Page 72 of Shai

I didn’t bother to answer him. I’d had little time for Gustav since my return from McIntyre’s compound, my attention focused solely on Shai. Gustav could run squealing to Shai if he wanted, but it would be too late. Returning back the way I’d come, I headed to the top of the building. Shai’s mother was the only one who had a room on that floor. I’d thought it strange at first that she was so set apart, and had to navigate an extra flight of stairs at her age. Now, I assumed that was the point. Shai might not be able to kill her, but if she happened to fall down the stairs, the problem would be solved for him.

Well, now I was going to solve the problem for him. I paused with my

foot on the first stair that led up to her room, my fingers clammy around the handle of the knife. I waited for a pang of self-doubt to hit, some sort of recognition of the wrongness of the act I was about to commit. But although my heart was pounding, it was due to nothing but adrenaline. Where self-recrimination and guilt might once have lived, there was nothing but a huge, gaping chasm.

I started to climb, each step taking me closer to my target, closer to the

freedom I would gift to Shai. At the top of the stairs, I turned left, bypassing a number of empty rooms until I reached the door at the end. I lifted my hand and placed it against the wood, closing my eyes and visualizing what would come next, a buzz of something akin to excitement sparking inside my gut. What if it was locked? I gave the door an experimental shove to evaluate its sturdiness. Could I break it down if need be? Possibly. It would create more noise that I would have liked, though.

Trailing my hand down the wood, I grasped hold of the handle. One

press and the door swung open. Despite the time of day, the room was shrouded in darkness, black-out curtains hanging at the window preventing much light from spilling into it. It was decorated much the same as the other rooms in the compound, with ostentatious furniture, numerous ornaments, and a huge four-poster bed at its center. It was to the latter that I turned my attention, in particular to the body-shaped lump at its center.

My feet were silent on the thick carpet as I moved to stand at the side of

the bed, staring down at the sleeping woman on her back. She looked younger in sleep, her features far more relaxed. I hoisted the knife higher and angled the blade. It would almost be too easy—one slash and it would be done. Bloody, but quick. She’d never even know who’d done it. I let the knife slip from my hand to drop harmlessly to the carpet.

Using slow and deliberate movements, I climbed onto the bed,

maneuvering myself until I straddled her, but without putting any weight on her. She slept on. My gaze slid to the pillow on the other side of the bed. Suffocation? But then I’d be back to that same issue of her remaining blissfully unaware of who had done the deed. I wanted her to know it was me. It was a dizzying realization, but one far too strong to ignore. That only left one viable option.

Lowering my weight enough to pin the frail body securely to the bed, I

slid my hands loosely around her neck. The position reminded me of Shai, his strength always far greater than mine when he straddled me—a display of dominance if ever there was one. Was that why I wanted to do it this way? Was it a case of the student becoming the teacher?

Her eyelids fluttered open, the brown eyes that met mine so reminiscent of Shai’s own that it was jarring. She blinked up at me, my slack grip providing her plenty of opportunity to speak. “What do you want?”

The question was so absurd that I had to tamp down on the urge to laugh. What did she think I wanted? Although, given the way her mind worked, she probably thought I was there to have my wicked way with her. She didn’t need to worry on that score. I would rather stick my cock in a blender.

I tightened my fingers, the wrinkled skin beneath my fingertips so fragile. A realization dawned in her eyes and I drank in her emotions. They were all there—fear, resignation, regret. Gnarled hands lifted from the bed to cover mine. Not fighting. Not yet. Just testing the firmness of my grip. “Why?”

Why? I did laugh then, the sound alien in the dark and silent room. “You fucked me when I couldn’t do anything about it. You made a show out of me that I never agreed to. Isn’t that reason enough?”

Her brow furrowed, the already rapid pulse beating faster through the paper-thin skin. “You were going to die.”

“But I didn’t.” I almost spat the words out. I wasn’t being entirely honest, though, was I? And this felt like a moment that deserved honesty. “You upset Shai. You prevent him from being happy, and I want him to be happy. You’re a constant reminder of a childhood he has no wish to remember.” I gave free rein to the sneer fighting to be set free. “The things you did to him were sick and twisted. Everything he is today, anything dark that’s within him, you put it there. You and your madness, and your sexual depravity.”

Footsteps sounded on the stairs. Footsteps and voices. I glanced toward the door I’d left open. Rookie mistake. If I’d locked it, the rescue party would have been delayed while they had to locate a key or break it down. It didn’t matter. I didn’t need long. Focusing on Shai’s mother, I brought my hands closer together and squeezed.

Nails clawed at my hands, one or two drawing blood in the process. “I… never… touched… him.”

They were the only words she managed to get out before a need for

oxygen took precedence, her body writhing beneath mine and her eyes bulging obscenely in her face. She was stronger than I’d expected, her will to survive infusing her with an animalistic streak. I hung on, my gaze fixed on her face as the life slowly drained out of her, her features going slack. I kept squeezing, the footsteps right outside the door.

When I was dragged from the bed, I didn’t bother to resist. There was

no point when the job was already done. There were four men, Grayson’s forearm tight against my neck as he held me in a chokehold that I had no chance of escaping. Any tighter and he’d be dispatching me in the same way as I had Shai’s mother.

Taylor and Wyatt took up places on opposite sides of the bed, Taylor’s

face the picture of concern as he felt for a pulse, shaking his head at Wyatt when he didn’t find one. What followed was a fruitless effort to revive the old woman, Taylor and Wyatt working together to perform CPR on her inert form. After a ten-minute attempt that hadn’t produced so much as a spark of life, Taylor finally stood back. He stared at the corpse before turning his gaze on me, confusion and sadness swirling in his eyes. “She was just an old woman.”

I didn’t bother to correct his assumption. He’d been in the room with

Shai and me when the truth had spilled from her lips. Had he not heard it? He’d been a distance away so it was possible. When it came down to it, it was Shai’s secret, not mine. If Shai didn’t want his men to know the truth, then it wasn’t my place to alter that.

Wyatt bent over to pluck the knife from the carpet. “What shall we do