Page 29 of Moth to a Flame

Pacifying her while I’m doing everything I can not to go out there and murder any man who hurt her.

I have a hard time talking myself out of it. I do it for her. I tuck myself in, zip up, and fix her clothes over her beautiful body.

“Who did this to you?” I repeat once I’m calmer. Once I can breathe without choking on my rage.

If this strong, unrelenting possessiveness is what Mom felt in her last days, then I don’t blame her. Killing Dad wasn’t ideal. I miss the giant man who taught me how to ride a bike and got me into computer science.

But I get it.

“He’s in prison.” Her voice is timid, and I hate it. “In Brinestone. He can’t hurt me.”

“Louder.” Contacts. Subscribers. Acquaintances. I run the names of everyone I know in my head. Anyone who could get me in there. “Give me a goddamn name.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Her eyes flicker to the stairs. “Rosemary could be here any moment. And I still have no idea how you found me. I can’t trust you.”

“I’ll tell you what you can trust.” My head pounds. My teeth gnash. “You can trust that I’m kidnapping you and holding you captive until I get a name. I won’t search for it online. I won’t get it from anyone else.”

Regan hesitates. It’s almost as if the idea appeals to her. Then, “Lester.” It’s a whisper. Another goddamn whisper, like he might reappear.

He won’t. He’ll never reappear.

“You will never be silenced again.” I cup her cheek, grabbing her tight. “Give me his full name. Say it loud.”

“Burkes. Lester Burkes.”

My nostrils flare. “He raped you.”

Woof!

Mojo. That dog I like despite myself barks from somewhere down the stairs.

I don’t take my eyes off her, though. I look her dead in the eye when she nods.

“I’ll fix this.” There has to be someone who knows someone in Brinestone.

Statistically speaking, out of the millions of subscribers we have, there has to be at least one person with a family member or a friend locked up there.

It’s just a matter of time until I dig into all of their lives, our privacy regulations be damned. The stock market can go to hell.

She squeezes my neck. “You’ll end up in prison with him.”

“I won’t.”

At the cutting edge of my voice, Regan relaxes. Her eyelashes flutter. “You’d do that? For me?”

“Yes.” And so much worse. Marshall can attest to that.

“Why?”

“I’m…” Possessed by you. One look and I was yours. I’m never letting go.

“Regan, who are you talking to?” Her sister’s footsteps grow louder. Faster, indicating she’s running up the stairs. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she yells, pushing me off her. “Landon, you have to leave.”

“One last thing.” I help her smooth her hair as soon as Rosemary steps into the hallway.

“Who the fuck are you?” She heads straight toward us.

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