AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You were a pathetic thing when we met. The runt of the litter. You were your friends’ pet.”
“Don’t listen to him,” I said. “None of that’s true.”
But Laurel’s tears came faster now. There was an acceptance in her eyes that gutted me.
Don’s voice deepened, and she leaned closer. “All these years, you’ve let me push you, test your limits. You’ve trusted me, and I’ve grown you, made you feel things you never would’ve without me. I made you a good woman. You owe me.”
“He’s lying,” I said. “You were already good. Remember our life before him? You had your plays, we went to concerts and parties and sled in the snow. We werehappy.”
“But you killed Rachel. With the very dagger you’re holding.” Don shook his head. “If anyone finds out, what do you think’s going to happen? Not every cop is our friend. They’ll lock you up and throw away the key. Your poor mom will watch your trial. The woman will probably drop dead from shock. Then both your parents’ deaths will be on your hands.”
“Donkilled Rachel,” I said. “It was him doing it through you, pulling your strings. Everyone will see that.”
But Laurel was sobbing now.
I staggered to my feet, but Don blocked me. “Be strong,” he urged Laurel. “Be my best girl. Then no one will ever top you.”
“Laurel,please.” My plea echoed through the room. Her head jerked, and our eyes locked. “Drop the knife. We can leave together, go somewhere safe. No one will blame you for anything.” I tried to smile, but my lips wouldn’t obey. “We’ll tell them your story. Once they hear it, they’ll understand.”
It was all I wanted, to get it right this time.
“You remember what happened the last time you listened to her,” Don said. “How lost and alone you were. Do what I say, Laurel. Obey me like a daughter should. Like a wife, to her husband. Die for me.”
She looked at me, and I could see straight inside her to the wounds Don had made. I could see the good and bad of her, her loyalty and yearning, triumphs and disappointments, all the ways we’d failed each other. Most of all, I saw this: I’d wanted so badly for her to make it out. But for Laurel, there was no such thing as out. There was nothing but Don’s voice, echoing through every chamber of her mind.
I lunged, crying, but it was too late—
Laurel pulled the knife, opened a seam across her throat, and unmade herself.
Chapter Forty
Laurel Hargrove died for the second time, bleeding out on the floor. Her arterial blood dripped warm down my face, and that was it—there was nothing more to hold on to. I stood frozen, watching the blood soak the top of her ballgown, lost in a fog of shock.
“Look what I did,” said Don, his voice awed.
Climb back, Shay, whispered a new voice, different from the insidious one, the echo of Don in my head. This new voice was as soft as Laurel’s, with a brightness I remembered from her strong, healthy days.Don’t let him have you, too.
I stared at Don, the king of the Paters. He held up his hands. “I didn’t even touch her.” He looked at me, and I swear to god, there was wonder in his eyes.
Then everything happened at once.
A heavy crash boomed upstairs, like something being smashed, and a scream rent the air. Deep voices shouted, and thundering footsteps shook the basement ceiling. It was the sound of chaos, of break-in and interruption.
Don and I reacted at the same time.
He lunged for me and I lunged for the ax. He slammed into my side shoulder-first, a tackle, and we both hit the floor so hard the air rushed from my lungs. I forced myself to my knees as Don scrambled behind me, seizing my ankles, pulling me back. I kicked, heart thundering like a rabbit’s, and out of pure luck connected with his chin. His head snapped and I lurched forward, finding my feet again, trying for the ax but leaping away when he roared and dove for me.
I seized the wooden chair instead, adrenaline singing in my blood, and brought it down as hard as I could over his head. The wood snapped, shattering, and he reared back, a slash of blood down his face—bright and coppery, red and dripping. He gripped the wound and glared at me, his beautiful face distorted by blood and burning anger.
Pain peels back the layers, said the soft voice.Give him more.
“You won’t make it out of this basement alive,” Don said, so quiet I could barely hear him over the footsteps running above us. He wiped the blood from his face and braced himself against the floor. “I’ll bury you and Laurel side by side.”
I watched him, chest heaving, holding a leg of the chair, the piece that had broken off in my hand. I prayed the chaos upstairs meant Jamie’s plan had worked.
I had to get up there—now or never. I whipped the chair leg at Don’s face and took off, racing across the basement. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him, on his feet so fast. I heard a clatter, like he’d run into a table, and pushed my legs harder, eyes on the stairs.
But Don was strong, his wingspan wide. Stronger and taller by nature, like he used to say. My foot found the first step, and then he was there, gripping the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair. He shoved me down and my temple slammed against the stairs, thoughts unraveling. My muscles went limp.
