Page 101 of Intrepid

He’d killed that man, and after having seen the sketch, even slightly off in its features, there was no doubt in my mind. I glanced up to Ty’s apartment, dark and quiet, as if nobody were home, which had my eyes flickering to his bike.

My head battled back and forth as I sat, contemplating my options.

Should I go up there?

No, you idiot. He’s a murderer.

Maybe he committed suicide. He looked pretty shaken after he left the apartment.

Of course he did, he probably wanted to kill you!

All the conversations I’d had with him flooded my head in a mishmash of lies and truth.

The one thought most troubling of all, though: had he been using me from the beginning?

A click beside me startled my muscles, and I let out a squeal when the passenger door flew open. Like an ass, I pressed the lock seconds too late, and Ty plopped down onto the seat beside me.

Every nerve in my body flared, and I reached for the door handle, mentally preparing my muscles for the run of my life. Literally.

“You’re a horrible stakeout.” His comment might’ve been funny, if I didn’t happen to be holding back a bladder full of pee. “So, why’re you here? The money?”

“Y-y-you left it?”

“C’mon, Sera.” His cheeks dimpled with a smile, as he rubbed his hands in his lap. “You’re smarter than that. You know I did. That’s why you’re here. I’m certain you’ve figured everything out by now.”

“Your name isn’t Ty. You … you lied about that. It’s Jameson. Jameson Cross.”

“Tyler is my middle name. So, not a total lie.”

“You … k-k-killed that man. In the wood chipper.”

“Yeah. That was me.” He sniffed, still rubbing his hands, and kept his gaze from mine. “You ever hear the sound of someone truly suffering? Not the shit on TV, or some fucking teenage sob story. I mean real human misery.”

My finger curled around the door handle, trying not to make a spectacle as I took hold of it, readying myself.

“The worst sound I ever heard was just before those bastards shot Eli.”

“Bastard? The one you killed?”

“The three I killed.”

Dear God, he’d killed three men, probably all of them, if I had to guess, as horrific as the wood chipper incident. I swallowed a harsh gulp, slowly scooting myself away from him, in the event he tried to grab me as I escaped.

“They cut out his tongue, so he couldn’t talk. All I heard all night was his pain-filled moans. And for his sake, I’d hoped they’d end it.” His jaw clenched, and he expelled a harsh breath, like he was holding back tears. Bending forward, he rubbed his skull, his whole body shaking. “He was my brother. Only one I had. And those cocksuckers tortured him to death.”

My blood froze, every muscle locked up in a state of shock, as the weight of his words settled over me. For a moment, I was fifteen years old again, watching the man who’d abducted me break down, minutes before he’d blown his brains out. When he’d told me everything like it was his last confession.

I’d felt guilty for years after, haunted by his monstrous face, wishing I’d said something to keep him from killing himself. Something that might’ve urged him to get help.

“They deserved it, then.”

Ty lifted his head, a humorless darkness swimming behind his eyes. “You believe that?”

“I loved him, too.” The sting in my eyes fizzled to a watery mist, and with a trembling hand, I reached over to him, searching for his.

Ty leaned toward me, both hands gripping either side of my face, and rested his forehead to mine. His shaky breaths beating down on my face carried an edge of desperation. “I want you to know, Sera. I would never hurt you. Not in a million years.”

I nodded, gripping to his wrists at either side of me. “I know.”