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I would murder for her.
I would accept death for her.
I would kill whoever she needed so I never, never had to see her hurting like this again.
“Who is he?”
She choked on a sob as our eyes met but then she straightened her shoulders and whispered too quiet for the sea to hear. “His name’s Ethan. He’s friends with Zara’s new boyfriend.”
“What does he look like?”
“Blond, shaggy hair. Tall. A grey shirt with a Celtic emblem on the breast pocket.”
Her words seared into my brain.
I finally had an enemy.
She opened her mouth to tell me more, but I had everything I needed.
I stalked away from her.
I vanished into the captain’s cabin, and ripped open the cabinet holding diving knives and a speargun. Grabbing the biggest blade and the harpoon, I marched to the side of the boat.
Leaping over the railing, I bolted up the pier and didn’t look back.
Chapter Forty-One
*
Aslan
*
(Moon in Galician: Lúa)
HE STOOD PISSING ON SOME WEEDS AROUND the side of the house.
The party was even more chaotic. The music louder. The guests drunker. No one noticed me stalking through their midst with the diving knife hidden in the waistband of my jeans. I didn’t bring the speargun. I didn’t trust myself not to shoot him in the fucking face the moment I found him.
The entire drive here, my heart had resembled an earthquake, rumbling with revenge, cracking with fury, creating craters and crevices where evil things sprang from.
Every part of me burned with rage I couldn’t control.
He would die tonight.
Of that, I had no doubt...but I wanted to make him scream first.
I wanted him to feel a tenth of the pain he’d caused Neri.
I’d spoon out his eyes for daring to look at her. I’d break off his fingers for daring to touch her. I’d rip out his tongue for daring to taste her. I’d flay his cock into ribbons and feed it to him for fucking daring to be inside her.
Only once he was begging and pissing through a bleeding hole in his body would I put him out of his misery.
A black thought wriggled through my brain.
For all my upbringing as the son of a professor and all my attempts at being good, it turned out I couldn’t run from who I truly was. Who I’d been hiding from since I was born. Who my very parents had tried to protect me from.
Pulling the knife from my waistband, I kept my breathing shallow and quiet as I prowled toward the shaggy blond-haired guy wearing a grey shirt with a tribal emblem on the pocket. I’d followed him from the kitchen where he’d joked with a dark-skinned guy and Zara.
I’d buckled beneath fury, waiting to hear his name. Needing to know I’d found the right bastard.
Zara laughed at something he said.
He’d whispered in her ear.
And then she’d said his name. “Oh, Ethan. You’re freaking hilarious.”
My insides turned to ice. My blood to frost. My rage to a funnelling blizzard.
I’d almost thrown myself across the room to strangle Neri’s so-called best friend. Had she heard Neri screaming? Did she know that she was laughing with a motherfucking rapist?
My anger spiralled out of control again.
I inhaled hard, bringing my attention back to the guy holding his dick as he watered the garden beds. The same dick that’d been inside Neri. The same dick that’d raped—
FUCK!
My vision went red. I backed into the shadows by the rubbish bins.
Calm down.
If I didn’t, I’d kill him.
Right here.
I’d slice open his throat until his blood sprayed the entire utility side of the house and then I’d gut him, rip out the ribbons of his intestines, and—
“Ah, shit! Cops!” a girl screamed.
“Time to go!” a guy laughed.
The music inside the house screeched into silence. Chaos ruled as people fled Zara’s house like ants escaping a fire.
Ethan looked over his shoulder, past me in the shadows, to the stampeding feet of people fleeing from the garden. Stuffing his dick back in his pants, he stumbled in my direction.
I had to make a decision.
A very quick decision.
The police were here.
I couldn’t be arrested but I also couldn’t let Ethan leave.
He tripped a little and muttered like a drunk as he skirted the rubbish bins and then...
Dropped stone-cold unconscious by my feet.
I blinked at my outstretched arm. At the butt of the knife I’d used to strike him in the back of the skull. At the twanging vibration shooting up my forearm from hitting him before I’d even made the decision.
Lowering my arm, I nudged the rapist with the toe of my flip-flops.
He didn’t move. Didn’t even mumble.
Shit...now what?
“Everyone, go home. Anyone found loitering on the streets will be taken into custody. Any underage drinking will be firmly dealt with. Anyone found driving under the influence will spend the night in jail and have a date with a judge.” The echoes of a male police officer’s warnings drifted out the open kitchen window beside me.
