sentenced him to death.
Cold sweat drenches my skin. My hands tremble.
I want Irvin. IneedIrvin.
“You’re coming with me.”
“No.”
“You will.”
He removes his gun. Aims it at my head.
I freeze. Raise my hands.
He drags me toward the stairs. I knock the gun loose, punch his nose, and sprint. I make it halfway to the gate before he grabs my hair, drags me back, and throws me into the trunk.
He zip-ties my arms, then duct-tapes my mouth, and slams the trunk shut.
I blink in complete darkness.
I scream. Sweat pours. My stomach drops. Warm urine spreads between my legs.
The trunk opens.
Rain bangs on my body. I glance at the black sky, then at the cemetery.
Why are we at Irvin’s mother’s gravesite?
He drags me to a fresh coffin beside hers.
He rips the tape from my mouth and presses the gun to my head.
“You choose—me or your soon-to-be-dead husband.”
“Please. Let me go,” I plead.
He strikes my head. I fall.
“You married someone else. After I killed your parents and spared you. This is how you repay me? You belong to me,” he grits out.
Pain explodes on my skull. I scream.
I spit in his face.
“I choose Irvin.”
His expression hardens.
“Then you’ll be buried next to his mother.”
He steps closer.
I knee him in the stomach and run.
Gunshots crack in the air. Rain slams down on the earth. I dive behind trees, trip, scramble—
