Page 162 of Wicked Little Secret

“Someday,” I whisper under my breath. “You’ll get it.”

A cautious pad of footsteps sounds from behind me. I tear my gaze from Atticus fetching the tennis ball and look over my shoulder at the ajar kitchen door.

Nyssa has appeared, still in her wrinkled sweater and pleated skirt, dampened by the evening drizzle. Hair thatwas once springy and voluminous has started to flatten thanks to the downpour, though she doesn’t seem to notice or care. She’s breathless, lips parted, chest heaving, like she’s rushed to be here.

It takes me a moment to process the fact that she’s standing in the doorway. She abandons her spot, crossing the patio to meet me halfway on the grass.

“Make me understand.”

“Nyssa—”

“Theron,” she interrupts sharply. She sucks in some air, her chin quivering. Her eyes glisten, the look in them a silent plea. “Make me understand.”

I rake fingers through my wet hair and peer at her through water-speckled lenses. “What else is there to make you understand? Except to say that I spent years wallowing in what ifs and would have beens. I grieved for twenty years a woman who I never got to have only to be blessed twenty years later with the woman her daughter had become. It’s the cruel irony of my life. Always has been, always will be.”

“I’m not her,” she mutters, blinking against the thin sheet of rain.

“No,” I admit with a bittersweet twist of my lips. “You’re certainly not. Because what we have is real. What was before was not. It was… a delusion on my part. Unrequited and unanswered.”

“I don’t love you. I won’t ever be able to.”

“You don’t need to. It doesn’t change a thing, Nyssa. It doesn’t change what we’ve shared. It doesn’t erase my memories of you or the way you made me feel. It certainly doesn’t erase how I feel about you. Nothing ever will.”

“Theron…” She pauses to shudder out a sigh, her slender fingers bunching into loose fists at her sides. “It has to be over. We have to forget about each other.”

I laugh. The sound’s hollow and dark. “Nyssa, I don’t get to forget you. I’m not allowed that luxury! So my option’s a tortured existence without you, living in the memories in my head from whatwasonce real. Because… well, I’ll take any scrap of you that I can get. Anything… anything better than going back to life before I knew you existed.”

“You’re a monster,” she says, though her tone lacks confidence. It lacks certainty, almost as if she’s trying to convince herself. “You killed my father. You stalked my mother. You stalkedme. Then… then you’ve killed again! Mr. Wicker. Samson. Veronica. I can’t ever… I can’t ever be with someone like you. I wanted revenge, not?—”

“You wanted what I gave you!” I growl, abandoning any patience. I start toward her before stopping myself a few steps away. “Who are you kidding, Nyssa? Don’t fool yourself! You dropped the gingerbread crumbs. You led me down their path. You wanted me to do exactly what I did. All for you!”

“No,” she says, shaking her head profusely. “That’s not what I wanted?—”

“BUT IT IS! It’s exactly what you wanted deep down!” I roar over her. I finish the last couple steps ’til she’s backing away and I’m advancing, grabbing her by the arms. “I’m not a killer, Nyssa. But I will kill for you. Ihavekilled for you. Because I am so deep in my feelings for you that I’ll do anything—anything, don’t you see—just to hold onto even a piece of you. Because what I feel is deeper than love. Love doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface. Love doesn’t do what I feel justice. But know that it’s what I feel for you, and everything I do—every last fucking thing—is for you.”

“You can’t love me. You can’t feel the way you say you do!”

“You’ll see. I’ll show you. I’ll prove it to you.”

“Theron, what does that mean? What are you going to do?” She squirms ’til she’s slipping free of my grasp. “Please tell me you’re not going to do anything dangerous or crazy. You’re not going to hurt anyone?—”

“I’m going to do exactly what you set out to do,” I say with a quick quirk of my lips. “I’m going to get the revenge you so desperately thought you wanted. I’m going to give you that vindication. That release you’ve sought. It’s up to you whether you want to finish what you’ve started or if you’d rather watch from the sidelines.”

Her eyes widen meeting mine, so dark and shiny I can see my reflection in them. “You’re… serious? You’re going to finish my plan for revenge? While under investigation?”

“I’ve never been more serious.”

She blinks, then looks away. Her conflicted feelings play out on her face, almost a spitting image of her mother the longer I stare and admire her. Right down to the fullness of her bottom lip as she gnaws on it.

“I… I…” she whispers. “I want to help.”

34

THERON

SACRIFICE - LONDON AFTER MIDNIGHT

Miss Driscoll,

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