They’ll look for a few days, then stop, Jensen becoming one of the thousands of others categorized as missing every year. His case will be filed underunfortunate events, and everyone will move on.
I should’ve killed him on the spot. Now I’ve got to make another trip to Boston. Andres is already waiting, his men poised to not only dispose of the corpse, but also detail my car.
Once Jensen’s back in the comfort of the trunk, I slam it closed and dismantle the restraint chair as much as the design allows, shoving the parts onto the back seat.
Mercy is hard fucking work...
Lesson learned.
Once the scene’s clear and I’m certain the heavy rain will conceal my tire tracks, I set off toward Boston, eager to get back before sunset.
39
Carter
Alex. Alex. Alex.
Lord, that fucker’s lucky he’s no longer with us.
The more Hailey remembers about him, the more questions she poses in the margins, the more potent my hatred grows.
It’s good that Broadway’s already dug him up for parts, or I’d join him to put a bullet in the dead man’s skull.
Hailey’s added a few flashbacks while I was in Chicago. Nothing that’d lead me to the evidence, unfortunately, but enough to start painting a picture of their relationship.
A fucked-up picture that doesn’t fit anything I’ve imagined since Rhett told me they were an item. Alex swooped in while Hailey was grieving her mother and manipulated her vulnerable mind.
He made her dependent on him.
A few gifts, cheap compliments, minimum conversation, and Hailey danced to his tune like a circus monkey.
She was hungry for affection. Hungry for attention. A shred of human contact. Vaughn dragged her away from the life she knew in Florida, then promptly escaped into his work, leaving his daughter alone in a new reality.
That’s when Alex sensed an opportunity.
It’s still unclearwhyhe swooped in, whether he found her attractive, enjoyed breaking and putting her back together the way he wanted, or if he had an agenda. One thingisclear, though: he exploited her weaknesses while she was at her weakest.
That’s a sin he’d be skinned alive for had he survived Babyface.
Though I imagine if Hailey were honest in her diary, I’d find more reasons to inflict the most heinous death on the fucker. She scribbles new bits in every day, but some memories seem incomplete. Specifically the most recently added ones.
I think she redacts certain parts, more focused on the surroundings and her feelings than the actual events.
The roar of my Pontiac’s engine fills the air while Hailey and I fly down narrow country roads. She’s hungry and the cafeteria’s closed for the night, so we’re taking a road trip.
I’ve learned over the past week that the easiest way to ensure she eats three meals is sex three times a day. Making her orgasm until she begs for a break and a sandwich is my new mission.
She’s lost too much weight while I’ve known her.
The windows are down, the warm fall wind ruffling Hailey’s hair. Blonde locks dance around her face as she rests against the seat, one arm out the window, her fingers dancing on the wind.
I keep stealing glances at her, drawn to her blissful features, pursed lips, and long eyelashes. All those creams and serums she massages into her scars every evening have worked miracles on her cheeks. It’s been a week, but the scratches have almost healed, just a few deeper ones still fading.
She’s a feast for the senses. The perfect blend of feminine and fierce. Delicate and strong. Cautious and fucking reckless. Her skin’s soft, nose a cute little button, cheeks round and mostly blushing faint pink, but those deep steel-blue eyes give off a different vibe. So do her scars. She’s not as dainty as she looks. There’s a fire in this girl, one that has blinding potential.
And it’s tempting...
I want to unleash that fire, break through her defenses, and watch her set the world alight.
