Page 90 of Savagely Scarred

Roberts sighs through the phone. “Okay. Look, the Commissioner just called me with an update. There was another body found in Central Park this time. Except this one was different from the others.”

I lean forward, the seatbelt pulling taunt. “How?”

Roberts continues, “This one was found without clothing from the waist down. She was sexually assaulted.”

“Could it just be a rape victim? How do we know it’s the same serial killer?” Sage questions.

“She was left in the same pose as the others. They ran a DNA test…” Roberts trails off.

My heart rate picks up and I stare at Sage. He’s facing forward, both hands gripping the steering wheel tight enough to break it. It’s pouring now, the rain coming down in sheets. The roar in my ears snuffs out the drumming of the wipers.

“It came back a match for Kyle.”

“Jesus Christ,” Sage murmurs.

“They’re going back and testing the other bodies,” Roberts assures.

Bodies. They’re no longer women breathing and walking around. They’re just an object now taking up space, waiting to be put into the dirt. Women who don’t get the chance to carry out their dreams, to laugh, to feel joy or sadness. All because of me.

“This doesn’t make any sense. Why defer from the others now?” Sage slows the car at a stop sign, looking left and right before pulling out.

“I think—,”

My head cracks the side of the window when I’m jolted into it. The world outside the car twirls like a kaleidoscope as the car rolls side to side down the road. The airbags deploy and my ears ring, drowning out my screams. The windows explode, sending glass shards flying in every direction.

The car finally comes to a halt upside down. I struggle to turn my head, pain shooting up my neck. Sage is hanging from his seatbelt, his arms dangling towards the roof.

“Sage,” I croak.

I fumble around and unlatch my belt, dropping my body to a bed of shattered glass. I hiss through the pain and reach for him. He’s unconscious but he’s still breathing. Blood drips from a cut above his right eye. Sadie whimpers from the back of the car.

“Sage!” I shout tapping his cheek. “Please wake up.”

He groans and his eyelashes flutter. I sigh with relief that doesn’t last. My body collapses when my leg is pulled from behind me. I try to grab onto the headrest, but my fingers slip and I’m dragged through the window.

“WILL!!!” I scream, clawing at the asphalt.

Pain explodes across the back of my skull.

And then everything goes black.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Kyle

My head pounds with the force of a jackhammer, chipping away at the inside of my skull. I force my eyes open and close them again because the light feels like it’s burning my retinas. Groaning, I roll onto my stomach and push myself up from the concrete floor.

My gaze floats through the vast empty warehouse, scanning the metal beams running across the ceiling. Exposed electrical and duct work weave between them like a maze.

The wall across from me has giant murals leaning against it. In the corner, stacks of chairs clutter the space. This looks like one of the pier warehouses they rent out for events. Everything has a small film of dust from being discarded and forgotten.

I slowly stand, trying not to pass out again. I don’t even remember coming here in the first place. Everything is a blur and I struggle to pull memories from my mind.

My steps echo as I walk out of the room and down a narrow, empty hall. Multiple rooms branch off from doorways on both sides. Some are completely void of life and barren, and others are filled to the brim, acting like storage spaces.

The last room, however, isn’t empty at all. I stop in the doorway, balling my fists at my sides. In the center of the room are two wooden chairs. They sit adjacent to each other, a few feet apart. And sitting in them is William Sage and my wife.

I walk into the room to get closer to them. Their heads droop, chin to chest, clearly unconscious. Their wrists are bound to the arms of the chairs with zip ties. An upgrade from the rope I had used on Olivia when she escaped.