Page 41 of Undone

“Fuck,” Colt said, his voice dropping into something darker. He was no longer the unaffected professional I knew—there was worry there, too much of it.

“Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?” Noah demanded, her tone growing more desperate.

I pulled my hand back, feeling her skin slipping from my fingertips.

Colt’s jaw clenched tightly. “It’s identical to the mark on John’s most recent victims.”

“What? What mark?” Noah’s voice cracked, the panic creeping in.

“He’s carving a butterfly, just like this, into the victims’ feet,” Colt said, his voice filled with the grim weight of truth.

This wasn’t a coincidence.

I could see it in her eyes before she said anything. All the doubt, all the confusion she’d carried with her over the last several months, crumbling into one hard, undeniable truth.

My first instinct was to close the distance between us, to find some way to ease the pain that had so clearly broken her down. I wanted to tell her it’d be okay, but that was a lie, and we both knew it.

“No,” Noah whispered, shaking her head in disbelief, her breath catching in her throat. “No, this can’t be…” Her lips parting slightly as if to speak, but nothing came.

I hated seeing her like this.

I hated the way this situation robbed her of her strength, the way it pulled her into something she never asked for. I wanted to tell her that I’d make sure nothing else happened to her. That I wouldn’t let her face this alone.

But I couldn’t.

She stepped toward the bench by the door, and then lowered herself slowly, almost mechanically. Her hands pressed flat against her thighs.

“How could he do this?” she whispered.

I exchanged a glance with Colt, and in that split second, we didn’t need to communicate the urgency. We both knew. We had to get to the bottom of this.

This wasn’t just about John killing women anymore, nor just about Noah being left to grapple with the wreckage of his betrayal.

It was worse. He was dragging her into the darkness he’d created.

She deserved more than to be left floundering in the mess he’d made. She deserved the truth, to understand if she’d unknowingly been woven into the twisted reasoning he used to justify his crimes.

But a darker thought gnawed at me—what if they couldn’t uncover the truth? And worse, what would it mean for Noah if we did?

Her head dropped into her hands. Her fingers threaded through her hair before pressing hard against her temples. She stayed like that for a moment, her breathing uneven, the sound cutting through the silence.

She lifted her head, her eyes sharp as they locked onto Colt, avoiding me. “I don’t understand. I’ve known him for half my life. Dated him off and on for years. He basically calls my parents Mom and Dad.” Her tone grew sharper, the edge unmistakable as she gestured at Colt. “He was there when I got this damn butterfly. Why is he doing this to me?” Her voice rose, full of anger and disbelief, her composure fraying at the seams.

I moved closer. Gently, I took her hand, offering her something solid to hold on to, even if I knew it wasn’t my place. I wanted to be there for her, though I couldn’t shake the guilt that maybe I shouldn’t be.

Her gaze finally met mine, and the storm in her eyes hit me hard—the sadness, the fear, the hollow ache of betrayal. I was looking at the shards of a life shattered by someone she’d trusted.

Noah had this way of slipping past every defense I’d ever built, making me feel like I couldn’t stay away. Like I needed to be near her. To shield her from everything closing in.

But I couldn’t let myself get pulled in. Not by her, not by anyone. And yet, it terrified me how easily she unraveled me in ways no one else ever had.

She shook her head slowly, drawing in a long, uneven breath. Her shoulders rose and fell as she exhaled, her voice softer this time. “Shit, I’m sorry, Colt. This isn’t your fault…”

“No need to apologize. Anyone would be upset by this.” He ran a hand across his long hair that was pulled back, glancing out the window before returning his gaze to her.

“What can I do to help?” she asked.

“Do you think you could handle being questioned again?”

---