Page 93 of Sinful Skulls
She shakes her head. “I can’t do that, Daisy, but they’ll know where to find me.”
My hand clumsily reaches behind me, and I almost fall out of the car when the door opens.
“Close it,” she tells me.
I begin to cry, because what if I never see her again? What if he overpowers her somehow?
“I’m not afraid of the dark, baby. It’s okay. Shut the door.”
I push it closed and fall to my knees, watching helplessly as they drive away.
My head falls, and I hit the gravel road with my fists.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Elizabeth
Iwatch her break down on the side of the road in the rearview mirror as I dig the barrel of my gun into Baxter’s doppelganger as he drives us away.
“Do you miss it?” he asks.
I return my attention to him.
“Posing for my brother. What a rush it must have been to hold someone’s heart in your hands as he painted you. You were privileged.”
I’m not playing his games. He will not distract me. I will not fail my daughter this time. He’s a dead man.
When we get to the old abandoned warehouse, he tries to make a run for it, but I was expecting as much. I shoot him in the leg, and he drops to the ground. He yells out, holding his knee to his chest. His eyes are wide. He didn’t think I’d shoot him. He thought wrong.
I stand over him and order him to crawl. “Get moving, or your dick will be next.”
This has him groaning as he rolls to all fours. Slowly, he begins to creep into the building. I take him all the way back to the room where I last saw his brother. The chair is still sitting in the middle, but there is no blood to be found.
“Sit,” I order, and then I lean against the wall opposite him and wait.
“What are we waiting for?” he asks after several minutes.
“Shut up.”
He looks around and continues to bitch about his leg killing him.
“Do you paint dead people too?” I finally ask, just wanting him to shut up about his leg already.
He manages a grimacing smile. “I do, but they’re usually alive when I begin. It makes it more exciting that way.”
The blood thickens in my veins, and his smile widens, knowing he’s struck a chord. “You’re sick.”
“And you’re not?” He waves his arm around the room.
This makes me laugh. “Oh, I’m sick in the worst way.” His ears perk up, and he tips his head to the side as he tries to understand the rumbling he’s hearing. “I’m going to get great pleasure out of watching you suffer.”
A few seconds later, the door bursts open, and Henry jumps from the chair. Brody grabs his neck and pins him to the wall. Jacob kneels down beside me.
“Are you okay? Give me the gun, baby.”
I release my hold on it and let him help me to my feet.
Henry makes a gurgling noise, struggling to breathe.
