Page 81 of Corrupting Ivy

“She was here this morning. I gave her breakfast.”

“What time?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

I threw his spatula back on the stove, then turned and walked away.

“Have you called the sheriff?”

I leaned my hand against the wall, keeping my gaze towards the floor. Was it such a bad thing to have the sheriff involved?

Yes. Because when I found the man who did this, I wanted him all to my greedy self.

My hand slid down the textured surface, then stalked out of the kitchen.

“Spence,” Barbara called out to me as my hand hit the door. “I heard what you said. The sheriff released Otis Murphy this morning, right around the time she came to get breakfast.”

I turned back to face her. “What do I want to know that for?”

She swallowed as I narrowed my eyes on her. “They took him in because of the dead women. Some of them went through his clinic.”

“Thanks, Barbara.” I clenched my jaw as I walked through the glass door.

“Pleasefind her,” she said, yelling at me through the closed door.

Jake looked at me as I slid back inside the truck, his computer on his lap.

“Get me the address for Otis Murphy.”

He typed it in. “Who did you have to kill to get that information?”

“Unfortunately, no one.”

Jake typed away, and I held my breath each agonizing second until he found it.

“Here.” He turned the computer screen in my direction. “Do you need directions?”

The red dot marked a spot in the middle of nowhere. “No. I know exactly where that’s at.”

Melancholy piano music drownedout my screams as he stained my flesh red with blood, not leaving a single patch untouched.

He’d been at it for what felt like hours, slicing my skin while my blood rained down to the hardwood floors, making them shine in the candlelight. My legs shook as he counted each cut, echoing the number every time his knife touched my flesh and dragged across my skin. When there was enough blood on the surface, he’d rub his finger across the cut, collecting blood, and then lick it clean.

“Fifty-four.”

“Please stop,” I whispered, pleading as he brought the paring knife closer.

My hoarse throat couldn’t take anymore screaming.

My body couldn’t take any more pain.

My mind couldn’t break anymore.

“But why would I do that? We’re making history here,” he said with a smile on his face as he brought the knife to my skin. “You’re the first, did you know that?” He drew his knife across my calf. With a swift flick of his wrist, he cut my calf, shooting blazing agony up my leg. A scream ripped through my chest, followed by a sob. “Music to my ears,” he said, putting the knife down. “You’re the first woman I didn’t plan to add to my collection. I’ve had my eye on you since the moment you arrived, but I didn’t want to bring you into the fold. But…” he wagged his finger in my face, “fate had other plans. You discovered my magnificent treasures resting in their immortal beds which forced the police to take them from me.” His face turned red, and his hand shook as he dug his thumb into the open wound on my thigh, making me cry out. “They were mine, and they took them because of you. That’s when I knew this is what Fate wanted—for us to be together, eternally.” He licked his finger and closed his eyes, moaning from my taste. “Did you like my gift?” He paused.

What gift? He had yet to give me the gift of death—the one thing I wanted the most right now.

“Jenna was a sweet girl and had the most perfect cries when I carved your name on her back.”

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