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Murder and darkness were only reserved for the most vile monsters in my world, ones like this man who stood before me today. In a single act, he’d made me a monster too, but I obviously hadn’t done the job well enough. Someone must have found him after I’d watched him choke on his own bile. He’d had another one of those funky-ass cigars in his hand when he’d fallen off his chair.
I’d left after he’d hit the floor, not staying for the final result. I’d just wanted to get the fuck out of there. His servants had had the day off that morning, a big reason I’d chosen it. I hadn’t needed anyone knowing what I was doing.
I’d even wiped the security cameras.
Upon leaving, I recalled wishing that cigar in his hand would burn down the house with him inside, and I wished I could say it was because I wanted him and the evidence of my presence in his home burned. That’d been far from the reason.
I’d wanted him to burn, and that was when I knew something had changed in me. I’d come full circle. I had crossed a line I couldn’t come back from when it came to my life. My grandfather had made me a murderer, as deep and as dark as some of the shit I’d heard he’d done in the past. The difference was I’d done what I had beyond purely selfish reasons.
At least, that was what I told myself.
In any case, I hadn’t even been able to do that fucking right, my grandfather standing here today.
He watched me watching him, and I bet if he had a cigar now, he’d be studying me from behind the thick smoke. He liked to do that, watch me during our time together. Like it gave him joy or contentment just to be in my presence.
Like he cared and had a soul.
Grandfather’s head lifted again, but soon he was passing his attention over to that corner again. The one with Sloane, my girl still on her phone.
My girl.
How did she know this fucker? None of this made sense.
“What is she to you?” Grandfather Prinze asked me, causing me to blink. I should be asking him that fucking question. His eyes narrowed. “Son?”
I was not this man’s son. I stayed silent, and his hand moved on his cane.
“You’re lucky, you know,” he said. “That I happened to call and she mentioned your situation? You were so sloppy, Dorian.”
I twitched.
His eyes narrowed. “Multiple witnesses saw you fleeing the very scene where the Mayberry woman’s body was ultimately recovered.” He tsked. “They found her in a warehouse and your car had been leaving the area. Like I said, spotted by multiple people, farmers who were up and doing their morning work.”
That was because I’d stayed longer than I should have, too long after my friends had already left.
I honestly didn’t know why really. The guys had all peeled off, but for some reason, I’d stayed by the door on my way out. I’d been angry, frustrated after we recorded Mayberry’s confession.
So much darkness.
I didn’t think I’d hurt our headmaster after my friends left, but what she’d said about her, about her and Charlie, had been so fresh. I’d also just come off the week from hell regarding what I’d done to my grandfather. I’d been in a really dark place.
I wouldn’t have hurt her. I wouldn’t have hurt her.
I believed I wouldn’t have. But it had taken a lot for me to leave after having an opportunity. I had left in the end, though. I had. I’d left.
I’m a good person. I’m not a monster.
My fist clenched, and my grandfather noticed.
His attention in my direction didn’t waver. “Like I said, you were sloppy.” He straightened. “It was a good thing I was around to get you out of that situation.”
My head shot up, my mouth dry.
And my grandfather didn’t even miss a beat.
“When Miss Sloane told me about your situation… told me about my grandson of all people, I was quite disappointed.” He passed a look around the area before finding me again. “Fortunately for you, your uncle’s old girlfriend can’t seem to stay out of trouble.”
What the fuck?
