Page 23 of Veiled Vengeance

Asher is doing another sweep across the floor with the broom to make sure we didn’t miss any glass, and Hayes, Rio, and Zane return almost as quickly as they left with the last haul.

“Who is Dahlia?” Hayes questions.

Dahlia, who was standing at the window, tightens her shoulders.

“Hayes,” I reprove, jumping up from my stool at the breakfast bar.

“No. I’ve been patient—I haven’t pushed about any of it. But I walked into that warehouse too, so I deserve to know, who the hell is Dahlia?”

“I don’t know if now is—” I start.

“Me,” Dahlia interrupts, facing Hayes with her arms crossed over her torso. “I’m Dahlia.”

Hayes rubs his forehead. “But your name is . . .”

“Dahlia.” She braces as she waits for Hayes to react.

Hayes runs his hands through his hair, mussing it in the process. “Okay. Okay. Your name is Dahlia. So what?”

“Hayes.” Zane places a hand on Hayes’s shoulder. “There’s more to it.”

Stepping forward, I offer my support. “Dahlia, you don’t have to do this.” I make my way to her across the floor and grab her hand. Her eyes lock with mine and she breathes deeply, willing her tears to stay put.

Her lower lip trembles. “Why are you being so nice to me? You should be angry with me. You should hate me.”

Smiling, I give her hand a squeeze. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, babe. You’re still my best bitch.” I raise my hand and tuck some of her hair behind her ear.

She gives me a half-hearted smile. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to do this right now, it can wait. You don’t owe anyone answers.”

“No, I can do this.” She pats my hand and steps around me. “My name is Dahlia Monroe. I was kidnapped from LA when I was sixteen.”

Over the next bit, Dahlia spills her story—the same story she gave me in the warehouse. She recites the tale as if ithappened to someone else, and I don’t blame her. I’m sure the last few years of her life have been one terrible nightmare. While she’s talking, Hayes moves to Dahlia’s side. His gaze remains sympathetic.

When she’s done, she lets out a breath.

Hayes stares at the floor, trying to make sense of everything he just learned. “So, the Bride Butcher is Spencer’s ex—this Anthony dude.”

Dahlia nods.

Hayes turns to me. “And he’s killing women who look like you and dressing them in your wedding dress?”

I sigh. “Yeah.”

Hayes rubs his chin. “What’s up with the hyacinths?”

“He used to buy me those flowers after we’d fight. He said they showed how sorry he was.”

Hayes’s lip curls. “That’s fucked up.”

Dahlia pulls her hands away from Hayes and fidgets.

“Tell him,” Asher pushes.

I give him a look that sayscut it out.

He ignores me. “Hayes deserves to know the biggest part.”

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