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Shelooks into my eyes, seeing the sincerity there. “Why?”
“Becauseyou’re mine now.”
Ibegin to gently wipe the blood off her skin, working my way over her arms, down her stomach.There’sa softness in my movements, but underneath it all,Ican’t believe it’s real.What’sshocking is thatIremember everything—every detailIburied, every connectionImissed.Allthis time, it wasn’t just about theWhitmores.
WhenI’mdone cleaning her up,Ihelp her slip her shirt back on, the fabric sticking slightly to her skin where the blood splattered.Thered stains contrast deeply with her skin, but it doesn’t make her any less beautiful.Ifanything, it makes her look stronger.
Istand, grabbing my own clothes from the floor and tugging them on, piece by piece.Mybody aches from the fight, but my mind is sharper than it has ever been.
Shewatches me asIdress, her brow furrowing slightly. “So, what’s the plan?”
Ipull my shirt over my head and sit beside her, leaning in close enough to feel her warmth again. “Wego after them—onourterms this time.Andwe make sure they never hurt anyone again.There’sno way we let those motherfuckers tear us down.”
Herlips curl into a determined smile. “I’mready.”
Wespend the next few minutes devising a plan of action and decide to leave the security of my old bedroom.Thisroom is tucked away in an area of the mansion off-limits to everyone but the family, which explains why no one has come looking for us yet.Eventually, though, they’ll realize we’re not just hiding and come for us.
Butinstead of fleeing or finding another place to hide, we’re going to findthemand teach them a lesson they’ll never forget.We’vehad enough of theWhitmoresthinking they can own us, control us, and do whatever they please.
Whenwe’ve finally gathered ourselves, we slip out of the bedroom quietly,Valeriaclose behind me.Ourfootsteps arebarely audible as we move down the dim hallway.Wehave my knife and her kubotan, but we need better weapons if we’re going to succeed.
Aswe make our way down the corridor, the memories drift back to me, the architecture of the mansion triggering old thoughts. “Iremember this hallway,”Imurmur.Thewalls look familiar, the faded patterns of the wallpaper. “Thereare swords on one of these walls,I’msure of it.”
Wekeep walking until the passage splits in two directions. “Thisway.”Ilead her to the right, my instincts kicking in—and there they are, hanging on the wall like artifacts, just asIremembered.
“Bingo.”Itake two down, handing one toValeria.Sheholds it like she was born for this, the steel glinting as she swings it over her shoulder.Thefierce determination in her eyes is intoxicating.
“Fuck,Val,”Igroan quietly. “It’staking everything in me not to shove the handle of that sword up your sweet cunt right now.”
Valeriagrins, that familiar fire in her gaze. “Anothertime,” she teases, her voice a sultry whisper that makes my pulse race.
Butnow is not the time for distractions.Wereach the end of the second floor and find the stairwell.
“Iknow exactly where they’ll be.”
“Inthe basement?”Valeriaasks, her voice tense.
Inod. “Yeah, where we first met.They’llbe down there, performing that ritual.”Thethought of it makes my skin crawl, the memory of that room flickering through my mind.
Valeriashivers beside me, but she grips the sword tighter. “We’llbarge in and stop them.Nomore sacrifices, no more hiding.We’llend this.”
Whenwe reach the basement,Valeriawhistles softly beside me. “Thesemonitors are just as creepy as they were the first time.”
“Yeah,”Iagree. “WhenIfollowed you down here, the space felt oddly familiar.Ifigured it was just becauseIspend so much time in front of screens.”
Valeria’sbrow furrows. “Oh, right.Whenyou spent hoursstalkingme?”Shemoves past me, butIgrab a handful of her hair, pulling her body flush against mine as she hisses from the strain.
“Yes,stalkingyou.Youmight see it as an invasion of privacy, but deep down,Iknow you get a twisted thrill knowing someone had eyes on you, especially when you were alone, humping your pillows like a filthy fucking girl.”Itug harder on her hair. “I’llnever stop watching you, butterfly.Notin this lifetime.”
Shegasps asIrelease her, andIsavor the distress in her eyes.
“You’rea psychopath,” she says, butIjust laugh.
“Theroom is down this hall,”Isay, pointing ahead. “We’llhave to be quiet to avoid drawing attention.”
“Wait.WhataboutIsabel?”Valeriaasks, stopping abruptly and pulling out her phone. “Stillnothing,” she says, showing me the screen.
“Let’scheck the cameras.Ifshe’s still in the house, she’ll show up on one of these monitors.”
