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“Something doesn’t feel right. I think one of us should go out there,” Vinicius says.
Just then our phones light up with a text message from Lorenzo.
With Chiara and Cassius locked in basement, 42 Lakeside Drive, 35 miles north of Coldlake. House on fire. Call 911. De Luca is the BOK. He’s going to try and kill his family.
I read the message out loud. “Holy shit.”
Vinicius comes to his senses first. “You go to the De Luca home and see if he turns up there. I’ll call 911 and drive out to the lake house.”
Sweat breaks out on my brow. Vinicius has the fastest car and he drives like the devil, but it will still take him thirty minutes to get out there, and meanwhile, Chiara and our baby are trapped in a burning basement.
I turn toward the lounge to tell Chiara’s friends that they need to stay here, only to see Nicole standing in the doorway.
“Did you say 42 Lakeside Drive? That’s my family’s summer house. What’s going on?”
I stare at her blankly for a few seconds.Your father is a sadistic serial killer and he’s put the people I love most and my unborn child in danger.
I force myself to keep my shit together. “Chiara’s at your lake house but she wants you and your mom to stay here. Vinicius is going to get Chiara and the others and I have to go out. You’re all safe here, I promise.”
I don’t wait to see whether she believes me. I bolt for Cassius’ car and start heading across Coldlake. It’s peak hour and there’s so much goddamn traffic. The Black Orchid Killer has eluded us for nine years. My hands sweat on the steering wheel as I picture him slipping through our fingers once again.
When I reach De Luca’s home, all is quiet. I park further down the street and walk back, breaking into the house through the ground floor study window.
So, this is what my sister’s killer’s home looks like. Cream carpet. A water tumbler full of pens standing on a computer desk. I walk through to the lounge and study all the family photos that looked so innocent just a few days ago. Now I know what he is, there’s something off about De Luca’s smile in all the happy lake house, beach house, and theme park photos. His smiles look forced and his eyes are dead, but I would never have noticed if I wasn’t looking for it. No one would ever have noticed. He came home after torturing my sister and his family hugged and kissed him. Mrs. De Luca put a plate of meatloaf in front of him and after dinner, he went upstairs and read his daughter a bedtime story.
I want to rip all these photos from the walls and crush them under my heels while I scream at the top of my lungs.
I have a gun, but I could use some backup so I text Acid.Can you spare Alecta and another hunter? I’m at the De Luca residence waiting for the BOK to show up. It’s De Luca.
Acid replies a moment later.De Luca is the BOK? What a fucking trip. Two hunters on their way.
A few minutes pass and then I hear a car pull up at the house. I peer through the front curtains to see De Luca getting out of a black SUV. His expression is composed and he approaches the house at a normal pace, but there’s something hidden behind his back.
I go and stand behind the lounge door, and I wait, blood pounding in my ears.
De Luca lets himself in and calls, “Honey? Are you home?”
I hear him stop at the lounge door and then continue down the hall. Moving silently, I follow him. He’s got a knife hidden behind his back. He really is planning to murder his family. The wife and daughter wearing Mickey Mouse ears with him at Disneyland.
The world turns red. I have a gun in my hand but I don’t want to use my gun.
I want that fucking knife.
I want to shove it through his neck while he looks me in the eye. I want him to know it’s me who’s killing him.
With a roar I lunge at De Luca and tackle him to the ground, wrestling the knife out of his grip. I’m yelling at the top of my voice. He’s yelling.
I need to stab. Need tohurt.
“You,” he gasps, and the surprise and horror in his wide eyes is the gift I’ve been waiting for. Nine years of pent-up rage and grief break through me as I plunge the knife into De Luca’s chest.
For a second, there’s no blood. There’s just him and me and the realization in his eyes that he’s been forced to the ground in his own home and something’s happened, there’s an ache in his chest, but it can’t be the knife, itcan’tbe.
I yank the blade out and show it to him, covered in his blood. He stares at it, eyes huge.
I stab him again.
And again.
