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Isaac looms over her, the sight sending me spiraling into the basement when he looked down on me exactly like this. Goosebumps ripple across my tattooed arms, and I try to swallow the dryness in my mouth.
“Oh, God!” A broken sob leaves Jane. “I’m bleeding. Please, help me.”
But he doesn’t move to do anything.
He just stands above her, watching. I stare up at the face of the Devil as his dark eyes move the direction of the door. Once. Twice.
He kneels beside her, his face coming into clear view, and the broken sound of Jane thanking him slices through my heart.
I know how this ends.
Slowly, he reaches down, his face blank, emotionless. Just like it always was when he took me to the basement.
Then I look into his eyes, and—
And they’re black.
Soulless.
Jane groans as he lifts her in his arms, her bloody hair taking up most of the screen. Dread coils in my stomach and the room spins around me. My hands tighten on Eve’s shoulders as I shake my head.
“Eve,” I croak. “Turn—”
Isaac slams Jane onto the ground, and a crack reverberates through my fucking body.
“Mama!” Eve cries, her hand moving to the screen.
She jumps from the chair, her back ramrod straight as it collides with my hips. I grunt out a breath and she rushes past me. As she leaves my line of sight, I see it.
I see him.
Kneeling above Jane’s body, the smallest, barely there smirk graces his lips and it sends me over the edge.
Reaching down, I grip the cord and rip it from the fucking wall, ignoring everyone’s stares and murmurs as they watch me storm from the building, chasing after my Goldie.
I get outside in time to see her bend over a trash can and empty all the contents of her stomach into it. Tears choke me as I make my way to her, gently gathering her golden locks in my hands.
She heaves and heaves until nothing else comes out. Staying bent over the bin, she shakes her head. “He–he—”
“I know.”
She’s trembling as I wrap my arms around her and lead her to the truck. Helping her in, I press a kiss to her temple before shutting her door and moving around it. Sliding into the driver’s seat, I grip the steering wheel and dip my head, my eyes squeezing shut.
My fingers flex against the sun-warmed, cracked leather. I try to breathe through the emotions rolling inside me, but it’s nearly fucking impossible.
He killed her.
He killed her.
He killed her.
I feel Eve shift in her seat, turning toward me. But when she speaks, it’s the last words I ever expected to hear from her.
“I’m going to fucking kill him,” she mutters, her voice a deadly promise. My brows pinch together as I shake my head. Those words, that voice, sound wrong coming from her.
Not right.
