Page 15 of Devil's Riches

“It’s not that big. Not compared to the mainland,” I replied, narrowing my eyes. “Nate will find me.”

He scoffed. “I’d be surprised if Nate could even find his own feet after what I did to him earlier. You saw how hard I hit him, right?”

“He’ll find me,” I repeated, clenching my teeth.

“No, he won’t.” Greg’s lips curved up in a nasty smile. “I wasn’t just trying to scare you last night when I told you that no one will find you. You’re in a place that no one would ever think to look.”

I swallowed thickly and changed the subject, hoping he’d inadvertently reveal something useful. “Why are you doing this?”

“Well, I’d love to say that I need to get rid of you because you know too much, but that’s simply not true.” He briefly paused and frowned. “Not the whole truth, anyway.”

“What is it then?”

His twisted smile returned. “The truth is that I’ve missed this too fucking much. You can’t even imagine how badly I’ve needed it. How many times I’ve dreamed of living this exact moment again.” He grabbed something from the bag on the floor—a pair of pliers—and stood up again, looming right over me. “That exact look in your eyes right now. The fear,” he went on, touching the cold, sharp tip of the pliers to one of my nipples. “That’s what I’ve missed the most.”

“So you’ve done this before,” I said in a low voice.

He laughed again. “Of course I have,” he said. “Christ, I forgot how fucking stupid kids in their twenties are.”

I didn’t bother to correct him about my age. Nineteen was close enough, and arguing about something so petty would probably earn me some sort of horrible punishment with the pliers.

He crouched back down and resumed his digging in the bag, pulling out knives, scalpels, ropes, rolled-up plastic sheeting, and duct tape. My blood ran cold at the sight of it all.

“What exactly are you going to do to me?” I asked, voice coming out in a shaky murmur. Until now, I’d tried my best to stay calm, but I’d lost the ability to do so as soon as the blades came out.

“What do you think I’m going to do, sweetheart?” Greg said, cocking his head slightly to one side. “Have you really not figured out who I am yet?”

Confusion roiled in my guts. “You’re Nate’s uncle.”

Greg leaned closer to me and lowered his voice. “Who else do you think I am?”

The sudden realization felt like a jolt of electricity up my spine. “You’re him,” I whispered. “The Butcher.”

“That’s right.” He smirked and stroked a hand over my bare abdomen. “Took you long enough to realize, considering how obsessed you are with the case. Nate told me all about it.”

My throat closed as terror overwhelmed me. “You… you ruined my life,” I managed to choke out. “You ruined my family. And all those people you killed... you destroyed their families too.”

Greg let out a theatrical yawn and raised a palm to his mouth. “Save it, sweetheart. I don’t give a fuck.”

“How could you?” I said, refusing to stop now that my voice had returned. “How could you go out and kill thirteen people in one night?”

I didn’t actually want to hear his repulsive reasoning for his crimes, but I figured the longer I kept him talking, the longer I would avoid pain. It might even be long enough for Nate to recover from his head injury and find me.

My insides suddenly twisted at the thought. Why on earth did I think Nate would come and find me? How could I possibly have hope for that after everything he’d done to me?

Sure, he’d probably want to find his uncle to figure out why he’d been locked up in that bunker for ten years, but there was no reason he’d want to find me, let alone help me. He’d wanted me dead for ages, so he’d probably be grateful if his uncle did the dirty work and knocked me off once and for all.

That can’t be true, a tiny voice in the back of my head whispered to me.

My breath faltered as I realized that pitiful little voice could be right. I knew a silent battle had raged inside Nate every time he came to see me in the bunker over the last week and a half. He hated my guts, but he wanted me anyway. He simply couldn’t resist the lust that ran between us like an electric current.

Maybe that would be enough to make him want to save me.

Greg peered down at me with raised brows. “You think I killed thirteen people?” he said.

My stomach lurched. “What do you mean?”

He snorted with amusement. “I killed a hell of a lot more than those kids at Blackthorne. They were just the ones I wanted to be found,” he said. “I was sick of my talents never being appreciated by anyone, so I strung them up and let the whole world see.”

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