“Another predator preying on someone vulnerable,” I said mostly to myself. Brooding, she’d probably call it.
Her hands stilled. “What?”
“They all have that in common, don’t they?” I kept my voice low. Controlled. “Pedophiles. Rapists. Abusers. They all pick targets who can’t fight back. People who are smaller. Weaker. Kinder.”
Harper’s green eyes lifted to mine. “Says the convicted murderer sitting in prison.”
She smiled when she said it. Trying to defuse me. Trying to remind me that I was in no position to play judge and jury.
It wasn’t going to work.
“Yeah.” I held her gaze. “I suppose I belong in that category. But I don’t put myself there. You know why?”
She didn’t answer.
“Because I didn’t kill some helpless, innocent victim.” I leaned forward slightly, watching her reaction. “The man I killed? I eradicated this earth of a sick motherfucker who was preying on children.”
Her eyes went wide.
Good. Now she understood exactly what kind of man she was dealing with.
“And now this asshole preyed on you.” My voice dropped lower. “You. The woman who dedicated her life to helping people. You, who shows up every day to patch up inmates who don’t deserve a fraction of your kindness.” I paused, letting the weight of my next words settle between us. “You. The woman I care about more than any other woman I have ever cared about.”
“Knox …”
“That piece of shit is a cancer.” The words came out sharp. Precise. “Infecting everyone he touches. Spreading his disease through this world one victim at a time. And every person hehurts is changed forever. Some of them will go on to hurt others. Repeat the cycle. Pass the trauma down like a fucking inheritance.”
“Please stop talking like this.” Her voice wavered. “You sound like a vigilante.”
“When cancer invades your body, you don’t negotiate with it.” I met her eyes. “You cut it out.”
“Knox—”
“If you think I’ll stand by while some asshole leaves bruises on your body …” I shook my head slowly. “If you think I’ll do nothing about it, you misjudged me.”
“Your parole hearing is coming up.”
“Fuck my parole hearing.”
“Your daughter.”
The words hit me like a punch to the chest.
Gwen.
My little girl, who I hadn’t held in years.
For a split second, the rage flickered.
Then I looked at Harper’s face. At the shadow beneath her concealer. At the fear she was trying so hard to hide.
“He. Laid. Hands. On. You.”
Each word landed like a hammer strike.
Harper’s jaw tightened. “You need to calm down. Go back to your cell. Do some meditation or something.”
A harsh laugh escaped me. “Meditate? You think I can fucking meditate my way out of wanting revenge against the guy who hurt you?”
