Page 48 of The Perfect Stranger

In the semi-darkness, I waited until Clara composed herself long enough to deliver a warning.

“I’m sorry…” she began. “It’s not pleasant.”

I followed her gaze to the glass box and waited as the lights warmed to reveal the space.

What I saw, ripped me to shreds.

What I felt, destroyed another piece of my soul.

I was responsible.

I had put Ana in this position.

And it had come to this.

“God! No. No. No,” I begged, knowing full well God had left us a long time ago. My eyes prickled with tears for a girl who had no escape. She had been born into this world. She saw what it was worth, the corruption and violence, and she had no way out. She had played along with its demands keeping herself safe, and as soon as I entered her life and she went against the tide, this happened to her. Numbly, I walked down to the box and stared at the face that was once beautiful.

It wasn’t a face anymore.

Ana had been decapitated. Her head sat on the floor of the box facing out, her lips sewn shut with a crude and careless effort. She had received a brutal beating, eyes blackened, hair pulled out in patches. A small circle of coagulated blood spilled from underneath the head.

Closing my eyes, I rested my forehead against the glass in an attempt to steady my rage. It would serve no purpose others witnessing my grief. It would only fuel speculation.

“We found her like this.” Clara touch my shoulder in comfort. “We don’t know who could have done this, not to Ana.”

I turned, swallowing the hard lump. “I know exactly who it was.”

The police were never called to investigate the brutal murder, and Ana would never receive a burial. To the average person, she wasn’t worth it. To someone like Gabriel Santos, she was worth even less. I wanted so desperately to make this right. She was just another name on my ever growing list to avenge.

I found Gabriel.

I wanted to end the miserable fucker’s life before any others lost theirs.

I wanted to make him suffer just like he loved doing to helpless women.

But I didn’t.

I couldn’t.

I needed to find and destroy the king before I took out his minions.

While my heart raged for Ana, I wore a look of indifference as I approached the edge of the pool. It would be easy to shoot him mid-stroke and watch the clear water turn red with his blood. It wasn’t the time.

Gabriel emerged from the water, narrowed eyes meeting mine. He waded over to the edge and stood, water circling around his hips.

“What’s wrong, brother?” he asked, his term of endearment toward me taking on a slight edge.

“You haven’t heard about what happened at the club?”

“Of course. I hear everything.” He paused. It was a silence that alluded to more than he was willing to share.

“You’re not there sorting it out? They’re all pretty distraught.”

“Understandably so. Ana was a valuable and much-loved member of the club.”

I held his gaze squinting against the bright sun. “She was beheaded. Lips sewn shut. The head left in the glass box.” I wasn’t sure why I was telling him, he was the one who had orchestrated the murder. But I wanted the fucker to admit to it… to some degree at least.

Gabriel dropped his gaze to the puddle forming on the ground. “Yes, quite unfortunate.”

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