Page 90 of Terror Tuesday
Then he convinced me to keep quiet, or else he would kill my family. And he could, too. With the society’s blessing. Laid outall the ways in which they wanted Xavier Cardell to die. In every gruesome detail.
“Every day that summer before my junior year of high school was hell with him. The only way I could escape in my mind was through that embalmed Monarch. Purposefully rubbing it was the only control I had. Keeping myself focused on the feel of it so I didn’t have to pay attention to what was going on in the rest of my body without my permission.”
Reggie ripped confidence from me. And that’s when I changed. Becamecompliant. Not at all the woman my father always said I would become.
Missing the opportunity to take Reggie out when I had the chance is infuriating. I’m not letting him go again. Not to hurt anyone else.
I finally have the strength to do what I should have all those years ago…
But now I’m snatching it all back.
Whipping the steering wheel hard on a turn, I jerk my head toward Vanq’s mask and spit out, “Did you set me up to feel this way? Livid, but unable to do anything about it? Because you’ve been pissing me the fuck off.”
“Good.”
My jaw drops. “Really?”
“That’s exactly how I need you. Angry enough to break free. You think escaping your cocoon ispainless? That it won’t cost you tears, agony,rage? Let it. Focus that pain, Monarch. Aim your fury at him, and I’ll be right beside you, every step of the way.”
Seething ire quells into staunch determination. The reality of what I’m about to do sinks in. I’d already fought the “can I” and even “should I.”
Now, I know it’s amust.
I have to kill Reggie before he continues his tirade against other girls.
The parking lot is nearly empty at this time of night, but unfortunately, it’s well lit.
Vanq turns my shoulders toward him after I shut off the engine and then tugs down my mask further. “There.”
A pulse pounds deep in my belly from nerves or anger. I’m not sure which. Naomi would’ve given me a shove. Told me to stop being a whiny bitch and cut the fucker open already.
I can do this.
“Let’s go.”
Our shield is nightfall, the rain picking up softly around us. Vanq hovers just behind me like a bodyguard, moving like silk in his steps. Maybe it’s the adventure or nature, but I get a whiff around me and think of Elliot, a tear forming in my eye.
No time for sentiments. But the resentment I feel toward my masked stalker is growing.
It feels like I haven’t made a true choice. Not in my love life. But it doesn’t matter. I’m to be appointed to whomever the board decides. Vanq’s cock won’t make any difference then.
And neither will Elliot’s.
“Here?” Vanq asks as we board the yacht and head up on deck.
“I’ll wait behind this wall.” I duck down into the cockpit. When he climbs aboard, I’ll jump him.
“Below deck would be best.”
“Yougo, then. I’m staying right here,” I snap with ferocity.
Into the dark shadows, he disappears just as a car door slams from the parking lot. A high-pitched squeal and shuffling steps approach.
“I-I-I’m not feeling very well,” a woman’s voice says. “I think I”—hiccup—“need to go…”
“Nah, I need company tonight, sweetheart. My friend took off too early. And I’m not tired.”
If I thought my heart couldn’t pound any harder, I was wrong. With every approaching step, I want to scream into the void to get rid of the anxiety building within me. Sliding a hand into my pocket, I pull out the blade and flick it open as they alight the steps.
