Page 8 of Lady Death

“My name is none of your business.”

“Then I guess you’re not getting them back.”

Indignation swept through her. He was just another man using something against her, when she didn’t want anything to do with him.

“Fine,” she said, turning and heading toward what she assumed was the door. “Keep them. I can get more.”

“Let me take you home—”

“No,” she snapped, spinning back around. “Thanks for patching me up. Hope I never see you again.”

She yanked the door open, glad to see it was indeed the way out. Without looking back, she hurried to make her escape. Since she didn’t have any money, she’d have to make her way on foot. It took a moment to discover where in the city she waslocated, and then once she got her bearings, took off back to her part of the city.

It took about half an hour to finally make it to the gym. She walked up to where the hidden camera was and waved to get Darby’s attention. A moment later, the door opened and he yanked her into his arms, hugging her tightly. His body shook and she hated that she caused him so much anxiety.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he demanded.

Keres looked around. “Let’s get inside and I’ll tell you everything.”

When the door closed behind her, Darby reset the alarm and led her upstairs to their apartment. He had offered her the spare bedroom when he discovered she had no family, and since she didn’t want to be alone, she agreed.

“What happened?” he asked the moment she sank down on the couch. “And why are you dressed like that?”

“Peterson had a little energy left to fight back, and he managed to stab me.”

“What the fuck?” Darby burst out. “Damn it, Keres. Let me see.”

She held up a hand. “It was superficial. I’m okay.”

“I’ll make that determination. Now, show me.” Reluctantly, she lifted her shirt, and he frowned. “Did the owner of these clothes bandage this?”

“Yeah. As I was saying, the paralytic finally kicked in and I managed to make Peterson regret his life choices.”

“That doesn’t explain where you’ve been for the past couple of hours.”

“Would you believe this city has another Good Samaritan?”

He scowled at her. “What does that mean?”

“Some man found me hurt and I guess he took me to his loft, bandaged me up, and I left. Took me a while to walk home,though.”

“You’ve been compromised.” He ran a hand over his face. “Fuck. That’s it. No more.”

Keres leaned forward. “We can’t stop, Darby. We killed the men who hurt me and Abigail, but not the one responsible for Jonathan. We have to cut the head off the snake.”

“Not if it means you could get hurt again.”

She took hold of one of his hands. “We can’t let them continue hurting innocent people. The justice system failed us, and there is no one else who’ll take care of the monster. It’s up to us, even if we get hurt. Even if we die.”

He stared at her for a long moment, then slowly nodded. “Even if we die,” he agreed.

Keres kissed him on the cheek and then headed to her bedroom. Gathering her shower caddy, she went to the bathroom to wash and brush her teeth. It had been a long night, and she was ready to crash, but as soon as she closed her eyes, the nightmare came again. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t save herself while the men held her down and violated her. She jolted awake, panting, with tears coursing down her face. Wiping them away with her palms, she knew there’d be no more sleep for her. At least, not until she exhausted herself. Rising, she dressed and headed downstairs to the punching bag. Methodically wrapping her knuckles, she got into stance and began punching. Thoughts raced through her mind of the demons that needed exorcising.

She refused to be a victim anymore. Refused to be a slave to fear. She’d made herself a promise as she laid in the hospital, recovering from all the injuries inflicted on her body and mind, that she’d rise above every sin forced upon her. As she punched the boxing bag over and over, the tape on her knuckles began to fray. The skin underneath split and blood smeared on the leather. In her head, she reminded herself she was a phoenix, rising from the ashes. She lived for a reason … for vengeance.She was her name, a death spirit waiting to send them to hell.

For hours she kept at it. Punch, duck, weave. Over and over, until her muscles hurt. Until she collapsed, vaguely aware of Darby picking her up to take her back to her room. This time, she didn’t dream. The horror stayed away, patiently waiting for the next weak moment in her dreams.

Chapter Five

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