“Do you know how hard it is for a guy like me to land a girl like that?” There’s a moment of silence, and I imagine Sage shaking her head. “It might look like I have it all, but I don’t. Not anymore, anyway. When he killed her, he took everything from me. She was beautiful. Young, with strawberry-blond hair, and the most beautiful blue eyes you’ve ever seen. I was taken with her immediately, but unfortunately for all of us, so was your fucking boyfriend.”
My eyebrows draw together in confusion. Amelia wasn’t with anyone before I killed her.
I inch closer to get eyes on him just in time to see his fist slam into the wall. Sage is shivering in front of him and holding an arm over her breasts and covering her groin with her hand as much as she can. Neither of them sees me, and that’s for the best.
A part of me wants to take advantage of the situation and lunge at Ryan right now, but I need him to continue. I need to know how he found out I’m the one who killed Amelia.
“They never found the body, you know. No body, no crime. After searching for two years, the police gave up entirely. Amelia’s parents are dead and gone. She didn’t have any siblings, and all her friends have long since forgotten about her. But I haven’t.” He steps closer to Sage and grabs her arm to push it away from her breasts. “The police told me she ran away. Got cold feet before the wedding. But I found her journal where she talked about Travis. He pretended to be her friend until she let her guard down, and he killed her.”
Shit. How did I miss a fucking journal?
“Please, just let me go,” Sage pleads with tears streaking down her face. “I don’t have anything to do with that. Travis means nothing—”
Ryan interrupts her with a condescending laugh. He points to the fireplace mantel and some trinkets resting on top. “I have cameras. I’ve seen just how much he means to you. I rented out my cabin and sent you to his address, hoping he would kill you and I would catch him in the act. Instead, you did something even better. You gave me a more fitting chance of revenge. You did that for me. I suppose I should thank you.”
Ryan slowly moves closer to Sage as she backs away, and I know I can’t wait any longer. If he lays another hand on her, I’m going to blow up. I move toward him as quietly as I can out of the hallway, tiptoeing around broken glass to ensure I don’t make a sound.
My eyes are glued to Ryan like a hawk hovering above a field mouse. Sage’s eyes flicker to me, and Ryan notices. Unfortunately for him, it’stoo late. I’m already behind him with my hands on either side of his head. He tries to flail against me, his finger pulling the trigger, and the gun goes off, shattering a window.
I break his neck, and he goes limp before I let him collapse to the ground. I stare at him for only a moment to make sure he’s dead before my eyes search for Sage to make sure she’s okay. She runs into my arms, and her entire body shakes as she sobs against me.
Not exactly how I pictured our reunion. Less violins and heartfelt confessions, more corpse on the floor and broken window draft blowing directly up my ass.
My muscles go stiff, as I’m still not used to comforting someone this way. I came here angry at Sage, with every intention of letting her know that. But right now all I can do is try to comfort her, however difficult that may be.
I wrap my arms around her and hold her close. “It’s going to be okay,” I whisper in her ear, not knowing how true that is.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Sage
Travis immediately gets to work when I stop crying. He killed Ryan, and now he has to dispose of the body. I feel like I’m on autopilot, wandering around the cabin aimlessly. I spent ten minutes holding a mug of coffee I didn’t remember pouring, talking to a dead houseplant like it owed me rent. At some point I think I tried to microwave a spoon. It doesn’t even occur to me that this could potentially be linked to me until I’m watching Travis load Ryan’s body into his SUV.
The weight of everything Ryan told me is still on my shoulders, and I don’t know how to shake it off. Even though Ryan was an absolute creep who deserved to die, a part of me feels bad for him. Travis hasn’t admitted to killing Amelia. Other than instructions about things to do to help him, he hasn’t said anything. But I know it’s true.
Travis probably killed her and disposed of her at the crematorium he bought or one of the abandoned factories he used in the past. Her ashes are probably scattered somewhere already, taken away with the wind and gone forever.
The idea of him killing Nicole was already bad enough. She’s innocent and doesn’t deserve to be targeted by someone like him. But seeing the direct repercussions of someone losing a loved one makes it even morecomplicated. Then there is the fact that Travis saved my life yet again. I didn’t think it could be more complicated, but alas.
Neither of us says anything during the drive to the crematorium. Travis gave me his sweater to stave off the evening chill, and even with the heat blasting on me in the car, I can hardly feel anything. My entire body is numb after what just happened.
Travis does everything himself when we get to the crematorium, and I just sit idly and watch. It might not be very helpful, but Travis has done this by himself for a long time. He is about to press the button to start the oven when a spark of anger has me stand up and stop him. Ryan meant to killme. I should be the one to send him off.
“Let me do it.” I walk across the room and push his hand aside. “I want to watch him burn.”
Travis doesn’t say anything, but he lets me take over. I press the button to turn the ovens on and watch as flames rise. It won’t take long before it’s hot enough to completely disintegrate Ryan’s body to ash. I stand beside it the entire time, waiting. Travis lingers over my shoulder but doesn’t stop me.
I’m the one who opens the oven door, and I watch as Travis pushes him inside. I close it and keep my eyes glued to Ryan’s body the entire time he’s in there. Travis stands beside me, doing the same thing. There’s a quiet reverence in the room, as if we are silently worshipping the flames. I half expect Gregorian chants to start playing or for someone to hand me a hymnal titledHotter than Hell: A Cremation Companion.
Flames rise from the bottom of the oven, licking against Ryan’s cold flesh as they swallow him whole. I watch his body turn to ash feeling like a weight has been lifted off me. The memory of everything he could have done to me, things I saw in his eyes from the moment I met him, seems to burn with him.
“What happens next?” I ask Travis without looking at him. My voice is calm and emotionless, and I keep my eyes trained on the fire. “I can’t handle the thought of you killing innocent people. So what happens next?”
He doesn’t answer right away. I don’t need to look at him to know he’s thinking about that himself. I’m sure it’s not the first time the thought has crossed his mind either.
“I can’t kill you. But I can’t stop doing what I do either,” he says with a hint of disappointment in his voice. I can’t tell if it’s because he can’t kill me or because he can’t stop. Either way, it’s unsettling. “Maybe it’s best if I just let you go.”
That finally takes my attention away from the fire, and I look at him, putting a stony expression on my face. After everything he’s told me—after everything I’ve seen—can he really just let me go?
