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Rage blinded and gripped me, igniting an inferno inside me as he confessed how he terrorized and abused her. The son of a bitch had hurt Ari for three years. He was a fucking monster. My reflexes kicked in, and I grabbed the bastard by the throat and squeezed.
“My dick gets hard when I torture someone. I come from a long line of fucked-up men. You, Peter, picked the wrong motherfucker to mess with.”
His cheeks burned bright red as he gasped for the air that I refused to give him. Peter’s eyes began to glaze over, and I finally released him. I wanted to play with my prey for a while longer.
“I had hoped not to have to go this route because it’s just . . .” I shrugged while he sucked in a lungful of air. “How do I say this? I’m getting bored with your bullshit. I’ve had to learn to read people for years. That skill meant I got to live another day, and you, Peter, are fucking lying to me.
“Recreational time is over.” I gripped his bicep and pointed my weapon to the bed.
“You’re going to tie me down already?” His voice was whiny and stomped on my last nerve.
“Seems you don’t want to cooperate, so down you go.”
He hesitated, and I released the safety on the gun. “Right or left knee?”
Terror twisted his expression, and he hobbled back to the table and lay down while still holding his water.
After I strapped him down, I asked him again. “Who is Phoebe?”
“I told you already! She’s my girlfriend.”
“Was. Not only am I in her life now, but she clearly said to your face that she’d moved across the country to get away from you. That’s a drastic move, which tells me that you were hurting her.”
“She’s mine to do anything I want to with.” He snorted, and I shook my head at his stupidity.
I reached for the tray above the table and picked up a pair of rusty pliers. Holding his index finger, I grinned at him. He was too weak to fight me. “This will hurt, Peter.”
He started to scream even before I ripped the fingernail from its tender skin. “Who knew a fingernail could cause so much pain.” I chuckled as tears streamed down his face.
“That’s for touching Phoebe. You got a little rough with her against her will when you showed up uninvited to the party.” I leaned closer, our noses only a few inches away from each other’s. “I’m the only one on this fucking planet that can get rough with her. I claimed her tight cunt when we were teenagers. She has always been mine, and now I’m back to take her from you.” I grabbed his middle finger, ready to pull the next nail.
“Stop! No! I’ll tell you what you want to know!”
ChapterFifteen
Phoebe
“I’m so happy to be home.” I fluffed the pillows on my bed before I crawled under the blankets.
“Me too, and now that we have privacy without the nurses and doctors fussing over you, we need to have that talk.”
Teagan and I had changed into our pajamas early. Even though my head was fine, I was still mentally and emotionally exhausted from the fight with Peter. The fact that he was in town terrified me, not only for my safety but for Teagan and the other girls as well. I lived with them. I was so relieved to be with them again; it never occurred to me that Peter would follow me across the country.
“I’m so sorry.” My words came out breathy while I struggled to put a damper on my anxiety.
Teagan sat cross-legged on my bed and turned to me. “Let’s get this over with and figure out what to do, Phoebe. I gave you my word that I would take your secret to the grave with me.”
She says that now, but . . . Bracing myself to lose my best friends and serve time in prison, I reached deep inside myself for the necessary courage.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I chewed on my thumbnail. “I killed someone,” I blurted.
Teagan stared at me like I had six boobs and a green head.
“It was an accident . . . kind of.”
She blinked at me, her disbelief and shock processing on her face. “Kind of?” The pitch of her voice spiked, and I cringed.
“The fire.” Tears pricked my eyes, and I had to look away from her. It was too much to bear. “I set it.”
