“No. I’m a pissed off crazy bitch. You knew me when I was younger. You knew my brother too.”
A smirk graces my lips as the color starts draining from his eyes. “Those tears won’t save you, whore,” I repeat, though this time I can see him realizing why I’m saying those words. “Beg me to stop.”
He turns as white as the ghost he thinks I am, and I face Tyler again as he tries to piece it all together.
“Play nice, Victoria. It’ll hurt a lot less if you just play nice.”
Don’t cry, Victoria. Don’t let them see they’ve broken you.
But I do break. I break hard. I break to the sounds of my brother’s screams from behind me as he begs and begs and begs… And they just laugh.
As though the sounds are music to their ears.
I want those ears to bleed.
“Play nice, Tyler. It’ll hurt a lot less if you just play nice,” I taunt, watching as the same wave of realization washes over him.
His eyes widen to the point of being painful, and Jake grins as he takes it all in. He always has to miss this part. I may have a new kind of partner if he can stomach the rest. I’d like for him to be a part of it. It’s just as much his revenge as it is mine. We both loved Marcus.
And they took him away.
I move in front of Lawrence, and Jake hands me my favorite knife. It’s dull. It’s brutal. And it hurts like hell when I finally get the skin to tear apart.
“You’re dead,” the prick wheezes, watching me in disbelief. “You’re supposed to be dead.”
I stare up at him, moving the blade over his thigh, feeling his tremble.
“You should have killed me deader,” I say just as the blade digs into the yielding flesh.
He cries out in pain when the flesh finally splits, and I take my time. “I’ll need a sharp one for his ears,” I tell Jake as Tyler vomits to the sounds of Lawrence’s screams.
Then I continue, shifting to Tyler, letting them watch each other slowly be killed.
“Hope you boys aren’t sleepy. I changed my mind about your debt days. It’s going to be a long week.”
Chapter 15
You cannot simultaneously prevent and prepare for war.
—Albert Einstein
LOGAN
I glance down at my phone, reading the latest text from Lana.
LANA: I’ll call you tonight if you’re free. Sorry I missed your call earlier. It’s been a crazy few days.
“Oh, heart emoji! Shit’s getting real,” Craig says over my shoulder, earning an elbow to his gut.
Rolling my eyes as he grunts and coughs, I text her back.
ME: Tonight should work, as long as no one calls in with any leads. We know who the killer is, and we’ve been blasting his face all over the news. You were right. It’s definitely one of the paid-under-the-table custodial workers. He managed to escape though, so there’s a city-wide manhunt underway.
LANA: Be careful. He’s always been overlooked, and with the new bout of attention, he’s likely to enjoy the thrill of notoriety. He may crave more attention and come after you if the buzz wears off too soon. Killing the lead FBI agent who ran the hunt against him would give him even more attention.
I’ve never wanted to date a profiler, simply because work and sex don’t mix well together in my experience. Lisa, for example, is a thorn in my side since things ended years ago, and now she’s under my command.
It’s awkward. It’s frustrating. And she uses our past against me every chance she gets.