Page 78 of Fractured Hearts

“Oh. They’re . . . beautiful?” I tell him when I realize he’s waiting for a reaction from me. This is definitely not the room to piss him off in. He makes his way down the first wall, introducing me to Sandra, Mary, Tina, and Angela. The back wall is made up of swords that I usually only see at Renaissance fairs. They’re all named Jessica for some reason. I’m not stupid enough to question it. Just oohing and aahing in the correct spots.

“This one,” Patrick says, choking up. “This one is my baby. She’s been with me through it all.” He holds up the most basic knife my mind could have conjured. It has a worn wooden handle and a blade that’s about as long as my middle finger. I think if I looked up the word “knife,” this is the picture it would show me. All the others had intricate handles or fancy carvings on the blades. This one is the kind every dad has in their tackle box.

“What’s her name?” I ask because I can’t help myself.

“Pamela.”

“Why is she your favorite?” I don’t want to know the answer, but the man is cuddling the thing to his face like it’s a puppy and staring me down. It’s pretty clear he wants to have a conversation, and by the smile that breaks out on his face at the question, I’m at least doing a good job of it.

“She was my first,” he says, but his smile quickly disappears. “Well, she was one of my firsts.”

“Did something happen?” I ask after another awkward pause with him just staring at me and waiting.

“She had a twin, too. Her name was Erica, but I lost her that night.” Patrick is crying. Over a knife. I have no idea what to do that won’t have him using Pamela to slit my throat.

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.” I manage to keep my voice even, but everything he said yesterday comes rushing back.

That night.

It was all because of him.

He made everything happen.

“You knew you had Gianna in that barn,” I blurt. “You knew she wasn’t Noelle.”

“Of course I knew!” Patrick screams, getting far too close to my face with Pamela. “Eva was going to marry you off to her! Said I could have you whenever I wanted on the side. I’m no one’s side piece!”

He literally started everything. Gianna’s murder and Ezra’s witnessing of it led to this, to now. While I never underestimated Patrick’s ability to murder, I’ve severely underestimated his IQ. We’ve been assuming that Patrick has been able to get away with everything because Eva had money, power, and influence. And while I’m sure that was a huge part of it, Patrick is clever all on his own.

“How did you find me?”

“You bought a fucking television with your credit card. It’s like you wanted me to find you. I planted pictures of Jo everywhere, thinking your people would surround her and leave you vulnerable. Turns out I didn’t give them enough credit.” Patrick smiles, running the dull side of Pamela down my cheek. “You wanted me to find you, didn’t you, doll?”

Fuck! The television. I wasn’t even thinking. I was just in a happy bubble with Jo and Ezra. Who are potentially still locked in the basement. If they’re even alive. I swallow around the lump in my throat at the thought of them being gone.

“Where are Ezra and Jo?” I ask, ignoring him. I need to know. If they’re gone from this Earth, then I want to go with them. There’s nothing left for me here without them.

“You’ll never see them again,” Patrick growls in my face. Pain flares in my temple, and I feel the familiar pull of being knocked unconscious.

Fucking Pamela.

eighty-three

EZRA

“You ready?” I ask Kai. We’ve been sitting in silence the entire drive back to our childhood home. Kai is sitting in the backseat with Belle and hasn’t stopped scowling out the window. Jo is in the front with me, and I keep catching her sharing worried glances with Belle. I get it. Our mom has been awful to Kai since I disappeared, and our dad came with me. I didn’t know about that until this morning when Kai told me what to expect when we got there. I’m having a really hard time aligning the woman I remember with who Kai described.

“No,” Kai grumbles. I don’t think I am either. I thought I was until I pull onto the street and our old house comes into view.

“Whose car is that?” Belle asks.

“Shit,” I mutter, pulling into the driveway and parking next to the black sedan. “Dad’s here.” This is just what I need. I already spent two hours at the police station explaining how I got into that bunker in the first place. Which would be that I don’t know. They also wanted me to ID Noelle, but I told them I didn’t know who she was and that she was there when I got there. They didn’t like that answer, but that’s all they were getting, and they knew it.

“What?” Kai barks, sitting straight up in the seat. I watch him in the rearview mirror as he tries to decide if he wants to go inside and confront our parents or flee.

“Let’s go,” Belle says gently, squeezing his hand before getting out. Kai closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before following her.

“Ready to meet the parents?” I try to joke, but it falls flat. Jo smiles before leaning over and kissing me. I still can’t believe it’s something I get to do. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to having her and Maverick.