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“If I’m even still alive then,” she murmured to herself, gazing dully at her destination.
It had taken her several bus rides and two days of travel to make it to Abernathy’s house, as well as two hours to make it to the top of the hill where the cursed house stood. The incline was steep, but it was made more difficult by the three panic attacks she’d experienced in quick succession. She was forced to drop to all fours, battling her dimming vision and the sensation of an anvil resting on her chest, all the while reminding herself to breathe. But she had made it. The question was: what did she do now that she was here?
Presently, the familiar sounds of crying reached her, and Angela cringed. She wanted to curl into a ball and cover her ears. But that never kept the sounds at bay. Because those sounds penetrated deeper than her ears; they were in her mind—in her very soul. So, she forced herself to follow the cries. She was careful, moving stealthily between the tall, established trees on the large estate as she approached. When she reached the rear of the house, the sight before her broke her heart.
The pain-filled sobs were coming from two girls that looked to be younger than Angela’s nearly eighteen years. They were naked and washing themselves with a garden hose. Angela knew from experience that the water would be ice cold and make the cuts and bruises feel worse instead of better. There was a man nearby, leering at them, taunting and belittling them with his words. As if they needed to feel more used and insignificant than she knew they already did.
Her hand was on the rock, and she was moving forward before her brain caught up with her body. But when she registered what was about to happen, her trajectory didn’t change.
The first blow from the rock didn’t knock the man over. But it did cause him to wobble and turn towards her. Angela swung the rock again before he could launch a defense, and this time, his back hit the ground with a thud. He tried to protect his face and head with his arms, but her rage, now fully unleashed, was stronger. She bludgeoned the unknown man over and over, taking no notice of the warm blood landing on her face, arms, and clothes.
Her arm grew tired, and she was breathless by the time she stopped. The man lay unmoving, but that was likely to be expected when one had no face. Angela realized in a detached kind of way that she had just taken the life of a human being. She wondered why she didn’t care.
Whimpering drew her attention to the two girls. They were watching her cautiously, but thankfully, without fear. The last thing Angela wanted to do was scare them more than they already had been. “I won’t hurt you,” she promised them.
The girl with the bright-red hair wrapped her arms around her naked, shivering form. “Is he dead?”
“Very,” Angela assured her.
The girl nodded shakily. “Good.”
“You should go,” Angela urged.
The other victim scrubbed the tears from her dark skin. “Go where?”
“Anywhere,” she replied quickly. “Here, take this. It has a couple of changes of clothes, some toiletries, and some cash.” She tossed her backpack at them before they could say anything. “You won’t want to be here for the next part.”
The redhead snatched up the bag, but she was frowning. “Who are you?”
“I’m nobody. Just like you. Now go!” she yelled. “Get out of here.”
Thankfully, they didn’t need to be told a third time, holding hands as they sprinted down the hill. Angela watched them until they were out of sight before looking down at the man she had killed. She waited for the regret to hit. Maybe some sickness. But it didn’t come. Instead, more rage bubbled up. She wanted to scream and shout, but that would attract attention. So she kicked the lifeless body a few times before her higher reasoning came back online.
Bending over, she rifled through the guy’s pockets, looking for a gun. She had the crazy idea to go inside and shoot every motherfucker who had touched her in the past. And then she would turn the gun on herself.
Yeah, go out in a blaze of glory, she thought. But when she found a lighter instead, a new idea hit.
“I won’t be the one to go out in a blaze of glory,” she muttered, squeezing the lighter tightly. She looked at the house, remembering the personal gas pump Abernathy had. “But they will.”
CHAPTER ONE
Roman raced down the corridor. Colt had just barged into his office, saying Angela needed him. His heart was beating wildly, and it didn’t slow when he saw his lover sitting on the floor with her arms wrapped around herself.
“What the fuck happened?” he demanded of Colt.
“I don’t know. She went crazy pale and started backing away. I came to get you straight away,” Colt explained.
Roman dropped down in front of Angela, reaching for her. He was shocked when she practically jumped out of her skin. “Angel...”
She raised her head, looking him in the eyes, and his stomach dropped. He had seen many expressions on Angela’s face since their first meeting: anger, disdain, hurt, indifference. But there was one look he had never seen before. Not until this very moment.
Fear.
The love of his life was looking at him in terror, and it hurt like nothing in his life ever had. He swallowed hard. “Mio angelo... what happened?”
Angela’s wide green eyes flicked to the elevator. “That man...”
Roman looked around, unsure whom she meant. He looked up when Colt cleared his throat. “Explain,” he bit out.
