Page 121 of I Will Mend You

“That’s more engagement than I’ve ever achieved on any of my content,” I whisper.

“But don’t worry, Xeromaniacs!” Dolly chirps. “I’m doing just fine. Xero and I are living the dream, taking out anyone who stands in our way. Isn’t that right, Xero darling?”

Offscreen, a man’s voice adds, “That’s right, Amethyst, baby.”

She leans into the camera with a conspiratorial wink and cups her hand on the side of her mouth. “Oh, and in case you think I’m B.S.ing, check the link in my bio for proof.”

The video loops around to the beginning. I can’t watch that evil bitch expose me for kills I committed in self-defense.

“What’s on the link?” I ask through clenched teeth.

“A video she made of your mother and uncle’s murder,” Xero says, his words flat. “Conveniently, with no sound.”

“Because Mom and Uncle Clive say her name before they die.”

“Are you alright?” he asks.

I rise off the stool and yank the towel off my head. Any sympathy I might have had for the wronged little girl in the diary evaporates like the steam rising from the teapot’s spout.

“Set me up with your best female fighter. I need a lesson in combat against an equal-sized opponent. It’s time for Dolly to die.”

SIXTY-ONE

XERO

Amethyst didn’t sleep that night. Watching Dolly’s performance triggered a nightmare that had her thrashing beneath the sheets. When I held her, she fought back with inhuman strength.

The next day, she opened up about what happened in the asylum. Killing Proctor last night might have loosened something inside her psyche, but Dolly’s fake confession released a flood of anger. Amethyst finally shared the extent of the horrors she suffered in captivity and cried on my chest.

She shook with her need for vengeance, every word she uttered laden with pain. By the end of her story, her green eyes blazed with fury. This was the most alive I’d seen my little ghost since I pulled her out of that bus.

Fire is good, as is anger. It means she’s working through her trauma and will come out triumphant. But I wanted her to rest a little longer before resuming her training.

Now she lies on my chest, completely spent. I run my fingers through her curls, breathing hard through my own impotent rage.

Dolly will die for hurting my Amethyst. Father will suffer an eternity of torment.

Every man who touched my little ghost will die, too. As will every man who watched footage of her or Dolly. No one gets to leer at my Amethyst. Or by extension, her identical twin.

“Are you going to help me train?” she murmurs into my chest.

“I’ll teach you to use firearms. They’re safer and more efficient.”

She shakes her head. “I want to learn hand-to-hand combat.”

I slide a hand over her shoulder, which is covered in one of my shirts and a thick robe. “We need to be careful. Your stitches?—”

“Have been removed. Isabel discharged me from her care. I’m well enough to start training.”

My jaw clenches. I want to hide her away from the world. Keep her so deeply protected she never so much as stubs a toe. After losing her once, I want her permanently at my side.

“Let me capture them. I’ll present you with their bound and beaten bodies.”

She pulls out of my arms and sits up, her eyes still shining with tears. Breathing hard, she wipes her tears with the backs of her hands, then clenches her fists atop the covers.

“I can’t keep hiding behind you. They stole so much from me. I need to face them myself.” She exhales a shuddering breath. “Please, don’t take this away from me, too.”

The words hit like a dagger to the heart, and my breath catches. I force down every protective instinct, not wanting to be another man who causes her harm.

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