Page 124 of Never Tear Us Apart

With both hands flying, I claw at his arms and face, anything I can reach. “Fuck!” He shouts when I bring my nails down his cheek. “You’re going to pay for that.”

He backhands me and pain shoots down my jaw and light flashes behind my eyes. I reach for my face, and he grabs my wrists with both hands, pinning my arms on either side of my head.

“Fuck you!” I fight to get out of his hold.

“Oh, you will,” he laughs, while pressing my arms down into the sand.

“I’m not going to touch you Royce, ever!”

“Well, you don’t have a choice, Ellery, because you’re mine, and I am going to take what belongs to me, whether you like it or not.”

“You’re sick.”

“Oh, you want to talk about sick, huh?” He leans in, gripping my wrists harder. “How about siblings that are fucking right under their parents’ noses?”

“Good question,” I fire back. “Why don’t you ask Courtney and Dex?”

“Touche,” he laughs, which stuns me because it’s not a denial. “But really, who are you to throw stones? To be honest, I’m not judging. We all have those itches we need to scratch. But I do resent that it ishimyou chose to scratch it. But that no longer matters. Now that you’re mine, that shit is over.”

“Yours?” I spit out. “Never in your wildest dreams, Royce.”

“I don’t have to dream about it, Ellery. It was a promise made in blood, and you will honor it.”

I start kicking my legs again, trying to get him off me, but the harder I kick, the tighter his grip gets.

“Fight it all you want, Ellery, but just so you know, it only turns me on. Just like the screams of those townie whores when I choked the life out of them. Makes my dick hard just thinking about it.”

Realizing what he’s just confessed, my eyes widen. “It was you?”

“Trash is trash,” he says callously. “Someone had to take it out.”

A sob bubbles up in my throat as I think about those poor girls. Friends, daughters, and sisters with hopes and dreams and their whole lives ahead of them.

“But why?” I choke out.

“The answer is simple,” he shrugs. “I did it for you.”

“Me?” I repeat in horror.

“Mistaken identity. Turns out they weren’t who we were looking for.”

“You’re crazy!” I scream.

“I am not crazy.” He gives me a cold smile. “I call it strategic.”

“Strategy doesn’t kill innocent girls, Royce. Lunatics do!”

“No see, that’s where you’re wrong.” He tightens his hold even more, pain shooting down my arm. “But if you want to point fingers, then you should point them at your father.” My eyes widen and he laughs. “That’s right, princess. He is the one who got those girls killed when the breadcrumbs he dropped led us to them and not you.”

“That’s not possible.” I shake my head. “He’s been dead for years.”

“Hmm,” he considers the point. “Yes, he has. But his work began long before his death.”

“What are you talking about? My father—”

“Was loyal,” he cuts me off. “I will give him that. He served our society and did whatever needed to be done, just as he swore he would. But something funny happened the year before he died. He became reserved. Removed, even, because he was focused on secrets instead of service. If only your fatherdidhave a hooker and cocaine addiction, then it would make his actions more understandable. But the truth was, he was up to something much more dangerous and it got him killed.”

As I stare into Royce’s cold, dark eyes, the truth I have been searching for, finally comes out.

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