Page 122 of All Your Hate

“We’ll figure it out. We’ll get you out of this and kill him. What about the motel? We could get it shut down somehow.”

Squeezing between the seats, I sit upfront with him and wrap his jacket tighter around me.

“There’s nothing we can do yet. Trust me, I’m working on it all.”

I know he wants to do all the dangerous stuff himself, but I can’t sit around doing nothing.

“What about my fundraiser idea? If he’s there we could catch him alone and finish him for good. Well, I’m sure it won’t be that simple, but it’s the start of a plan,” I say hopefully.

“Fuck, Wynter, you’re so cute when you’re plotting murder.” Noah’s posture relaxes slightly and he gives me a soft smile. “I love you.”

Placing my hand over his on the gearshift, I tell him those words again. “I love you too.”

Whatever we need to do to end this for good, it’ll all be worth it. Once we have Summer back we can become a family and leave all this pain and bloodshed behind.

25

WYNTER

The house is quiet when Noah isn’t here. That lonely cold feeling creeps back through the walls whenever I’m alone.

His presence has become a reassurance. One that tells me I’m safe here, that no one’s going to steal me away and put me through hell. One that lets me know my sister will be found.

The blood on my hands hasn’t stopped spilling since he introduced me to it. I’ve lost count of the amount of men that are dead thanks to me. There are more than I thought I needed to kill.

What am I supposed to do once they’re gone? I can’t do what Noah does and kill random people.

I’m constantly overthinking everything and it’s making my brain hurt.

Heading upstairs, I go to the bathroom hoping to find some pain relief in the cabinet. It’s a mess inside thanks to all the supplements I’m taking, but I find one small unlabelled bottle in the back with a few pills in.

I grab a glass of water and take two of them. Hopefully they’ll help with the pain in my damn pussy as well. Noah’s cock is a blessing and a curse thanks to its extreme length.

Although it’s late I’m not exactly tired so I head downstairs to watch a movie. It can help distract me from worrying about Noah and Summer too much.

I wish he didn’t go on this job for Dmitri. He could get himself killed and I wouldn’t have a clue what happened to him. But I do understand. If Dmitri told me I'd get Summer back if I worked for him I wouldn't think twice. I've never hated a person so much in my life. I'm going to enjoy watching the life vanish from his eyes after I've given him a taste of his own medicine.

Heading to the kitchen, I pour myself a glass of red wine, tipping it back, then pouring another. It’s probably not the best idea to mix pills with alcohol, but I’m sure two painkillers aren’t going to do anything.

When I settle down on the couch a movie’s already playing on one of the channels so I leave it on. It’s already nearing the end, but it’s one I’ve seen before with superheroes saving the galaxy so I keep up with the plot easily enough and finish it along with my wine.

I get my phone out and consider texting Noah for an update, but I don't want to accidentally screw his job up if his phone goes off at the wrong time. Rather than put it away I find my thumb hovering over Charlie's number. I never should have put it in here. It's been so tempting to call her. But I can't risk her safety. She's better off in the dark until all this is over. Once I have Summer back we can go see her and it'll be like none of this happened.

Tossing my phone onto the coffee table, I’m about to get up to grab the bottle of wine from the kitchen when a news report comes on the television.

My stomach drops and bile rises in my throat as I see the house behind the news anchor.

My prison.

I never saw it from the outside, but I had glimpses of the grounds through the windows the few times I was out of the basement and the sedative hadn’t completely taken effect yet.

It’s the same place. I know it is.

“The investigation has been kept private while the body was being identified and the family notified–”

A picture of a young girl with black hair flashes up on screen, she barely looks sixteen.

“Evelyn Young’s remains were found buried on the grounds during the investigation into the murder of Tommaso Abato.”

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