“Does your offer still stand?” I whisper.
His brows draw together as he attempts to understand my erratic thoughts.
I lick my lips, trying to find the words. My hands fist at my sides.
“I want to do it. It’s the only way I’ll ever be free. I want to kill Garrett.”
Link stares at me as my words finally make sense. He closes his eyes and shakes his head almost as if it pains him.
“Rocky,” he rasps, his eyes still shut tightly as if he can’t bear to look at me. “You just had the class. It probably brought up some buried feelings—”
“Are you saying no?”
He looks at me now, scrutinizing every feature on my face. His eyes are the only part of his body that’s moving. He’s completely immobile. I don’t think he’s even breathing.
“Are you saying no?” I repeat, my voice cracking.
“I think you need to think about this.”
I laugh bitterly. “I can’t believe this. You were the one that came to me. You offered. Now you stand here acting like I’m being unreasonable.”
He rubs at his forehead forcefully. “It’s a life,” he states, his voice gentle and calm. It makes me irrationally angry. “I don’t think it will hurt to think about it with a clear head.”
“Why would you do that?” I murmur. “Why would you offer to help me and then turn me down when I accept?”
“I didn’t know what I was offering before. I didn’t know the weight of taking a life. I didn’t comprehend how hard it would be to live with.”
I shake my head in frustration. This is the only way I’ll ever find freedom. I feel like I’m coming to terms with it. He can’t make me feel like this. He can’t take it away. “But what? You know now?”
He doesn’t answer and my stomach churns.
Oh, my God.
“Do you know now, Link?” I swallow tightly. How should I feel right now? What is an appropriate reaction? Should I be scared? Sickened? Because all I can muster is envy.
“Tell me,” I breathe.
He nods, one short jerk of his head. “I murdered one of the men that killed Livie.”
Eleven
Link
I said it. I never thought I’d actually say it aloud. But I told her.
I can lie and pretend I did it to warn her. To save her from the burden killing a man brings. I could come up with a hundred different reasons. Excuses.
But I can’t lie to myself.
I wanted her to know. I wanted to share it with her.
And then I couldn’t get away from her fast enough. I drove her home and tore out of there as soon as she stepped inside her door.
Now I’m white-knuckling my steering wheel as I contemplate what I’m going to do about Morrison. This is my third trip to his house. But this time, I get out of the car under the cover of darkness.
I can’t keep putting off the inevitable.
I round the garage in search of a window and peer inside. The space is empty. It doesn’t tell me much other than nobody else is here. At least right now.
I continue around the back of the house, looking for any opening in the blinds. At the third window, I come to a dead stop. Morrison is sitting at a desk, staring at a computer screen. His cat sits perched on the edge of the desk. It looks right at me, tail twitching from side to side.
I step back, my head pounding in time with my heartbeat. He’s right there. The fucker that held Livie while his friend stabbed me repeatedly in the back.
My hand automatically finds the lump protruding from my pocket. My fingers glide over the reassuring grooves of the knife I have tucked there. It’s always there, just waiting.
Livie. Livie.
That familiar ache burns inside my chest, reminding me she’s gone. Reminding me I’m still here. Reminding me of my purpose.
I backtrack, rounding the house, and head for the front door. I want to look him in the eye. I want to ask him why. And I want him to know he’s going to die just as painfully as Olivia did.
His hand over her mouth.
I open the screen door.
His arm wrapped around her chest.
I pound my fist against the warped wood.
Pinning her to him.
I pull the knife from my pocket.
Her eyes wide with fear.
I flip the blade.
Her cries. Her pleas. Her whimpers of pain.
My fingers flex around the handle.
His laughter.
The door opens and I’m face to face with yet another man responsible for the brutal rape and murder of the love of my life.
His eyes flick over my face, enlarging with surprise. His stunned silence speaks loudly. His gaze meets mine, filling with tears. This action speaks loudest of all. His head falls forward, tucking his chin into his chest. His shoulders shake as he breaks down, sobbing. Without a word, he takes a step back, allowing me inside.