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He came back.
He actually came back for me.
“Jackson…” I rasped again, barely a sound at all.
“Evie!”
The shapeless figure moved closer as my eyelids fluttered, heavy as stone. My head lolled forward on my shoulders as the pressure at my throat suddenly vanished, the chain being pulled away, metal scraping faintly against skin that no longer felt like mine.
“Oh my God, look at your neck,” a voice snapped. “Sebastian, get the fucking paramedics in here now!” His voice was so loud. “Evie,” he said again, softer this time, breaking through the noise. “Can you hear me? Come on, darling, open your eyes. It’s me.” Hair was pushed away from my cheek, the touch anchoring me for half a second before everything started to slip again.
I just wanted to sleep. My body felt so light, like I would float away if he wasn’t holding me down. Sirens swelled in the distance, and then even that began to fade. “Stay with me,” he said, like it was a command he thought I might still be able to follow. That’s the last thing I remembered before everything faded into a dark, unfeeling abyss. I was floating away, drifting through the nothingness.
No chains binding me.
No more Wayne to hurt me.
Free.
I was finally free.
CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
PETER
Ten Minutes Earlier
Blue and red flashed across the windshield. Sebastian sat beside me in the passenger seat, already on the radio, voice tight and clipped. “Units en route. Suspect confirmed. Repeat—Wayne Gatz confirmed.” My hands were locked on the wheel so hard, my knuckles had gone white, the road ahead blurring into streaks of grey and green as we tore down the street.
Getting confirmation that Wayne was The Skinner wasn’t a joyous feeling. It only brought on a thick cloak of pain and horror. I fucking knew weeks ago that Wayne had something to do with Evie’s disappearance, I should’ve said fuck the protocol and arrested him that night. I can't believe I lived next door to The Skinner this whole time, that I had been that close to Evie. I spent hours upon hours, weeks, months, years searching for her, and I had been looking in all the wrong places.
Sebastian glanced at me once, then looked away again like he didn’t want to say what we were both thinking. The radio crackled again, units confirming location with backup on the way, but it was all distant, because all I could envision was my little sister's face when she realised who was standing in front of her that night. She must have—fuck. They would have driven past the house to get to his. Did she know at that moment that it was the last time she was seeing it? Did she try to jump out? Or was it only when he took her inside his farmhouse that she realised the truth of what was happening?
All the possibilities made me physically sick. I wanted to break down and cry, I wanted to bury myself in my wife’s arms and disappear from this cruel world. I sped past our home, slowing as we came towards the farmhouse. Lights cut through the paddocks, gravel spat under the tyres, then a figure came out of nowhere and jumped in front of the car, arms raised and shouting.
I slammed on the brakes and the car skidded, fishtailing over dirt and loose stone before coming to a harsh, violent stop inches from him. Sebastian swore under his breath, and I was already out of the car before it fully settled.
“Are you insane?” I snapped, stepping forward, adrenaline still burning through me.
“You could’ve been kill—Jackson?”
He was nude, skin bloody and dirt-streaked like he’d run straight out of Hell, but I could recognise those hazel eyes anywhere. He was barely upright, swaying slightly, as if standing itself was an effort he was winning by pure refusal to fall.
“Jesus Christ. It’s okay. You’re safe now. Just get in the car—”
“Evie’s inside!” he shouted, pointing towards the farmhouse.
“What?” I said as my throat tightened.
“She’s alive, Peter! We have to move—”
She’s alive.
My hand went to my radio without thinking, but I didn’t speak into it.
I couldn’t.
Because I couldn’t fucking breathe.
