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I pressed my fingers to my gaping mouth, unable to look away from the gory scene.

“He deserved it.” I whirled around, finding Beth, the woman still restrained in her arm, standing in the doorway. “They all did. Do you know how many lives he and the others have ruined?”

The stranger’s face grew pale, her eyes glassy as she stared at the ceiling. Anywhere other than the massacre on the bed. The ceiling was the best place to look, considering it was the only clean spot in a room sprayed in blood.

“I don’t. Do you want to tell me?” I said calmly.

“No one listened. Nothing happened. No one was held accountable,” she whispered, staring at the floor. Hell, even she couldn’t look at the body. “But they are now. They won’t hurt anyone else.”

“Not on your watch?”

She nodded. “No one else will lose that sense of safety in their own home, or their trust in basic decency.”

“Sounds like you know a lot about that,” I said softly, empathy filling my tone. It all made sense. I didn’t know the details, but I didn’t need to. This woman was a victim herself, that much was clear. And the fact that she wouldn’t look at her handiwork told me she didn’t enjoy the kill.

The result, sure, but not the act like a sociopath would.

I considered that a check in the positive column.

“That she does.”

I stood up taller at the unfamiliar male voice that echoed down the hall.

Beth jerked the woman around so hard the hostage stumbled, moving just enough for me to see who’d spoken. Hands held up in surrender, a man I’d never seen before walked down the hall, his eyes trained on Beth.

I didn’t know who he was, but the way he moved and tracked Beth’s every breath told me he was capable of getting us all out of here alive.

“Hudson?” she whispered, eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“Hey ya, B.”

Her hold loosened for half a heartbeat before she tightened it around the woman’s neck.

“What are you doing here?” She shifted to keep us both in her line of sight as this Hudson walked confidently into the bedroom. Points for the man who didn’t even flinch at the bloody mess on the bed as he came to stand beside me.

No, not beside. Just in front of.

Damnit, this guy—whoever he was—just put himself in the line of fire if Beth decided one victim wasn’t enough today.

“I came down to check on you, B. You weren’t returning my calls.”

Her hand twitched. “I’ve been busy.”

“Beth, sweetheart, this isn’t you. What are you doing?”

Her back straightened, and she rolled her shoulders. “This is me now.”

“No, it’s not, B. It’s not and you know it. I know you, remember? I’m your partner, your friend who you tell everything to. And after years of working together, I know this”—he hitched his thumb behind his shoulder—“isn’t you.”

“They deserved it,” she whispered. “They hurt people, Hud. Like that guy hurt me.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” The hurt and pain in his tone cut through my heart. “They might have, but you know this isn’t how it’s done. You give the victims a voice. You listen—really listen—to them and help them. I’m sorry I couldn’t do the same for you.”

I forced myself to not reach out and grip his shoulder. The agony in his voice was almost too much.

“But what about her?” he asked. “Did she hurt those women?”

“No. I didn’t… I didn’t know she would be here. She just showed up when I was about to leave, and… I didn’t think about….” Her voice trailed off as her gaze went unfocused.

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