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His grin widened, but he didn’t remove his hand despite my ignoring it. “I’m not the one you should be scared of.”

“Meaning?”

Finally, he pulled his hand away and stepped back, giving me space to get to my feet on my own. “I thought you were a bright girl, Charlotte. I’m sure you know what I mean.”

Dusting my dress down, I glanced around. He’d locked me in a library; the only light shining down on us was from the moon’s rays. “You know nothing about me,” I spat, my mind racing with what he wanted and how I could get past him to reach the door.

Edward ran a thumb over his lip, mimicking the action Jacob often did. “I know more than you think.” A chill ran through me at his ominous statement. “Look, Charlotte. I really don’t want to hurt you. I want to help you.”

My brows furrowed. “Help me?”

“Yes. I don’t think you realize how much danger you’re in with my brother.”

The blood thrumming in my veins instantly turned to ice, my heart freezing mid-beat. “What, uh, what do you mean?”

“Jacob. He isn’t who you think he is,” Edward said, his tone stoic.

I blinked at him, attempting to understand what his game was. Unable to figure it out, though, frustration took root deep inside of me. He was messing with me; he had to be. But why? “I don’t know what you’re-”

“He’s a murderer.”

A gasp erupted from me before I could stop it, and my heart unfroze, furiously racing in a millisecond. Words died on my tongue as I gaped at Edward, the word murderer spinning around and around in my head as Rocco’s face floated before me.

I swayed on the spot; Jacob hadn’t exactly denied my accusation that he’d killed Rocco, but I still didn’t believe he was capable of murder. Even so, how would Edward know what had happened on the boat?

“Are you okay? You’ve gone pale,” Edward said, breaking me out of my chaotic thoughts.

No. I wasn’t okay. But that wasn’t my reply. “What are you talking about?” I asked, feigning innocence.

He sighed, a flash of regret lighting up his eyes. Was he lying? Was he feeding me crap to get at Jacob because of whatever feud they had going on? “Has he ever spoken about a girl called Amy?”

What?

The name was familiar, and I stared at Edward for several seconds as my thoughts jumped back to the argument we’d had about me going to college. Jacob hadn’t wanted me to go because his friend had been raped. “Yes. She killed herself.”

Edward’s features contorted into a snarl. “She didn’t kill herself; Jacob murdered her.” My jaw dropped to the floor, the room around me starting to spin. “He killed her, and then he made it look like suicide.”

“You’re lying.”

Edward leaped forward and grabbed my arms, his fingers digging into my skin. In that moment, he reminded me so much of Jacob, turning from calm to crazy in the space of a heartbeat. “I’m not lying, Charlotte. He was obsessed with her, the way he is with you,” he hissed viciously, spittle flying from his mouth. “But she rejected him, and then, when he found out that she went to a party and willingly fucked a couple of guys, he lost his shit. He drugged her, and while she was semi-conscious, he forced nearly a bottle of vodka down her throat.”

His voice broke, and he released me, taking a step back to run a hand through his hair. Tears stabbed my eyes, confusion rushing through me. “No, she…she killed herself,” I muttered weakly. “She drove her car into a tree,” I added, recalling how Amy had died according to Jacob.

“No, she didn’t,” Edward said softly. “Jacob murdered her. He drove her to the woods and moved her unconscious body into the driver’s seat. He put a brick on the gas pedal and released the handbrake, and then watched her car slam into a tree at seventy miles an hour.”

My hand flew to my mouth, covering yet another gasp, the image of what Edward had described playing out like a sick movie clip with Jacob standing to one side, an evil smile on his face. Like the one he wore as he hovered over me while I was having his name tattooed onto me.

I shook my head, not willing to believe it. It was a ludicrous claim; Edward must have been making this up. Instead of accusing him of lying, though, I asked, “How do you know?”

His eyes narrowed on me, and for several seconds, he didn’t reply. His body slumped. “I don’t. Not for sure, but that’s what I suspect happened. Jacob was murderous when Amy rejected him, and she came to me a day before she was killed, asking me to help her. She said she was scared that Jacob was going to hurt her, but I didn’t.” His gaze dropped to the floor. “And then she died.”

Fury replaced every other emotion flowing through me. “That doesn’t mean Jacob killed her!” I shrieked. “You can’t go around making scenarios up and accusing him of murder when you have absolutely no proof!”

“He never denied it when I confronted him.”

“So? That still doesn’t give you the right to brand him a murderer.” I bit the inside of my cheek as shame collided into me. Hadn’t I accused him of the same thing? Shaking my head, I attempted to dart around Edward, more than ready for this conversation to be over, but he blocked my way. “Let me out.”

“Just listen to me. When I heard you and he were married, I started asking around about you. Your friends are worried about you. They haven’t heard from you in months.”