Page 138 of House of Lies

“Do I seriously have to explain that to you?” he asks, frowning slightly as he tilts his head to the side. My mind works feverishly, but it’s hard trying to think through the headache pounding away at my temples. I’m pretty sure I have a concussion.

“You’ve always been smarter than me,” I tell him, loathe to state such a blatant lie, but hoping it will make him let down his guard. “Guess you’ll have to spell it out.”

Angelo giggles, eyes sparkling. “Thought as much.”

Something about him is off. Like way, way off.

I’ve seen him coked up, buzzed, stoned, and drunk. And it has nothing on what I’m seeing right now. It’s like he’s on a different plane of existence. Maybe he dropped acid.

Christ.

We’re both fucked if we’re dealing with a lunatic on LSD.

He stands so quickly I flinch, expecting a bullet in the head or another boot in my kidneys. But he turns around and walks over to Cassidy, grabbing her hair and wrenching her head to the side.

I force myself to watch, even though I want nothing more than to close my eyes and wipe out the sight of her suffering.

She’s here because of me.

If I could be in her place, I’d swap with her in an instant. Since that’s not an option, I’ll witness every moment of her fear and torment.

I vow, in this life or the next, to avenge her for her suffering.

“I’m not going to kill you.” He drags the muzzle down Cassidy’s cheek, and she stares desperately over to me like she’s begging me to make it stop.

And God, I’d give my life right here and now if I could make that happen.

“That would be murder.” He presses the muzzle into Cassidy’s cleavage, and starts sliding it in and out.

I clench my teeth, working furiously at the hands behind my back to break free, but there’s no give in the ropes. He wanted to make sure I’d be powerless to watch him torturing my girl.

“What then?” I ask roughly.

Angelo’s smile chills me to the fucking bone, but when he slides his gun down and slips it under Cassidy’s skirt, lava starts pumping through my veins.

“Stop! Just tell me what the fuck you want!”

“I want everyone to know Cassidy wasn’t your first victim.”

First victim?

“No.” The word is as cold and hard as the floor I’m lying on.

Angelo’s smile widens. “Now you’re getting it.”

He turns away from Cassidy, ambling over to an old cabinet where I kept some of my lower-value gems. But it’s not the stones he’s after. There’s a trunk beside it. I stored some of Becks’s coat and purses inside it when I took her clothing out of the manor.

“I’m actually surprised at how well preserved she is. I thought she’d just be a skeleton by now,” he says as he reaches inside the trunk.

My chest is as tight as the ropes around my wrists and ankles, but somehow my heart finds enough space to pound.

“Huh? Doesn’t look too bad, does she?” Angelo holds out his arm, a desiccated head dangling from his fingers. Tangled, matted brown hair and shrunken eyes render the skull almost unrecognizable.

Almost.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Cassidy screams frantically through her gag as he walks over to her and holds the head beside hers.

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