Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
This is it. The end of my life as I know it.
Francesca: I need you to come home. We have something to talk about.
I shove my phone back into my pocket and look at Olivia, sitting here with hope in her eyes.
I stand and say, “I’ll be back,” trying to keep my voice steady. I want to come back. But I don’t know if I will.
She pouts like she did when we were kids, and it makes me smile. “Promise?”
My throat tightens, but I nod, giving her the best smile I can manage. “Yeah. I promise.”
I turn away before the lie settles, before it digs in and feels real, because for all I know, Francesca’s waiting with a squad of officers at the cabin, ready to end this chapter of my life for good.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Frankie
I pace the length of the empty bedroom, my heart hammering like a caged animal against my ribs. It’s like I can feel the walls closing in. I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing—hell, I don’t even know what the right thing is anymore. But staying silent feels wrong and doing my job breaks my heart knowing what I’ve done.
Damien’s been gone a while and I don’t even know how long it will be before he gets here. After investigating the cases and the torture of the dead men, I should be repulsed, disgusted even. But I feel a strange understanding, empathy for a man who should be nothing but a name in a file, not the man I married.
Everything about Damien makes sense now, the haunted look in his eyes, the anger, the relentless need for control. What he and his sister went through, what he’s done for her, everything.
It all clicks into place with a terrible clarity. Seeing Olivia makes me realize that he’s bound to her pain in ways I’ll never understand. For him, this revenge is more than justice.
It’s his way of balancing the scales, a way to heal what can’t ever be fixed.
But then, there’s my badge. My duty. I’m a cop, sworn to uphold justice. Justice for everyone, no matter how ugly or vile they are. That’s the code I live by, isn’t it? Can I bring myself to undo everything Damien has done? Can I really drag this whole bloody mess into the light, lay it out there in the open for others to judge?
And for what? Justice for monsters who ruined lives and walked free? Does anyone truly benefit from that?
“FUCK!” I scream at the wall, my fists clenched. “FUUUCK!”
I inhale slowly, trying to ground myself. I have to do this. I head upstairs and change from lounge pants and a sweater to jeans and boots. The air’s getting colder, and I don’t want to look like a cop—or a hot mess.
As I reach the living room, I hear Damien’s voice echoing through the house. “Frankie?” His voice is loud, then softer. “Francesca?”
“I’m here.”
His brows dip and confusion flickers across his face. “Is everything okay?”
I nod. “No. Yes. Everything will be okay.”
His gaze rakes over me and my body responds to the heated look in his hazel eyes. God, I hate that he has this control over me. “What’s going on Francesca?”
“I need to go somewhere.” I clasp my hands together and keep still, watching as his eyes narrow with uncertainty.
“Where?”
I let out a breath and shake my head. “It’s not jail, and I’m not arresting you.” He studies me, suspicion clear in his eyes. “Please. I need to show you something.”
His jaw clenches like he’s about to break some teeth, and his eyes dart back and forth. “You’re my wife now, Francesca, and you can’t reveal anything I’ve shared with you.”
“I’m not turning you in or revealing anything, Damien. I swear.” I hold up both hands. “It’s a place off Route 66.” I descend the last few steps and make my way to the front door. “Come on.”
He doesn’t move, just watches me. I wonder what he sees—the woman who might be his undoing, or the one he’s bound to protect. “Where are we going?”
“We’re going back, Damien. To my past.” He still doesn’t budge, and I push harder. “You trusted me with your darkest secret, and I’m still here.”
“Fine,” he growls, and closes the distance between us. “Leave your phone here.”
“I have nothing on me, Damien. You’re safe. I swear.” I pat my pockets and turn slowly before we’re face to face once again. “I’ve given this a lot of thought. I need to do this.”
“I’m driving.”
“Good.” I’m too wound up to focus on the road. This is part of my history, a place I’ve avoided for years. I don’t know if it’s the right move, but we’re on the way now, and there’s no stopping.
After a long silence, Damien finally speaks. “When I said I loved you, I meant it, Francesca.”