Page 89 of Filthy Elites

“You haven’t answered the question, Luke.” I narrow my eyes.

“I have a furnace.”

“What?” Finn blurts out. “Since when?”

He shrugs. “It’s new. The guys just finished installing it last week.”

“Why do you have a furnace?” Isabelle asks in a wary tone.

“To burn shit, of course. But I’m kind of into working with glass. We’ll see how it goes.”

“Okay, but how big is the furnace? Aren’t they usually small?” Cameron pipes up.

“Please don’t tell me we have to chop him up.” Isabelle shudders next to me.

“It’s big enough to burn a body without turning it into beef stew.”

“Thanks for the visual, Luke,” Finn complains from the front seat. “That’s officially off my menu now.”

Isabelle turns to me. “This is truly bizarre. Am I having a nightmare?”

“Considering your ex is dead, I’d classify it as a dream.”

I try to guess what she’s thinking by staring into her eyes, but they’ve never been more mysterious to me than they are now.

“Are you okay with all this? I mean, you just killed someone.”

I touch her face, cupping it gently. “I rid the world of a monster. I made you safe. I’m more than okay with it. The question is, are you?”

“Oh, Jason. Of course, I am. I’ll never forget what you did for me. Never. I love you so damn much.”

“I love you too.”

“Aww, nothing like a dead asshole to strengthen the bonds of love,” Luke jokes.

“Dude, seriously?” Finn complains.

“It’s okay. Luke can tease as he pleases.” She rests her cheek against my shoulder and hugs me.

“Don’t let that one get away, Jason,” Luke replies.

“I won’t.”

A sense of total peace drops over me. I didn’t realize how stressed I was about Isabelle’s secret until now. The threat is gone, and I plan to enjoy every day by her side to the fullest for the rest of my life.

ChapterThirty-Seven

Jason– Ten Months Later

I waketo the sound of the ocean, and it feels like I’m still dreaming. Isabelle snuggles against me, pressing her nose against my shoulder. My arm is wrapped around her waist, and her leg is covering mine.

“Good morning, babe.” I kiss her forehead.

“Is it morning already?”

“I’m afraid so.”

There’s a knock on the door, and then Isabelle’s mother asks if we’re up already.

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