“He murdered those little girls,” she bites back. “Do you know what it takes to do that, Guy? To shoot children? To shoot your wife? Your family? He’s a monster. Well, he was. Now the world is a better place. Erin’s family can find peace.”
“This isn’t how life works!” I bellow, and she falls quiet. “He should be in prison! He should suffer the right way! You can’t go around choosing who lives and fucking dies!”
“Yes, I can!” She strides toward me. “Tell me you didn’t dream of doing it. Tell me you didn’t lie awake for the last ten years and pray for the strength to do to him what he did to them.”
Of course I did. How could I not? The system wasn’t failing those girls; I was. I couldn’t find a shred of evidence to lock him away, and that was on me—so yes, there were nights I’d fantasize about killing him.
“That’s the difference between you and me,” I say, getting closer, my voice dripping with venom and such fucking disappointment. “I follow the law.”
“The law.” She sneers. “What has the law done for you except steal your life and your daughter?”
Now I do step back. The person she was only minutes ago has vanished, or maybe she never existed. Maybe this version of Monty is the real one, and I allowed myself to be fooled.
“I have no idea who you are,” I say quietly.
“No. You know what scares you, Guy? It’s the fact that you knowexactlywho I am.” She moves close again. I search her face for humanity I know I won’t find. “It isn’t fear, or disappointment, or anger you’re feeling. It’s envy. You don’t wish you’d stopped me. You wish you’d done it first.” My jaw tenses at her words—at the truth behind them.
“Get out of my fucking house,” I whisper through gritted teeth, but neither of us move.
“No, let’s switch roles, instead,” she says, her voice low, sultry, almost seductive. “I’ve told you a bunch of truths, so let’s hear yours. What do you hate about yourself more? That you didn’t see this coming, or that even though you know the truth, you still want to fuck me?”
I’m hot. Painfully hot. Blood rushes through my muscles, and every part of me feels stripped back, torn away, like my basic needs are soaring to the surface. It’s primal, terrifying.
Addictive.
I hate her. I should arrest her.
And yes, I envy her. I want to tear off her skin and see the beast beneath the beauty—to devour it, taste it.
She touches my cheek, cautious at first, and God help me, I don’t pull back. “I did it for you.”
I grip her wrist. “I didn’t ask you to.”
“I saw the look in your eye when you talked about him, and I fixed it.” She slides her other hand up my chest, her fingernails grazing the side of my neck until shereaches my nape. Her lips are close, that tantalizing, sweet cherry smell all around me.
“You’re a monster,” I whisper.
She runs her tongue across her teeth. “Yourmonster.”
God save me.
I pull her to me, kissing her fiercely, forgetting all my senses and the thousand reasons to run from this woman. She responds with equal passion, lacing her arms around my neck.
This is the last thing in the world I should be doing. The woman has just admitted to murder. I should arrest her, take her in, ease my goddamn conscience.
But my senses are muddied.
And I’m so tantalizingly close to the edge of danger that I figure I can risk it a little longer.
Chapter 10
Monty
I’m glad he knows.
I’m glad this happened.
He needs to see the messy, wicked parts of me. He needs to know the truth so that when I leave, he won’t miss me, and I won’t be tempted to come back.
