Page 85 of Forgotten Deeds

Returning to our villa—I didn’t want to spend this much, but we arrived late, and this was the only thing available at the first hotel we came across—we clean up before I turn on a show for Iris so I can strategize.

I unfold a United States map I purchased at a gas station. Where should we go? Maybe Louisiana? I’ve always wanted to visit New Orleans. Then again, Iris and I have those fake passports, so we’re not limited to the United States. Paris, perhaps? I speak conversational French, and Iris is smart; she’d pick up the language in no time.

A knock on the door has me jumping. My heart racing, I walk over to check the peephole—pizza delivery.

After dinner, I tuck Iris into bed and return to my map. Charleston is closer, but Atlanta has a bigger airport—and I’m guessing better flight options—so I plan on us driving to Georgia tomorrow. Paris, here we come.

I step into the master bedroom, flipping on the overhead light and closing the door.

“Hello, wifey,” Darius menaces, appearing from the bathroom.

Slapping a hand over my mouth so I don’t scream, I go to run, but he’s already on me, pinning me against the wall. “I told you I’d tear up the fucking world to find you, and yet you made me do it.” He grits, his chest heaving. “Bad girls get punished, Lily.”

“I’m not playing your sick games anymore, Darius,” I whisper furiously. “You killed Iris’ dad!”

“And you’re both better off he’s gone. Admit it!”

Shoving down the guilt—I’ve had that exact thought he just verbalized—I tell him, “You’re crazy.”

He laughs; the sound sends a chill down my spine. “Oh, Lily. You have no idea how fucking crazy I’ll get if you ever run from me again.” Banding his hand around my wrists, he pins them over my head as he uses his free hand to rip my panties off.

“No!”

“Beg all you want. No one can save you from Diávolos,” he says in a demented voice, moving a hand down to free his dick from his shorts.

“Red!” I shout in a panic.

He backs off, dropping my wrists. Holding his head in his hands, he flings his arms down with a growl, spinning around and punching a hole in the wall opposite me.

“Darius, stop!”

He jerks his hand out of the wall—a plume of dust and a large hole left in his wake. “You want me to splay my chest open and rip out my heart for you?” He pounds his chest with his plaster-covered fist. “Just say the fucking word.”

“No, what I want is for you not to have killed Iris’ dad!”

“Lily, the deed’s done! I can’t go back and change it.”

“Did you get him out of the way so you could take his place?” I ask, angrily swiping at the tears.

“No,” he shakes his head emphatically. “It was business. I swear to you, I didn’t know your connection to Tommy at the time.”

“Like I could ever believe a fucking word that comes out of your mouth,” I spit.

“Don’t be that way,” he begs. “I’ve always been honest with you—as much as my job allows.”

“More fucking lies.” I point to the door. “Get out. We’re finished here.”

He stalks over to me, gripping me hard by my chin. I swallow nervously, but before I know what’s happening, something sharp pricks my neck. Looking down in horror, I see he’s holding a hypodermic needle with his other hand.

“I’m sorry, little angel, but we’ll never be finished,” he tells me quietly.

My eyes growing heavy with whatever’s coursing through my veins, I’m no longer able to hold my head upright. Slumping into his arms, everything goes black.

* * *

Darius

Gently placing Lily on the bed, I dress her before buckling her sandals. Giving my little angel a kiss on the forehead, I scoop her up and open the door.

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