Page 181 of I Will Break You

“Let it all out, little ghost,” I say.

She stomps on my foot with no impact. “How could you do this to me? First, you skulk around my house, pretending to be a ghost, then you put body parts under my pillow, then you delete my manuscript, and now you’re making revenge porn?”

Her only saving grace is that she hasn’t mentioned all the men I killed in her name.

“It wasn’t me,” I say.

“Who else would want to dress up as the Grim Reaper and ruin my life?”

“Look at me.”

“No.”

I pull her wrists together to restrain her with one hand and lift her chin. She glares up at me, her eyes tearing up with pent-up anger.

“Hate me if you want, little ghost. It doesn’t change the fact that you belong to me, and I take care of what’s mine. Someone else shot that footage, and it wasn’t me. Before you ask, my people wouldn’t do something that would get them killed.”

“Then who?—”

“Think, Amethyst,” I snarl. “Who was responsible for making you late for our wedding?”

Her features fall, and she stares up at me through wide eyes. “The person who sent that photo?”

I nod.

Her gaze darts to the door. “You don’t think…”

“That your mother could have sent it?” I ask. “You tell me. Is she capable of doing something so spiteful?”

Amethyst bows her head. “No… Maybe… I don’t know.”

“Neither do I. But one thing is for certain. She didn’t make that decision to sell the house on the spur of the moment.”

Real estate prices in this suburb are now at an all-time high.Mrs. Crowley could release a hell of a lot of equity if she sold number 13. That’s a shitty motive, but people have done a lot worse for far less.

I now have a compelling new lead. The next time I interrogate Melonie Crowley, I’ll make sure Amethyst doesn’t get in the way.

EIGHTY-THREE

AMETHYST

All signs of the person who sent that naked photo of me as a child point to Mom. Or Uncle Clive. She was sick of me years ago, even before I killed Mr. Lawson. Why else would she send me to a boarding school less than a thirty-minute drive from home?

I lean against the wall, my gaze drifting to the slash I made on Xero’s arm. “Sorry,” I mutter. “I thought she was about to end up like the men downstairs.”

He pulls me into a half-hug. “I’m proud of you, little ghost. It’s the first time you’ve shown some backbone when it wasn’t your life at stake.”

“What are we going to do about my mom?”

He gazes at the closed door. “We’ll pay her a visit on our terms and get some answers about your past.”

“How are we going to avoid the police?”

“Let her try to call them. When we visit her after dark, I’ll make sure to cut the phone lines.”

The knot in my stomach from when she hurled out those filthy accusations twists with guilt. Setting a man like Xero on Mom is like signing her death warrant or a permission slip to remove body parts. Even if she is trying to scare me out of my own home, she’s still taken care of me my entirelife.

“No hurting her.”

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