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“I don’t want more of your bullshit riddles! Where is he?” My voice carried, drowned out by a flash of lightning.
“You’re so close you’re nearly standing on him.” My stomach dropped, I spun towards the treeline, eyeing the ground, and spotted it, the fresh dirt and the shovel leaning against the tree. No, no, no.
“He probably ran out of air fifteen minutes ago. You can dig him up if you want. He might still be alive. I, on the other hand, have had enough of standing in the rain.” He turned his back on me, took a step, and then paused, “If you want to run away, go ahead. You won’t get far.” He continued towards the deck after that, not bothering to see what I was doing. My hands began to shake, nausea bubbling in my stomach.
I began to question if he was an actual psychopath. Maybe a sociopath. Whatever his diagnosis, he was the coldest sonofabitch I had ever met. His cruelty knew no bounds, dressed up in riddles and slowly revealed truths. Pierce made the worst of sinners look like saints.
I stared at his retreating form seeing nothing but red. So many answers to questions that had haunted me my whole life were now buried six feet under, because of him.
He never saw me coming.
I never gave a warning.
The shovel from the tree was in my hands. At the last second, he turned around, but he wasn’t fast enough. He didn’t make a sound when the end smacked into his head.
I took pleasure in watching him fall for once, instead of me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Every muscle in my body screamed in agony. My heart had yet to find its natural rhythm, but I had done it.
I had managed to drag Pierce back into the house. Unable to find any rope to tie him up with, I’d bound his hands to a spindle on the lower banister with a bundle of panty-hose and string from his dress shoes. Now I was religiously checking his pulse to make sure he was still alive, pacing back and forth.
Mud caked feet dragging across once shiny flooring, my robe clinging to my chilled skin.
Without his input, I was left to figure all of this out on my own as best as I could. Seth wasn’t my father. My actual dad had just been buried in my fiances backyard after being tortured right beneath my nose.
The words father, dad, parent. They meant shit to me. Every parental figure I ever had failed me. Seth was more to me than them and he wasn’t who he claimed to be either. I couldn’t force myself to feel sadness or loss for a total stranger.
However, I could feel plenty of anger.
A low laugh made me pause. I turned and looked at Pierce, finding he was now wide awake.
“You think this is funny?”
“I think you’re incredible and gave me one hell of a headache.” He chuckled in response.
This wasn’t the reaction I had been anticipating. He almost looked proud of me.
“If you want to kill me, there’s a gun taped beneath my nightstand.”
I opened my mouth to say something but couldn’t word it the right way.
“I don’t want to kill you, Pierce, Jesus. I want you to let my sister go and let me leave.”
He stared at me for so long I began to grow uncomfortable. I didn’t want to tie him up like this but maybe he would actually listen to me now.
“I could do that,” he eventually said. “I could give you a car or let you use my plane, set you up and give you access to everything like I planned to when you took my name…but I’m not going to. I’m not letting you go.”
He was tied to a banister and still spoke his piece with his usual blunt, callous demeanor.
“I don’t understand.” I looked to the ceiling as if it had all my answers.
“I’m not letting you go because you and I know that would be hell for both of us. I killed your father because he was going to get you killed, and for taking someone away from me. I don’t purposely do things to hurt you, Willow, but I must do things that will.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I heard the sincerity in his words and knew he was right. Leaving him would be walking away from the only bit of good I’d ever known. Staying would mean I condoned all the terrible things he’d done.
“How can we—” I jumped at the sound of a gunshot from outside. Before I could ask him what was going on, two more went off and a pregnant silence ensued.
“Shit,” I gasped, rushing towards him.
“What are you doing? Get upstairs!” he snapped at me.
“And leave you tied to the banister?” I frantically tried to undo the knots I’d made, panicking when I couldn’t get them back out.
