Page 121 of The Dearly Departed

“Blood.” Her face contorted like the air was suddenly pungent. “Have him strip down and get cleaned up before he goes upstairs.”

Her eyes once again frisked over the length of my body before she, too, moved along into the house, and I knew she’d be waiting in the guest room for me. I knew she’d point a gun at me until I did as she’d said—I always did. It was the same game she always played, and she always won. Self-preservation was becoming more exhausting by the day, but she knew as well as I did that I didn’t have a choice.

Gerald nudged his head toward the doorway and said, “You heard her. When you’re finished, meet me in my office to collect your payment.”

I clenched my jaw, anger coursing through my veins, but still, I gave him a curt nod and muttered a tight, “Yes, sir.”

Then I went inside, my feet moving as if they were made of lead, knowing my night was far from over, and when it inevitably was, the sun would rise with the shattering of what little was left of my heart.

***

"Big day tomorrow," Gerald announced jovially as I entered his office.

I was freshly showered and in a brand-new suit and gloves, but the cleanliness didn’t stretch skin deep. I could still feel Virginia’s body on mine, and although I was grateful she hadn’t yet forced my mask off, somehow, I imagined I could taste her through the rubber, as if she’d embedded herself into my flesh.

It made me feel sick.

Everything these days did.

“Yes, I know,” I muttered, unamused and depressed, closing the door and locking it behind me.

"Will you be attending?" Gerald asked, glancing my way.

"No,” I answered without hesitation.

He didn't look at all pleased with that response as I sat across from him and pulled the mask off, grateful for the fresh air on my skin.

"You seriously aren't gonna come to your stepsister's wedding?"

I huffed a bitter chuckle. "She’s not my stepsister."

“Uh … well, actually, yes, she is,” he argued, leaning back. “I married her mother, and you are my son. So, by law, you are stepsiblings. Why the hell don’t you understand that?”

“Well, she isn’t aware of that relation, is she?” I murmured, dragging a hand through my damp hair.

"Hmm …" He sniffed a bit, nodding as he crossed his ankle over his thigh. "This is true. But I don't think that's why you're not coming."

I glanced up at him, entirely unamused with his smirking face. "Oh? Well, Gerald, since you seem to know so much, why don't you tell me why I'm not attending a wedding full of people I don't know?"

He was laughing now, a full-on belly laugh that made his cheeks red and his eyes crinkle at the corners. He slipped his shiny black shoes off as he looked up at me, mirth glinting in his blue irises.

"You don’t wanna watch her sell her soul to a man who isn’t you," he guessed, his brows waggling. "Am I right? Your dead little heart wouldn't be able to handle it."

I said nothing for a moment, but it was that very silence that gave me away.

"Ah, my poor boy," he said, standing. "Fell for the wrong girl, but, hey, that’s all right. Happens to the best of us. You’ll get over it."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, trying to keep my anger under control while my heart thumped wildly in my chest. “I didn’t fall for—"

"It’s all right, kiddo. I already know."

Then he reached beside him and produced a folder, much like the one he’d given me years ago right after Leonard died. He leaned forward and nudged it in my direction as he said, “Go on, take it.”

I reached out hesitantly. “What the hell is this now?”

He shrugged as I grasped the folder. “You’ll have to open it up and see.”

My hands were still as I flipped it open, though the fear thrummed violently within my veins. And then I was looking down at the image of me standing in Analise’s bedroom, mere feet from where she sat on her bed. My breathing escalated, my lungs working overtime as I seethed with red-hot fury.