“There were four of them,” I whisper, remembering the man at the front of the church who was not one of the MacKenzie brothers. And there were another three behind me, closing me in.
“That’s right.” Asher nods. “At least three men and maybe one woman. They wore masks over their faces.”
“Wait,” I rasp, my throat scratchy. “What do you mean, it was a trap? How do you know that?” My eyes flick from Asher to Barrett to gauge his reaction, and he looks livid.
“I know because… I was there.”
Lightning fast, my eyes are back on Asher. “What?”
“I saved you, Lil.” He leans forward on his seat. “Do you remember that?”
I glance down at his chest where there are smears of blood on his shirt as I try to search my memories. There were four of them. One I killed, but then I… got shot.
Shit, that’s right. I got shot and then they were beating me… I thought I was going to die. I was sure I was.
But then… Someone else was there.
“That was you?” I whisper, my eyes locking with his again,and he nods. “But how? Why were you there? How did you fight them off?”
Asher shifts in his chair, darting a glance over his shoulder at Barrett before returning his uneasy gaze to me.
“You wanna tell her, or shall I?” Barrett snaps, his deep voice loud in the small space.
“Tell me what?” I breathe, almost too scared to find out, given the anger lacing Barrett’s tone.
“Fuck, Lily. It was me,” Asher blurts. “I’m the one who’s been stalking your kills and sending you the pictures.”
My brow creases so intensely that it almost hurts, and I have to assume the pain doesn’t come because of the meds that are pumping through my veins.
“What?” I whisper, trying to make sense of what he’s saying.
“I sent you the envelopes, Lil.”
I shake my head, so fucking confused.
Asher is the one who sent me the envelopes containing pictures of me killing… I shake my head.
“How is that possible?”
“I’ve been following you for years, watching you kill,” he admits quietly, standing and starting to pace with his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, something I haven’t seen him do since he was sixteen. “I started taking pictures of you killing when I realised how fucking beautiful it was.” He stops pacing and faces me, his intense gaze locking back with mine. “How fucking beautifulyouare when you torture and end your victims’ lives. There’s nothing like it.”
The room falls silent for a few long beats before Asher clears his throat, his gaze locked on my expression. I can’t even control it. It morphs quickly from confused to angry with each passing second.
“I took the photos for myself at first,” he continues. “But then, as I got older, I wanted to show you how breathtaking you are like that. I wanted you to know that I knew…” He shakes his head, his eyes dropping to the bed as he frowns. “But how could I possibly tell you that I stumbled upon your secret? That was never going to go well. I was hoping I’d have more time to show you how good we are together before revealing that I’ve known you were the Crimson Angel for years.”
He’s known… for years?
“But… I don’t understand. You were in prison. Who delivered the envelopes?” I ask, my head hurting from Asher’s revelation.
“My mate Gordy delivered them for me until I got out. I had them ready to go, already sealed. He never looked. Never knew what he was delivering, only that he had to remain out of sight and not get caught.” He gives his head a shake, his eyes looking distant for a moment. “You caught me with one at your house just last week, and I pretended I found it, but really, I was about to leave it for you.”
“For the record,” Barrett butts in, moving away from the wall and coming to the end of my bed, glaring at Asher. “I don’t fucking believe you. This is too much of a coincidence. You have something to do with the hit on Lily, don’t you?”
Asher rolls his eyes. “I fucking love her. Why would I want her dead? I fucking saved her.”
Barrett shakes his head. “Did someone hire you?”
“Didn’t you hear what I just said?” Asher snarls, his hands shooting from his pockets as they ball into fists at his sides.
