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I nod. “Good. Now say, I’m sorry for using those images to get what I wanted. I’m a sick bastard.”
When Roman’s breath hitches in his throat and he doesn’t speak, I tighten my grip to the point I’m sure his vision is beginning to blur as his limbs grow heavy.
“I-I’m sorry for u-using those images to get w-what I wanted.”
I grin, using my free hand to reach into my pocket and pull out my knife. The sound the metal makes when I flip it open is like music to my ears. Loosening my grip around his neck, I press the blade against his throat as he gasps for air. But he stills when he feels the cool metal, his eyes filled with fear.
Unfortunately for him, I enjoy seeing fear in people's eyes.
“I told you today that I would track you down and kill you if you ever laid a hand on my little angel again.” I lick my lips. I’m enjoying this way too much. This is a once-in-a-blue-moon thing for me. “I was going to let it go, but I realized that you’re too much of a threat to Evie. You’re a fucking psychopath who can’t seem to listen. And because of that, I’m going to have to put an end to you.”
“N-No, please—”
The blade slicing across Roman’s throat forces whatever he was going to say to die in his throat, blood splattering across the walls of his room. His body instantly goes limp as the life is drained from him, and he falls with a thud to the floor.
My fangs lengthen as I bring the blade to my lips, running the flat side of it down my tongue, his blood hot and delicious as it slides down my throat. Oh, this is going to be good. Feasting on the blood of my enemy. What could be better? The cleanup is going to be a pain in my fucking ass though. Ethan is going to be so pissed when I call him to help.
But as I said, I will do anything to ensure Evie’s safety, even if it means killing her piece of shit ex-boyfriend. After what he did to her, he deserved it. His actions were escalating, so I had to put a stop to it. I would go to the ends of the earth to protect my little angel. Even if it means burning it to the fucking ground.
13
Evie
Darkness. Nothing but darkness consumes my sight, making it hard for me to breathe. Almost like a heavy weight is being pressed down on my chest, forcing the air out of my lungs, and leaving me gasping.
But there is something else in the mix. Something… metallic. Blood.
The scent is so strong that I feel as though I’m drowning in it as it swallows me whole, sucking me deep into the depths of darkness. My body feels frozen in time while everything around me moves in slow motion. My fingers are numb, and I can’t tell if I’m sitting or standing. I can’t make much sense of anything as the metallic scent of blood settles deep within my senses.
My eyes feel heavy as they drag up the staircase, locking with the man at the top as he stands over the bodies of my parents. A shiver races down my spine at the intensity of his eyes. Blue like a sapphire gemstone, twinkling under the dim light of the streetlamps shining through the upstairs window.
But that’s all I can see as they stare back at me, unblinking. For a split second, I catch an emotion behind them that takes me by surprise—sadness. So much sadness that it reflects in his irises, leaving me confused.
If he’s the one standing over my parents—murdered—then why is he the one who’s sad?
But just as quickly as the emotion presents itself, it’s gone in the blink of an eye. Instead, it’s the words I hear fall from his lips that still my beating heart in my chest, turning my blood to ice.
“No! My sweet Rose…no. I was too late.”
My eyes snap open, my heart beating so hard it feels as though it’s going to slam through my rib cage. As I look around my bedroom, my vision is blurry, but I can make out Rylee’s sleeping form in bed, her back to me as she faces the wall.
Once reality sets in and I know that it was just a dream, or rather, a memory, I fall back against my pillows, blowing out a puff of air.
What the actual fuck was that?
The words are still ringing in my head as I repeat them, trying to understand them.
My sweet Rose… no.
I was too late.
What does that even mean? And who the hell was that man I saw standing over my parents that night? And why was he so upset that my mom had been killed? Was he a friend of hers? If so, how did they know each other? My mom and I were close, so I met a lot of her friends, but I never heard her mention a man before.
But I remember the sadness in his eyes and the pain he was feeling. If they knew each other, they must’ve been close for him to have a reaction like that.
The more vivid these dreams become, the more I’m starting to realize that I must’ve suppressed a lot of memories from that night, hiding them away in the deepest part of my mind, never to see the light of day again.
But why now? Why after all these years am I starting to remember the details of what I saw? It just doesn’t make sense. None of this makes sense.
