Page 100 of Deeper

“The guys and I…we just sort of fed off one another. Each one of us pushed to see who would take it further. We didn’t stop. We never stopped. One thing led to another, and then hours later, we realized she was dead. I don’t even know when she died or how long she was dead before we noticed. After a while, the whole thing wasn’t even about her. We’d entered into some kind of pissing match with each other, and no one wanted to be the first to back down.”

My stomach threatens to revolt, but I push down the rising bile.

“You hurt her physically?” I can’t hide the sadness in my voice.

“Yes.”

“You raped her? All of you?”

“Yes.”

“And you got rid of the body?”

“My father did. I went to him after I realized what we did.”

“Where did he put her?”

“I don’t know. He never told me. I never asked.”

“You didn’t care! You didn’t ask because you didn’t care! Your daddy was there to clean up your mess, and that was all that mattered to you. She was a person with a family and people that love her, and her body was never returned to them—to me.”

“I’m sor—”

I spit in his face. “Don’t you fucking dare. Don’t apologize to me. You aren’t sorry for what you did. You’re sorry you got fucking caught. If you were sorry, you would have come forward before we got here.”

He looks at the floor and closes his mouth.

“Were there others?”

“What?” He looks confused.

“Were there others you or your friends hurt, raped, or killed? Have your fathers or the police continued to clean up your messes? Was Aria a one-time thing, or was she the first?”

He doesn’t answer, which is all the answer I need.

“Callen, gag him. I don’t want to hear anything else he has to say.”

He does so, and then we stand, facing one another, in that dirty storage unit.

“Take his words away with your touch. Wash away his filth from me, please.”

Three steps. That’s how many it takes him to reach me. His strength and captivating energy pull my dark thoughts away from Aria and the brutality she suffered.

Languid sweeps of his tongue.

Rough nips from his teeth.

Warm lips on mine.

I pull back and look into Callen’s intense eyes. “I want him to die slowly.”

“Stab him a few more times, but be careful not to hit anything major, or it’ll be quick.”

I straighten my legs, and Callen lets me go. With my feet back on the floor, I move toward Laurence, who is panic-stricken. He doesn’t move an inch as I slide the blade from his throat to his shoulder. The way his body shakes rattles the knife in my hand.

“Here?” I ask Callen, indicating where the sharp end touches his skin.

“Yes, right there,” he croons.

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