Total pages in book: 192
Estimated words: 189782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 759(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 189782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 759(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
Then I see her terror, the pain, the horror of that place, that cabin, and my control shatters. I want to tear something apart, crush and sunder until there’s nothing left but a boneyard of vengeance.
The harness digs into my chest as I lean forward. The rampage inside me sharpens, becomes a blade, cold and deadly, ready to be unleashed.
The plane jolts as Monty dips low, skims the familiar ridge of a gorge, and follows the river that rushes between the cliffs.
He follows it north toward the hills on the horizon.
Our hills.
My breath catches in my throat.
The cabin, the nightmare, the place where Rhett has her—it’s just ahead. I feel it, like a demon on the edge of my consciousness, a dark pull that draws me in, submersing me in bloodlust.
We followed Rhett’s instructions.
Tell no one.
Arrive in the bush plane alone. Just the Strakhs.
Remove your clothes.
Enter the cabin, naked, with your hands in the air.
If you break these rules, I’ll kill her.
He hasn’t given us much wriggle room, but we have a plan.
It’s simple.
We’re going to butcher him, slowly and ruthlessly.
62
Frankie
—
Wolf.
Oh, God, I loved him. I loved him so much, and he’s gone.
Gone.
I feel it in my chest, in my stomach, in the way my insides tremble and convulse as if my body is trying to reject reality.
It’s not just grief. It’s a bottomless, excruciating pit, swallowing all light, all air, and all hope.
The drug keeps me locked in the empty darkness, my anguish trapped with no release. Tears pour from my eyes, hot and unending. And silent. I can’t make a sound. I can’t free my agony.
“You can keep them as long as you want.” Rhett strokes my hair to comfort me, but it only deepens my horror. “They don’t stink. I embalmed them and preserved them in chambers of frost. They’re perfectly preserved for you, sweetheart.”
Chambers of frost? Does he mean a morgue refrigerator? I strain my eyes toward the walk-in freezer in the kitchen. Did he keep them in there? How did he transport them here without getting caught?
And what gives him the impression I would want this?
Revulsion curls through me. He desecrated their bodies and turned them into morbid displays for his twisted pleasure.
He went through a lot of effort to set this up. Although, if he wanted to hide bodies, this is the place to do it.
I imagine he didn’t have much time to prepare them. Some of their clothing must’ve been cut or partially removed to facilitate the embalming process.
Denver is shirtless. Sirena and Doyle wear the clothing I last saw them in. Same with Wolf. The bloodstained coat he borrowed from me hangs off his shoulders. The shirt beneath the coat appears dirty. Old.
He’s been dead for ten months.
I’m going to die here, too. I’m going to die in the place I fought so hard to escape, surrounded by the corpses of those I loved and hated.
Why else would he lay me on the table like a sacrifice, positioning me among the dead?
I’m meant to join them.
“You’ll be safe here.” His soft voice chills my lungs. “I’ll take care of you, just like I took care of them.”
Denver knew.
He knew exactly what was coming for me.
There’s another, lurking, yearning for you in a way far darker than my own affection.
I’m the silent ache, the shadow that lingers, the present from your past, the knife in your heart.
I want to scream and thrash and tear Rhett apart with my bare hands.
How could he do this?
How did he hide his evil from me all these years?
With my head turned toward Wolf’s body, I can’t pull my eyes from him. His face, once so expressive and adoring, droops with lifelessness, his beautiful blue eyes closed forever.
Rope digs into his chest, binding him to the chair in a cruel mockery of the man he was. Three empty chairs sit beside him, each with ropes already wound around the backs, waiting.
Waiting for Monty, Leo, and Kody.
Anguish, madness, soul-rending terror—it suffocates me from within, crushing me breath by breath.
Rhett’s going to put them in those chairs. He’s going to kill them all, just like he killed the others.
And he’ll make me watch.
I can’t—I won’t survive that.
The panic consumes, winding tighter and tighter with every second. I try to fight it, try to focus on anything other than the image of my men, dead and cold. But the thoughts keep crashing into me, one after the other, leaving me gasping for air I can’t gulp.
Horror and helplessness strangle me, and there’s nothing I can do but silently cry.
Rhett circles the table, his footfalls slow and deliberate, ticking through the kitchen like a countdown to the end of everything I love. I feel the vibrations of each step through the wood beneath me, through my bones, as if he’s already started digging my grave.