Page 150 of House of Lies

A wave of nausea rolls through me.

Cassidy just stands there, knife dangling at her side.

“Mommy didn’t fight like Becks had,” he whispers as he turns his attention to Cassidy.

“When I told her she could go back home to her little girl, she did whatever the fuck I wanted.”

Chapter 61

Cassidy

I never thought I’d ever experience such a torrent of emotions as I did when I woke up in the crypt with Angelo. But all that terror and pain doesn’t even hold a candle to what’s happening inside my mind right now.

Molten fury roars inside me like a furnace.

He sounds so fucking pleased with himself when he adds, “She kept me so warm and toasty. Even the stink of her burning flesh was worth it.”

I’m so disgusted, so hateful of this man sitting in front of me, I wish I had the power to make him spontaneously combust.

Then I remember the knife.

I don’t hesitate. Why should I? He didn’t.

“Fuck. You!” I scream at the top of my lungs.

I lunge forward and drive the knife into Angelo’s gut. It slides in with barely any resistance until it hits something deep inside him. My wrist twists painfully to the side, but it’s as if it’s happening to someone else.

“Cassidy.” Ethan’s voice is hushed.

He grabs my shoulder, but I shake him off with a barked, “No!”

He had his fucking chance. I’m not stopping him. He can get in here with his bare hands if he wants. But if he expects me to stop, he’s got another thing coming.

“She trusted you!”

I drag the blade free and stab it back into Angelo’s belly. There’s a sickening sucking sound as I pull out the knife, blood pooling in the gashes in his skin.

“You had no right!”

Stab. Suck.

Some of his intestines are visible through his ripped flesh.

“Burn in hell, you sick fuck!”

My shouts become wordless yells filled with rage and pain. I stab him everywhere—his chest, his throat, his face.

Smith steps back when Angelo’s blood sprays in his direction, glancing down as if to check if he got any on his designer suit.

The knife drops from my hand. I fall to my knees, fumbling to pick up the blade again, but my fingers are numb and stupid.

Someone’s sobbing, and I’m not surprised. There’s not just blood on the ground, but bits of flesh and skin and I don’t even know what the fuck else.

I’m hoisted to my feet, and thank God because I still want to gouge his eyes out, but I can’t seem to stand on my own anymore.

When Angelo comes back into view, I almost puke.

He’s still roughly person-shaped, but they’ll have to use dental records to identify him.

---