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“Well, I can’t go on without making these sick fucks pay,” she said quietly. “Do you get that? Do you understand what they did to me? What I went through for ten fucking years? Maybe Shelby can go to therapy and get all better, and of course, I’m so fucking proud of her, but she only spent two years in there, Maddox. I had ten fucking years of that hell. Ten miserable years.” She took a sharp breath, her heart racing. “I need this.”
He hesitated for a moment, letting her words sink in, anguish written on his features. “Okay,” he muttered.
“Okay, what?” she retorted. She had hoped for this, that Maddox would accept the monster in her, see the darkness and love her anyway. She’d hoped for it like she’d hoped he’d rescue her those first weeks. She didn’t expect him to come through.
“Okay, I get it. And I’ll do what I can to cover your tracks. But Orion . . .” His voice trailed off. He cocked his head, looked her deep in the eyes. “Can you at least stick to the ones in Clark County? Make my job a little easier.”
Orion blinked rapidly. Was this happening? Hope was winning out. Maddox wasn’t saving her. Not in the conventional hero, damsel in distress kind of way, at least. This had not been written in any fucking fairy tale or put in any fucking Disney movie.
“Won’t that alert the cops? Like, the ones above you?” Orion clarified.
He met her stare, his eyes glittering with anger. Yes, he was pissed off at her for this. “Not if there are no bodies. And not if I’m scrubbing any evidence.”
She nodded, a hand to her chin. She abruptly put a hand out. “Deal.”
He shook his head, disappointed and a little amused. Then he took her hand, pulling her in, and kissed her long and hard.
These violent delights have violent ends.
– William Shakespeare
