Page 43 of The Last Shadow

“Right?” I grin, but it fades quickly as I push on with the story. “They were little shits, sure, but they were also vicious and jealous.”

“And no one helped you?”

I shake my head. “Olivia tried. She had her own problems with the girls and the boys.”

“She was beautiful,” Frankie says. “Then and now.”

Her admission surprises me. I thought for sure she wouldn’t mention my sister. “She was, and she is. But that often worked against her. The girls stole her things and gave her shit, but she held her own. Usually better. But the boys?” I shake my head, and I feel a lump in my throat.

Frankie senses the shift in the atmosphere and gets up to refill my coffee.

“The boys wanted her. They wanted to possess her, to own her. Who am I kidding? They wanted to fuck her. So, they did.” I close my eyes, and the faces of her attackers flash through my mind. “One day, after I was out with Zeke selling photos to tourists, I heard Olivia shout for someone to stop. I took off running because this wasn’t her usual angry shout. She was terrified.” Chills spread over my skin as I think of that day. “When I made it upstairs, she wasn’t in her room. She was in the room shared with three boys—Tristan Dupont, Gavin Kowalski, and Ryder Beaumont. But there were a few others in there too. Some held her down while she kicked and screamed, and the others ripped her clothes off.”

“Damien, no!” Her hands fly to her mouth, eyes wide as they fill with tears.

I nod, my own eyes stinging. “I tried to get to her, to get them off her, but I was too small, and they held me back. They made me watch as they stole the life from her. They took turns with her, Frankie. They covered her face with a pillow, shoved her face into the ground until she couldn’t breathe, until they broke her nose. I was powerless back then, and she never spoke another word after that day. Until recently.”

She’s watching me closely, absorbing my words and my pain. Her face shows a mixture of horror and understanding. “I’m so fucking sorry, Damien.”

In that moment, I know that whatever I am capable of feeling for someone else, I feel it for Francesca. “Damien?”

“I need you to understand why I had to do it, Frankie. I never felt so powerless, so useless in my life. The shit I witnessed them do to her? My own damn sister? It took years before I stopped dreaming about that night.”

She reaches out to me, her hand hovering just above mine. “Damien, I don’t even know what to say.” I can see it all over her face, the conflict, her morals wrestling with what she feels for me. Exactly what I’m counting on.

“It’s a lot, I know,” I say, taking her hand. She doesn’t pull away, and that’s how I know I’ve got her where I need her.

She nods slowly. “It’s just…a lot. Almost too much to believe.” Her voice shakes, her breaths coming quicker. “I mean…how are you handling this?” She shakes her head. “These are serious accusations.”

“Yeah, they are,” I say, keeping my expression steady. “I was there. I lived it. You want to know me? Well, this is me. This is part of who I am.”

“Why didn’t you call the cops?”

I laugh, but it’s a bitter sound. “Call the cops? They basically lived at Hope House. They saw everything—fights, sexual assaults, theft—it was all documented. And they never did a damn thing about it. Not once. I get it now, but back then, I learned quickly: you can’t trust the police. Ever.”

“Jay?”

I nod. “Him, and others too. But yeah, Jay was there a lot, and he did nothing. I knew if there was any justice, it’d have to come from me. I had to make them pay for what they did—for what they took.”

“Okay,” she says slowly, like she’s still piecing it all together. “But why did you torture them? Disembowel the bodies? You’re not crazy. Are you?”

I let out a snort. Crazy? No. Psycho? Maybe. “It wasn’t just about killing them, Francesca. They took something from me. From Olivia. I had to take something back, make them feel what they put her through. They tortured her. Stole her virginity. Left her to die. I thought I’d lost her for good that day, and I vowed to never be weak again.”

I keep my gaze locked on hers, hoping she’ll see the man behind the monster.

After a long pause, she finally speaks. “I’ve been hunting the killer responsible for those deaths.”

“I know,” I reply, feeling the weight of her anger.

She leans forward, her voice sharp. “You were right under my nose.”

“Kitten, it’s not what you think. I did what I had to do.”

“You lied to me.”

I nod. “I did. And I’m telling you now because I don’t want to hide it from you anymore. But I had to get justice for Olivia.”

Her eyes narrow. “You think taking their lives is justice?”

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