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“I thought I saw a ghost the day we met at Jake’s,” he growls in my ear. “I couldn’t believe my luck, getting to kill the same pretty girl twice.”
The taunting does its intended job, making me freeze under him long enough for him to get my hands over my head. I fight, getting one arm free, but instead of him struggling to get it back under control, he hits me.
Fire blooms from my cheek, the pain so immense that my eyes water. Sobs bubble from my throat as he pulls a length of rope from his pocket, hitting me two more times in the exact same place when I fight against his intention to tie my hands. He utilizes every second of my shock and the natural reaction to attempt to cover my face to tie my wrists together. Absently, I realize the ligature marks will be different, but Colton is a good cop. He’ll eventually put two and two together and come to the conclusion that my murder is connected to the others.
I twist my body, trying to dislodge him, but he doesn’t budge. My legs feel like they weigh a million pounds each, making me wonder how much damage his blows to my face caused.
My vision swims, tunneling in and out, over and over.
“…and the cop killing himself? Just icing on the fucking cake.”
It’s not a good sign that he’s continuing to talk and taunt and I’m missing pieces of it. I don’t know if it’s head trauma or fear, but I’m not able to focus on every word. I know how bad of a sign that is.
“I blame your sister for his fucking death,” he growls, gripping my face harshly in his hand and forcing my eyes in his direction.
I look away the second I’m able, but it only pisses him off more.
The rip of my shirt makes me fight harder, but his growled commands mean nothing to me. I know what happens before his victims die, and if fighting means dying faster then that’s the fate I’ll pick every time.
His face is nothing but hatred and rage as he hits me over and over. I taste blood and I know it’s a really bad sign that I don’t even feel the last strike to my face. I only know it happens because my head is snapped to the side.
“My brother did exactly what he was supposed to do. If we got caught, there’s only one way out. He never named me, never told them he had help.”
His hands are around my throat again, the sneer on his face forcing my eyes closed. I’ll be damned if his fucking face is the last thing I see before I die.
I try to grasp onto good memories, the things that made me smile, but there has always been so much pain and heartbreak in my life, I struggle to draw anything from memory.
Sawyer.
Those are the good memories.
I don’t get to pick and choose how the man fills my mind, but even in dying, it isn’t the sex that races to the forefront.
His smile. Those pretty blue eyes and dark, almost ebony hair. His hand on my cheek. The smile on his face when he’s pleased.
Sound fades, becoming nothing but the sound of my heart in my ears. It’s as if I’m under water, and I decide dying isn’t so bad. It’s tranquil really.
“And this is another murder that piece of shit biker will be charged with. I fucking made sure of it.”
But then his weight is gone. The hands lift from my throat. I struggle to argue, to beg him not to pin it on Sawyer. There’s an apology on my lips for getting him involved in the first damn place despite his connection to Elizabeth Burr before I ever met him.
No sound comes out. I can’t even seem to open my eyes.
My body jerks, but I can’t tell if it’s him moving me or some sort of reaction to the damage he’s caused.
Wetness streaks down my face, and I have no way of telling if it’s tears or blood.
At this point, I know it doesn’t matter.
Dead is dead.
Chapter 28
Ugly
Kid rushes back in our direction, his face ashen.
“He’s got her tied up on the floor,” he says. Kincaid automatically reaches out and pushes me against the side of the SUV when I go to move in the direction of the house.
“You fucking know better,” my boss growls, his mouth right next to my ear because it’s taking all of his strength to keep me in place.
“We go in now,” I hiss, my voice low. Even with how upset I am, I know making Dixon aware of our presence only means horrible things for Lennox.
“We need to wait for SWAT,” Colton says as he approaches.
“No fucking way. Every second we wait—” I can’t even finish the thought. We’re all aware of what that man does to his victims.
