Page 7 of Beautiful Prey

My eyes shifted to the door, then back to him. “Yes.”

“They did. All of them. They deserved every single cut of my knife. And if I could do it all over again, I would, and I do it with a smile. And if I had more time, I would have done so muchmore. I would have split their skulls and decorated the outside with their corpses, hanging them from the porch or skewering them on the fence. I would have painted the walls in their blood, cut them up until they were nothing but soup for wild dogs, relishing in every. Fucking. Stroke.” Every word was like a knife to my gut, and my blood turned cold. “So, Evee, does that satisfy your question?”

I was speechless. Shocked into silence. John and the other men were already entering the room, tasers and batons at the ready.

“Time’s up, sweetheart,” John said, and Emery repeated in a whisper.

I could do it, right there and then, I could tell him that he didn’t get us all. He lost and he’d never have a chance. I could scream at him, professional demeanor and reputation be damned.

But no, not tonight, not in front of the others. I waited too long for only a sloppy finish like this. So, even though I burned inside, I kept the smile on. I took my recorder and turned it off, pushing it in my bag along with my notepad.

I stood as the men circled him and John unchained him from the chair at the back.

Emery never took his eyes off me.

“This was certainly insightful. I’d say it was nice to meet you, Emery, but well, I’d be lying. And I think you and I should be honest with each other.”

“I agree,” he said. “So in that case, it was nice to meet you, Eve.”

CHAPTER TWO

“They deserved every single cut of my knife…”

I stopped the recording again, closing my eyes to block out images it created, rubbing my nose as if that would clear them, then I returned to the page on my laptop that currently served as my thesis. I typed my notes along with a few more comments and then just stared at the screen.

Idiot.

Three days had passed since I met Emery, my father’s killer. My brother, uncle, and cousins’ killer. My immediate family and more than half my extended family had been gone for almost six years now. My mother died when I was four from cancer, and my grandparents passed before I was born. If it hadn’t been for Wes, my father’s friend, and his wife, I would have been put into the foster system. If it hadn’t been for Jamie and my small circle of friends, I would be utterly alone.

All thanks to Emery.

I finally met him, had a chance to tear him apart figuratively, and I blew it. Or at least I felt I had. Dr. Langley made it very clear that Emery hadn’t talked to anyone as much as he had to me that night in years.

But it still felt like a failure. I hardly learned anything. Only that, somehow, Emery thought my family deserved what they got. Which was horrifying as much as it was untrue.

I wanted more to the story. Needed it. I emailed Mrs. Conley back about the interview and that it hadn’t been enough. But the emotion Emery had pulled from me…the memories…it was so much. Maybe too much. I didn’t know if I could stomach seeing him again.

But for my family, for myself, I was desperate for the truth. For three nights, I went back and forth on my decision to email Dr. Langley, begging him for another chance with Emery. Eventually, I gave in. Only to not hear a word back.

That night might be all I get. Maybe he thought it had been too much for me. That no matter how hard I tried to hide my fear behind a pretty smile, he had witnessed the pale face and bright eyes of someone who was terrified. Who wasn’t strong enough to handle someone like the Devil of Harper Pointe.

My gaze fell to the picture frame on my desk beside my computer. Me, my father, and my brother, Terri, at a pumpkin patch on my tenth birthday. Terri had been nine years older than me and had just started college. He had also started working for my father’s company, Martel Health Industries a year prior. He had wanted to either be like Dad, a clinical neurologist, or a surgeon like Uncle Pete since our cousin, Vince, already started his masters in internal medicine. Because that’s what my family did…had done. They helped people, not hurt.

So how could Emery say such a thing? How could he say they deserved what they got?

My phone vibrated, flashing a text from Jamie.

I’m back and I want to hear everything that happened. NO PHONE CALL. Meet me at Lela’s. 2:30.

I rolled my eyes and sent a message back. As if I would call. Besides, I hadn’t been out of my apartment in days, not even to go to the library or campus. I wouldn’t be meeting Mrs. Conley until tomorrow, and my other classes were online to give me more time to work on my thesis and less time driving and sitting in a classroom.

I turned off the recorder and placed it in my bag. I wasn’t about to let Jamie hear any of it, but I needed it with me, some strange paranoia demanding that I keep me and Emery’s conversation close lest it somehow get deleted, even when I copied it to my computer. Or maybe it was because I wanted to listen to it again in the car.

As I went for my coat, Sammy—my black and orange feline—meowed and rubbed softly against my leg.

“I’ll be back, sweetie,” I said, bending to scratch her head. She meowed again in response as I made for the door.

Even though Lela’s was only down the road, I drove. In early September, the air was already chilling and the clouds hinted at rain. Surprisingly, the little coffee shop wasn’t too packed today. Jamie waved at me from the window seat as I entered.

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