Page 68 of Behind the Shadows
After a long time, she spoke. “You could kill me, Kip. But you won't. You didn’t the first time, and you won’t now.”
I wanted to protest, to deny it, but my voice was gone. I only nodded, the gesture sharp and final. The implication sickened me. Holland was right. She was never safe, not with me, not with a man who could forget her name in a single moment and become a stranger.
I kissed her forehead. “How do you know? I can’t even trust myself.”
I shifted so Holland could rest against my shoulder. Her breathing evened. I watched her throat move, fascinated and appalled that I had the power to stop it forever. I had always thought, in my damnable arrogance, that I was the one in control—the lever in the machine, not the worn rope fraying at the edge. Now I saw the truth. I was the weakness. Holland was my strength.
She started humming, the kind of song sung to children. Her chin rested in the crook of my neck. “Tell me what you saw,” she said quietly. “Tell me so I can help you back if you leave again.”
I answered with silence as I tried to recall what I’d seen.
“My father had hands like yours,” she whispered. Her words barely made it through the roar of my pulse. She coughed. A ragged, raw sound. “Large, powerful.”
I understood she was talking to calm me. She shivered, and I realized the cold water was still running.
“Let’s get you warmed up.” I cupped her cheeks and looked at her. “But I think you should leave. I’m too dangerous. I would never forgive myself if I killed you. It fucking broke me once. I can’t live through that again.”
The indecision on her beautiful expression was like a dagger, plunging into my chest and ripping my heart out.
29
HOLLAND
I stood in front of my bedroom’s full-length mirror and stared at the fading bruises on my neck. Three days had passed since Kip had attacked me. When he’d offered me the chance to leave, I had to go. Not to punish him, but he’d terrified me. I needed to wrap my head around what had happened, because I knew damn well Kip wouldn’t hurt me like that. Rough sex, breaking into my house, stalking me, killing men? Sure. But not hurting women. It went against what he did with the society. It went against his moral compass.
That was the moment everything snapped into place. The signs. The blackouts. The look on his face when he didn’t know me. I couldn’t say it out loud—not yet. Not until I had proof. But I knew. And if I was right … It changedeverything.
Thanks to Kip, my bosses thought I was dealing with a family emergency, so I didn’t need to report to work yet. I located my cell on my nightstand and pulled up Monster in my contacts.
Me:
I miss you.
Even with the scare, I messaged him several times a day. I didn’t want him to think I’d disappeared. I wouldn’t abandon him, but I had to have some space to dig into my suspicions.
My phone chimed.
Monster:
You too. I’m working tonight to keep myself busy, and not to break into your home and watch you sleep.
I couldn’t resist a smile. He was doing everything he could to keep it together, and I had more respect for him than ever before. He’d been abused, used, and broken. But what I’d seen was on a new level, and I couldn’t turn off my training at this point. I had to find the answers, and I knew exactly who was going to give them to me even if they didn’t want to. A surge of dark anger rushed through me. It was the same feeling that fueled me when I’d killed Dom. I took a deep breath, allowing that fury to drive me. After all, the best revenge was waiting so long they never saw me coming.
I chose a scarf from my closet along with pressed dark-wash jeans and a comfortable baby blue top. I needed to be able to move quickly, so I slipped on my Nikes. My pulse stammered against my wrist. I’d dreamed about this day for a long damn time, but it never occurred to me it could become reality.
Flipping my hair over my shoulder, I tipped up my chin in the mirror.
“Do this for you, Holland. Do this for Ally. Do this for the man that you’re falling in love with. Set you all free.”
The hour driveseemed like an eternity as I turned the conversation in my mind over and over. No matter what, I had to stay in my psychiatrist head and not spiral into the chaos clawing at my insides.
The house was pristine as I parked my car in the driveway and assessed my location. I sat in my car and noted the front and back entrances. No matter where I was, I always marked the exits. Some habits never died after captivity. Know your surroundings, be aware, be ready to kill at a moment’s notice.
I climbed out of the car and snatched my purse from the passenger seat. Slinging the strap over my shoulder, I steeled myself and felt the reassuring weight of the gun through the bag. Each step I took echoed sharply against the pavement, slicing through the quiet morning air. The birds chirped innocently, creating an illusion of tranquility. But I knew the reality beneath that facade.
The front door cracked open before I reached it, and a woman with kind eyes smiled at me.
“I’m Cynthia,” she said, motioning for me to come in.
