Page 42 of Depraved Truths

“Man, we have to get a move on this. We’re already behind on the shipment. The boss is going to have our asses.” The voice sounds vaguely familiar, but I can’t quite place it.

“Keep your voice down. Allie will hear you.” Dalton’s voice is low, strained, and almost frantic. “Look, we’ll get it done.”

“Speaking of Allie, I hear congratulations are in order.” The familiar voice sneers.

“I told you the plan is in motion. I know my assignment, and I’ve followed through.”

“She doesn’t suspect anything?”

“Of course not,” Dalton scoffs. “Allie believes whatever I tell her. She won’t be a problem.”

“Okay, I’m trusting you with that. Let’s get the girls tomorrow. We don’t need to waste any more time.”

Girls? What girls?Who are they talking about? Is Dalton cheating on me?

My mind races, but before I can process it, the door suddenly bursts open, startling me.

All of a sudden, I’m thrust back to a night that will haunt me forever.

“You didn’t see anything here. Do you understand me?”The words I can never unhear—echoing in my mind, relentless, and still haunting me after all this time.

I stumble back, the blood draining from my face.No. It can’t be.

They say evil hides in plain sight. And it’s often true. You hear the stories of women married to rapists, serial killers, or pedophiles—people they never suspected. They lived with these men or women, never once guessing anything was amiss. I always scoffed at those stories. How could they be so naïve? How did I miss this?

Dalton steps out of the building behind Wilson, looking at me in shock. He hisses, “Allie, what the fuck are you doing out here?”

“It was you. It was both of you,” I whisper, my voice hoarse. My hands tremble as they cup my mouth. Nausea hits my stomach like a lightning bolt, and I spill the little I’ve eaten onto the ground.

Dalton’s eyes lock onto mine, and a sudden realization dawns on him. He knows I’ve connected the dots. He knows I know.

“Allie—” He reaches for me.

“No! Get away from me!” I back away, looking between the two of them. A hard, calculating glint flashes in Wilson’s eyes. Dalton’s are ablaze with unbridled rage.

“I knew you would fuck this up,” Wilson says coldly. “Do I need to take care of this, or will you?”

“I’ve got it. Go,” Dalton whispers harshly. Wilson turns to leave, quickly boarding his boat and revving up the engine.

I’m terrified. I sense what’s about to come will be earth-shattering.

I turn and run toward the house, my heart pounding in my chest. If I can get my keys, or my phone, I can get help. I fumble with the back door handle, but before I can get inside, a hand grabs my hair from behind, and a scream rips through my throat. Hot tears stream down my face, my scalp on fire.

“Stop!” I beg, sobbing. “Please, stop!”

“You had to go and stick your nose where it didn’t belong, didn’t you? All I needed was for you to be a good little bitch and do as I say.” He shoves me into the house, and I crash to the floor. He slams the door shut behind us, the heavy lock clicking with a resounding thud.

I scramble back, trying to get as far from him as possible, and I see my phone at the end of the kitchen island. If I could just reach it, maybe I can call for help, but I have to find a way to distract him.

“Why did you do it? Why did you kill Paisley? She was a child. An innocent girl.”

“Shut the fuck up. You don’t know what you’re talking about. I never killed anybody.” His voice drips with contempt.

“But I heard you. You talked about getting the girls.”

His lips curl into a snarl. “I guess it doesn’t matter what Itell you now.”

“Wilson and I work for a man who has... certain needs. Certain preferences.” He pauses, as if thinking.

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