Page 135 of I Will Break You

“Is he really dead?” the mother asks.

“No.” Amethyst clears her throat. “I just knocked him unconscious.”

“Thank God for that. One more call like this, and I’ll have you committed.”

“Mom?”

My brow pulls together.

“Mom?” Her voice breaks.

It looks like her mother just hung up. I knew Amethyst’s parents were controlling, but this level of callousness reminds me too much of my past.

Everything they do adds up to nefarious manipulation, from dragging her out of college to stay in a house they purchased on the other side of town, to an allowance too small for a woman of her age to thrive. Add to the mix prescription medication that renders her unable to function, and you have a cocktail of abuse.

Knowing that she may have killed before puts her parents’ behavior into perspective. What if this is the alternative to sending her to an institution?

Amethyst’s features harden and she turns her attention away from her phone. With the precision of an experienced killer, she unbuttons the corpse’s pants. I step forward, wanting to pull her away from the man’s cock, but I force my feet to still.

Curiosity rages through my veins. What kind of woman is she really, and what will she do next?

She takes off his shoes and slips the pants off his legs, only to wrap them around his neck and tie into a tourniquet.

After rinsing her hands in the sink, she opens the back door, returns to the dead man, and drags him into the dark.

SIXTY-SEVEN

Bitch,

This picture is a preview of what I plan to make you suffer before your death.

It’s time for you to feel the humiliation and pain.

Me

SIXTY-EIGHT

XERO

It’s astounding.

Amethyst drags the corpse through her backyard and into the trees bordering the cemetery, all the while looking over her shoulder to meet my eyes. I don’t know what’s going on in her twisted little mind.

Does she think I’m a ghost or a hallucination? Either way, she’s taking my presence in stride. Her reactions—both to my appearance and stabbing a man to death—are proof that she pretended to be a delicate little flower who needed my guidance.

All that woman ever needed from me was a knife.

Not to mention fortune and fame.

I follow her at a distance, breathing hard through my mask, ruminating over the best way to punish such a hardened liar. She made me think I’d found a kindred spirit, when all she saw in me was a cash cow.

Amethyst moves through the cemetery, making sure to hose down the paving stones leading from her yard. She’s a clever little killer who’s aware she needs to cover her tracks.

From the way her mother talked, she’s tired of covering up her daughter’s kills. How many men, and what were the reasons?

Today’s slaying was a clear case of self-defense, and the music teacher was righteous punishment. What I don’t understand iswhy Amethyst didn’t tell me about the others… Unless she killed them before the age of ten.

Shit. How do I even know she’s telling the truth about her memory loss? Her fragile mental state made her stand out among all the women writing to me with their fantasies. That, and a vague sense of familiarity.

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