Page 64 of Vengeful Union

My stomach rolls.

“He lets me do whatever I want. He lets us all do whatever we want, especially to useless bitches like Lara Burke.”

I’m about to take the knife off him when he speaks again.

“And when this marriage shit is over, I’ll do whatever I want with her, and you won’t be able to stop me.”

Rage rockets through me, and my vision goes nearly red.

I don’t know what I’m doing until I’m doing it, dragging the knife across his throat.

I expect to feel horrified when he scrabbles at my shirt, digging his nails into my skin, when he gasps out a bubbly breath and blood floods down my shirt.

I don’t feel anything. I’m numb.

The blood feels sticky and hot.

When he starts to slump over, I let him go, and he crumples to the floor.

That was once a man. A man with thoughts and feelings. Maybe a man with a family.

Not a good man, that’s for sure. The world is better off without him.

But he likely had a mother, a brother, something. He had people who cared about him.

And I took his life without so much as thinking about it.

My breath comes in shorter, I look down at my bloody hands and chest and then look around, wondering if anyone saw me.

There’s no one to be found.

I keep to the shadows as I jog back toward my car, and I crank it up, breathing hard. Breathing so hard that it catches in my throat, and I have to slow down.

I don’t take off for a long, long time, just staring down at my bloodied hands.

I asked myself the other day if I could ever kill someone. I wondered if I’d ever take a life.

And now, I have.

And I still can’t feel a damn thing.

Chapter Nineteen

19

LARA

Rory’s gonefor a long time, and I can’t help being worried. He was acting strangely before he left, and I don’t know what accountants do to blow off steam, but I’m hoping it’s not the same as Irish gangsters.

I’m lying down on my side, looking at the wall, when the bedroom door opens.

I sit up with a grin, turning around to face him, but it fades quickly.

There’s a bruise forming on his cheekbone, and his shirt is covered in blood.

I gasp, scrambling out of bed and hurrying to him.

“Where are you hurt?”

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