Page 113 of Vicious Deception

“Did you ever love her?” I demand, my voice breaking.

She deserved better. So much better.

Richard tries to shove Elliot and Oliver away, but they keep him firmly pinned down in the tub. One day, hopefully soon, I’ll look back on this and take pleasure in the memory of the panic in his eyes. But right now, all I feel is the pain and rage I’ve bottled up my entire life.

“Answer me,” I grit out.

“At one point, I thought I did,” my father replies, his gaze dropping. “But now, I’m not sure. We were young. Stupid. We didn’t know what love was.”

“She knew,” I tell him.

Everything I planned to say to him feels so unimportant now. Would it really even matter? This—this isbeyondheartless. There’s no point in explaining all the reasons I’m doing this. He’ll never understand. He’ll never care.

Flipping open the knife, I grab one of Richard’s hands and force his fingers to wrap around the handle. “Do it.”

“What? No! Are you fucking kidding me? I’m notkilling myself,I—”

“Do it,” I shout. “You’re a doctor. You know how to make it as quick and painless as possible. If you make me kill you, I won’t provide you with that courtesy.”

He gasps, horror and disgust falling over his features. “You—”

But Oliver clamps a hand over his mouth. His gaze locks with mine, hardened with anger on my behalf. “He doesn’t get to say anything else to you. Not on my watch.”

The next couple minutes in the bathroom are a blur. I’ll never forget Richard’s whimpers of pain or all the blood, but it’s not the thing that sticks with me the most. What does is the relief. The weight that lifts off my chest, so familiar I feel unsteady without it.

“It’s done,” Elliot says quietly, only letting go of Richard once his chest has stopped moving. “He’s gone.”

When I stand, I feel dizzy. I’ve dreamed of this day for years, and now it’s finally here. My father is dead. He’s finally paid for his part in Sammy’s death—for his part in my misery.

Wren grabs onto me, and I realize I’m swaying. I don’t think my body knows how to react. Standing over my father’s dead body, knowing my sister’s murderer is locked up and in an unimaginable amount of pain, I’ve never felt safer.

“Hey.” Oliver places a gloved hand to my chest. “You’re okay.”

My smile is shaky and mostly hidden by my mask.

“You’re okay,” he repeats as Elliot slides an arm around me to take some of my weight.

For a few brief seconds, I lean into them, closing my eyes. Iamokay—possibly for the first time since I was young.

“Thank you,” I whisper, feeling like I could float away—like they’re the only thing tethering me to the earth. “I love you all so much.”

And then we go, slipping into the darkness and driving back home. None of us speak. None of us need to.

When we finally fall into bed, I doze off quickly, and I sleep for the longest I have in years.

Chapter thirty-three

Wren

Inthemorning,Iwake up next to Elliot. When I roll away from him to stretch out, he grabs my waist and pulls me back.

I let out a laugh. “Elliot!”

“No,” he mumbles, nuzzling my neck. “Stay with me.”

“I was just getting more comfortable.” Moving onto my side so I’m facing him, I caress his cheek with the backs of my fingers. “I’m not going anywhere.”

With a content sigh, he closes his eyes and relaxes. He keeps an arm draped over my side while he drifts off again. After a couple minutes, I roll over and grab my phone from my nightstand.

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