Page 62 of Worse Than Wicked
“I wish for justice,” Mabel says. “For all who deserve it.”
“Damn,” Harper says in approval. “That’s a good one.”
But a cold chill has wrapped around my spine. Mabel says she forgives us, but if she wants justice to come to those who deserve it, doesn’t that mean justice in every sense of the word? Justice isn’t just for victims to receive. It’s also for villains to face.
sixteen
Mabel Darling
“Have you found anything about Dahlia?” I ask Baron, setting down my battered paperback copy ofOutbreak.
“No,” Baron says. “These things take time, and I have a lot on my plate. All your past dates are dead or seemingly normal, though. And I think I found your coworker.”
“Devlin said some cousin of Preston’s is a hacker. He might be able to track her down.”
“I don’t need Nate’s help,” Baron growls, glancing up from his laptop. He sits on the step, the computer balanced on his knees, while I lounge in the hammock. “At least we can rule out your coworker. She’s a red herring, no one important. But I still haven’t found Dahlia or Jane or your stalker.”
“Jane?” I ask, sitting up. The hammock sways sickeningly. “You’re looking for Jane?”
“Yes,” he says, frowning. “Don’t you want to know if they find her body and are looking for us?”
“I don’t want to knowyou’relooking for her,” I say.
“You can’t seriously be jealous of a dead girl.”
“Is she dead, though?” I ask. “You said you’d get rid of her, and then you let her go, and now you’re looking for her. Are you hoping you’ll find her alive?”
“Of course not,” he says, sounding slightly annoyed. “That would be worse than if they find her body and search for her killer.”
“Well, you can see why I’d be upset,” I say. “I thought you gave her up for me, and a year later, you’re still obsessing over her. What am I supposed to think?”
“You’re supposed to think I made a mistake,” he says. “And be grateful I admitted it, and that I’m trying to fix it. If she’s alive, I’ll find her and change that. Otherwise, she compromises everything we’ve built.”
“She compromisesyou.”
“Duke and I have the same DNA,” he says, not looking up from his laptop this time. “Whatever evidence she could take to the police incriminates him equally.”
I lay back and consider that. I think about the emaciated, disfigured girl in the basement of the twins’ rental, how she grabbed my leg and begged like I was Baron while I stood on the wooden steps.
“He’s going to kill me.”
I couldn’t tell her otherwise.
“I’m sorry,” I said, and I thought she was the physical embodiment of the psychological toll they’d taken on me.
“Are you a captive too?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “I’m something else entirely.”
“You have to help me,” she begged, clinging desperately to my khakis. “Please.”
“They don’t let me out of their sight,” I told her. “Baron keeps the key to the basement close, and there’s no windows. I’m not sure how I could get you out.”
“You have to help me. I think…I think…” She started crying. “I think I might be pregnant.”
My stomach dropped, and I squeezed my eyes shut, and I tried not to remember the day Royal dropped me off at the hospital after pulling me from the river. He said dying was theeasy way out. But when I told Jane that, she didn’t want the easy way out.
I’m not sure how to help her now. If she’s out there, Baron will find her. The only thing that will stop him is death. I’m just not sure whose death it would take.
