Page 127 of Fall Into Me

Attacked by a psychopath who watched me have sex for an undisclosed number of days?Fucking check.

A shudder racked my body at the thought. “He said—”

“Fane’s fine. He’s on his way.” Ashton interrupted, his voice calm but laced with steel. He dug his gun further into the back of Declan’s head, his movements measured and deliberate.

“You lied,” Ash gritted the words out, his tone venomous. Declan flinched, his composure cracking, and I noticed for the first time the knife Ashton had also pressed into his side. “Didn’t you, you fucking pin-dick piece of shit?”

“What do you—”

“Cali,” Ash said sharply, eyes cutting back to me. “I need you to put the gun down and go check on Jerry. Dial 911 on your phone, but don’t call them yet.”

“When do I call them?”

“You’ll know.”

“I don’t have a phone.”

“Mine’s in my pocket.” His instructions were clear. Calculated.

I could start to feel the adrenaline was wearing off from my system, but I forced myself to hold Ashton’s eyes for a second longer.

“Between one and ten?” I asked him, ignoring the slight tremors starting to take over my body.

“I’m good. I’m a ten.” His voice was unshakable. “Everything will be okay. I just need you to sit with Jerry. Okay?” he asked again.

“Okay.” And I believed him.

“Remove the magazine, and leave the gun on the floor.”

I did as he asked, the weight of it hitting the floor like a punctuation mark to everything that had just happened. My fingers were stiff as I reached into Ashton’s pocket for his phone, but I managed.

I made my way to Jerry, my steps unbalanced but purposeful. I knelt beside him, checking him over, watching the rise and fall of his chest. Letting him know I was there, that he would be okay.

I stayed there, my hands resting on Jerry’s fur, and when the sound of the gunshot cracked through the house, reverberating off the walls, off the hardwood floors, I didn’t even jump.

As soon as the ringing in my ears began to dissipate, I hit call.

37

Calista

After

The story was simple enough: Declan broke into my house, tried to kill my dog, and then attacked me.

That’s what I told the officers who showed up just moments after Ash sped off in Delilah’s car with Jerry. I explained how Declan had called Fane on my phone, not to ask for help but to antagonize him. To make him listen as he hurt me.

I told them how, at some point, he realized what he’d done. That he started apologizing. Repeating himself, saying sorry and how filled with regret he was. That he knew there was no coming back from it, and then he walked into the living room of my house and shot himself in the head.

I explained how Ashton had shown up shortly after, following a call from Fane. How Ash had taken my dog to the vet after alerting the authorities, who’d already been on their way thanks to the sound of a gun going off inside my house.

“And you’re certain, before arriving in Darling, you had no prior contact with Mr. Thomas?”

“His name was Declan Thomas?” I winced as the nurse gave what felt like a very aggressive tug to the stitch she was putting into my shoulder.

Could I feel it? No, I could not.

But could I imagine in mind-boggling detail what itwouldfeel like? Yes. Yes, I could.

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