Page 115 of His to Save

Immediately, I'm out of my truck and ripping open the passenger side door of the little coupe.

Nora tries to scream for help, but I crush her mouth shut, silencing her cries.

“I've got you now, you little bitch,” I growl, reveling in the way her eyes widen with fear. There’s something so delicious about her terror. All of the ones before her pale in comparison. The way her cheeks burn with the perfect mixture of shame and fear. The way she shakes and cries and begs, so beautifully. It could sustain me for days. Years, even. My perfect little pet.

She jerks against my hold, but she's no match for me, and with one solid hit to her temple, she's out cold.

CHAPTER 38

ATLAS

“You got a minute?” Ellis asks, dropping down onto the barstool next to me.

“What’s up?” I’m already on edge with Nora being gone, and something about his tone tells me that whatever he’s about to say isn’t going to help.

“I’ve just been thinking about your dad…”

“What about him?” I ask, hating the way the mere mention of the asshole has tension creeping up my back and into my shoulders.

“His safe, your mom, and all that bullshit.” Ellis drums his fingers against the countertop. “I don’t really know how to say this, so I’m just gonna spit it out.”

I raise my brows at him in lieu of an actual reply. At this point, I don’t trust myself not to be a jackass given the topic at hand.

“I think your dad killed your mom.” He swallows roughly. “And Nora’s mom. And possibly many others.”

“Like he’s a… serial killer or some shit?” I ask, bewildered but also not. I’ve known for a long fucking time that my dad was a piece of shit, and deep down, a little part of me always thoughthe killed my mom, but hearing someone else confirm these thoughts is something else entirely.

“Exactly like that,” Ellis says, nodding. “Hear me out.”

I signal for him to continue—it’s not like there’s any love lost for my father. If anything, I want to see him pay for all the pain he’s inflicted on the woman I love, and if whatever Ellis is about to tell me helps, then I’m all for it, even if it hurts to hear.

“You know that big case we’ve been working on?” he asks, seemingly shifting gears out of nowhere.

“Yeah…”

“Well, I can’t help but wonder if this is all related.”

“Related how?”

“Fuck, man.” Ellis rubs the back of his neck. “I mean, we both know the death certificates are bullshit. The odds of him losing two wives to the same mystery illness… not buying it. But the paper bag you found full of random shit? Those are trophies, man.”

“Trophies… like from…”

“Women he’s killed.”

“What the fuck?” I hiss the words on a ragged exhale.

“There’s more.”

“Of course there is.”

“The passport—it’s not under his name.”

“Jesus, this is all so fucked.” I pinch the bridge of my nose as a steady throb starts up behind my eyes. “So, what do we do now?”

The thought of him being out there somewhere—that he could still be a threat to Nora—sets my teeth on edge.

“Man, I don't even know,” Ellis starts. “I think we need to hand this info over?—”

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