Page 61 of The Devil's Wrath

“‘Died with him?’” I repeated, my voice barely audible. “What do you mean?”

Theo’s green eyes met mine, and I saw a flicker of something in their depths. Fear? Regret? Sadness? I wasn’t sure. But then he looked away, focusing on the road once more.

“I thought he was dead,” he said. His voice was low and rough. “I saw him die years ago. I watched him disappear under the water.”

The car slowed as he exited the highway, the tires crunching over gravel as he pulled into a dimly lit gas station. He turned off the engine and sat there momentarily, staring straight ahead. Then he turned to face me, his expression grim.

“Listen to me carefully,” he said. “Igor is a monster. He’s the rabid dog loyal to some of the most dangerous individuals in New York that they unleash when they want someone to suffer. He’s the judge, jury, and executioner for The Collectors—the epitome of evil. He thrives on torture and violence, a twisted version of justice in the eyes of The Collectors. He is the one they send in when they need information. He won’t stop until he gets the information he needs, and then he will still torture you because he gets off on it.”

I felt my blood run cold. The Collectors? Torture? I was just a normal girl living a normal life. At least, I’d thought I was.

“I-I don’t understand,” I stuttered. “What does any of this have to do with me? What could Igor or The Collectors want with me? I’m not important.”

Theo ran a hand through his hair. “You’re important to me.” His words hung in the air between us. He must have sensed my confusion because he sighed deeply as his shoulders sagged, as if the weight of the world rested upon them, then reached over to take my hand. His touch was warm and reassuring, but I could feel the tension thrumming through his body. “I can’t say for sure, but it’s probably not you they’re after, not directly at least. It’s me. They want something from me.Hewants something from me.”

“What could you possibly have that they want so badly?”

He stared at me like he was deep in thought, contemplating what words to speak next. “My life.”

My heart skipped a beat. “What? I’m sorry, but I’m either way too drunk, or I swear you just said your life.”

He turned away, and his gaze became distant. “No one ever escaped Igor . . . until me.”

“Oh my god.” I gasped. The horrifying truth sank in as I pieced together the broken fragments of Theo’s declaration. The scars that adorned his body, the ones I’d traced with gentle fingers in the intimate moments we’d shared, suddenly took on a new, sinister meaning. I understood why they were covered by tattoos of gothic architecture and scenes of ensuing battles between angels and demons—they were a testament to the unspeakable horrors he had endured at the hands of Igor and The Collectors. My mind reeled with questions, but I couldn’t find the words to voice them.

“Theo . . .” I whispered as my voice trembled. “I didn’t know.”

He shook his head as a rueful smile tugged at his lips. “Not many do. It’s a part of my life I’ve tried to bury. To forget. But it seems the past has a way of catching up with you, no matter how far you run. I’m sorry,” he said, his voice raw with emotion.

I nodded; my throat was too tight to speak. Theo reached over and gently cupped my face in his hand, his thumb brushing away a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen down my cheek. Swallowing hard, I leaned into his touch, suddenly feeling nauseous and exhausted. The exhaustionseeped into my bones and settled there like a lead weight, dragging me down into a dark abyss of fear and uncertainty.

“Please take me home, Theo,” I said, unsure how I felt. I just wanted to go home.

He hesitated for a second, his eyes searching mine with a pained expression. Then he nodded slowly and started the car back up, pulling out of the gas station and onto the empty street.

The drive to my townhouse was a blur, with city lights streaking past the windows in a dizzying kaleidoscope. My mind reeled as I tried to process everything Theo had revealed and everything I knew about him and his life. I felt like I was trapped in a nightmare, one where the monsters were all too real.

When we finally arrived at my house, he walked me to the door without a word. It was only as I fumbled with my keys that he gently touched my shoulder.

“Listen to me carefully,” he said, his voice calm. “Lock your door and don’t let anyone in, no matter what. If you need me, call me.”

I nodded mutely, my throat too tight to speak. He squeezed my shoulder reassuringly before turning to leave. “I won’t let anything else happen to you, Wrenly. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. “I know.”

“I’ll be outside for a bit while I wait for someone to come pick me up. Double-check that all the windows and doors are locked and the alarm is set.”

I watched him walk away, his shoulders hunched and his hands shoved deep in his pockets. I quickly unlocked my door and stepped inside, checking the locks and setting the alarm with trembling fingers. The soft beep as it engaged sounded unnaturally loud in the stillness.

The silence of my townhouse was oppressive, broken only by the pounding of my heart in my ears. I leaned against the door, trying desperately to steady my breathing and calm my thoughts. But staring into the dark, I was scared. Every creak and groan swirled together in a dizzying, terrifying blur.

And then it hit me.

Theowas my safe place.

I didn’t know when it had happened, but it had. Did it really matter that he had put cameras in my house to watch me? Was I upset that he’d done it, or was I more upset that he’d watched me instead of coming and touching me the way I’d needed to be touched? Deep down, I loved every corner of his dark heart. In a twisted way, it thrilled me to know he’d been watching—that he wanted me so badly, he couldn’t stay away. I loved knowing he craved me in the shadows, that I was the one thing that kept him tethered to the light. I needed him now more than ever.

I rushed back to the door, fumbling with the alarm and the locks in haste. I flung it open and ran outside, scanning the street for him. He was there, leaning against my car, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He looked up, startled as I stood there on the porch.

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