Page 122 of Sixth Sin

I get that she’s pissed. I deserve her anger, but damn it, I also deserve a chance to explain without being assaulted with family heirlooms. I’m an asshole, but I’m not a monster.

At least not about this.

“Rook, listen to me. You don’t know everything. I’ve been protecting you from—”

Grabbing handfuls of hair, Angel doubles over and lets out a gut-wrenching wail so tortured and painful, I’ll hear it for the rest of my life. “I don’t want to hear any more of your lies,” she cries. “Ruining my life once wasn’t good enough for you, so—what? You thought you’d give it another go? I’m Alexandra Romanov, Dominic! We did this as a team, and you’re still you, but I’m not me anymore. I’m her.” Releasing her hair, she presses the back of her hands to her forehead, squeezing her eyes closed as mascara rolls down her cheeks. “Oh my God, I’m her. Her. The girl in the mirror. I’m her, and now I’m lost. I’m so lost, and it’s dark. I don’t know if it’ll ever stop being so dark.”

She’s breaking. I see it, and I fucking pulled the trigger.

I always thought I didn’t have a heart, and if I did, it was incapable of anything but hate. Yet the woman standing in front of me stole it. She holds it in the palm of her hand, and even if she throws it at my feet or rips it in two, I have no regrets.

I step forward, reaching for her.

“No!” she shrieks, stumbling backward. “It’s not fair, Dominic! This skin,” she holds up her arm, pinching it. “I’m trapped in it. It’s not mine anymore. It’s hers.” Tears stream down her face, and it feels like jagged shards of glass are tearing at my chest and ripping at my heart. Her fingers pinch tighter, tugging and twisting her own flesh until it turns red. “And…I…want…it…off!”

Jesus Christ. She’s about to draw blood.

I can’t take seeing her so shattered and broken. Instinctively, I grasp at the broken pieces crumbling before my eyes. “Angel, baby…”

“No!” Her arm shoots out, forcing space between us. My heart beats with the seconds of silence that pass as a calm, unfamiliar smile slowly spreads across her face. “Haven’t you heard the news? Angel Smith never existed. My name is Alexandra.”

Closing the door to the interrogation room, Detective Rubio scans a curious eye down my ripped jeans and dirty T-shirt before taking a seat across the table. “You’ve taken a step down in the world, McCallum.”

“I don’t wear my tux to move shit, Jav. Sorry to disappoint you.”

Tossing a folder on the table, he lets out a chuckle, as if my answer amuses him. As if he didn’t call Angel minutes after her world flipped upside down to tell her we both needed to come to the station immediately.

Maybe she hasn’t been completely on her game lately, but my girl is no idiot. No one gets called to a police station for good news. And as much as she hates me right now, she still needs me, and this asshole has kept me sitting in a metal chair for over an hour.

I fist my hands against the desk. “Where is she?”

“She’s fine,” he mutters, flipping open the folder, but I see the twitch in his eye. He’s lying.

“I want to see her. Now.”

“You’ll see her when we’re finished.” Folding his arms over the papers, he bends forward. “When that time comes is up to you.”

Another pain stabs me in the chest. She needs me there to ground her. Angel is straddling a razor thin line between her life as Alexandra and her life as Angel. It’s unbalanced, and it only takes one wrong step for it to snap and send her spiraling inside her own mind.

Everything I’ve done has been to keep this from happening. I didn’t want her to know she was Alexandra Romanov out of fear, but not for myself. For her. Because once those memories come back, she’ll never force them out. She’ll never unsee them.

She’ll never forgive herself.

I slump back in the chair. “What do you want to know this time?”

“Violet DeLuca’s body was found at the bottom of the Hollywood Reservoir.”

I wish I could say I’m surprised, but I’m not. She’s been missing for three weeks now. I stayed positive for Angel’s sake, but I knew it was only a matter of time.

“You don’t look surprised, McCallum. Why is that?” He fans the crime scene pictures out in front of me to incite a reaction. I admit, they’re hard to look at. Violet’s face is purple and bloated.

But instead of giving him what he wants, I glance back up at him. “I’m sorry, is there a certain protocol for this kind of thing? It’s my first time; maybe you have a pamphlet I can read.”

Rubio shakes his head, gathering the photos and setting them aside. “Humor, that’s good. You’ll need it.” Digging through his little folder again, he pulls out another photo and slides it toward me. This one makes me grip the edge of the table with both hands. “Because security footage has you and Violet arguing outside of Silverline’s main executive offices. And wouldn’t you know it?” He taps his finger against the picture. “It’s time stamped the same day she disappeared. You failed to mention that before. Why is that?”

I shrug. “Didn’t think it mattered. I can’t control what she does.”

“I guess not. Still, it looked like it got pretty heated. Like right here.” He points to the picture again, and I want to grab his finger and snap it in two. “You had her pinned against the wall. Were you angry at her, Dominic? Angry enough to hurt her?”

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