Page 70 of A Light in the Darkness
“You’ve never killed?” I guess. “Well, there’s a first time for everything, right? You’re in it, now, senator. You know the truthabout your friends… that place you found Claire, he was a friend right?”
He looks at me with surprise, and I can sense he’s getting ready to ask how I know that. “Claire’s buyer at the auction… Carrington Hardin is the name I found after Dimitri dug around. Only thing is, it was weird. Carrington seemed like a normal guy… quiet. Of course, anyone can put on a façade, but it didn’t make sense to me that a man who lived in a glorified shack would have hundreds of thousands of dollars to spend on a woman he saw once in a sixty second video. Michael did some more digging after we recovered Claire, and I realized Carrington is the receptionist at Evan Ludlow’s office… the same one your wife works at. And he’s gay.”
Victor opens his mouth and closes it, looking something like a fish.
“Your wife didn’t make a one-time decision to help these monsters because she was jealous of your girlfriend. You’re married to a fucking pit viper. You can either chop her head off first or wait and hope the worst she does is strangle you in your sleep.”
I watch the denial, the anger and fear and grief flash all across his face in rapid succession. And then he looks at me, pleading. “Can you do it?”
My first instinct is to laugh, and I do. Here I am, telling myself and everyone else that I’m done dealing with their problems, and yet I haven’t chased him off yet. But killing his bitch for him? That’s not my prerogative. I’m opening my mouth to tell him as much when a thought occurs to me.
It could be madness or genius. I don’t know if it’s cruelness or kindness, and I don’t know if it will help. But I’m pretty sure it can’t hurt.
“You really want her gone?”
“Yes.” The senator’s voice is a whisper. “I have children… what if she puts them in danger? What if she gives them up to this life? I can’t let her get away with this, but without the evidence, I…”
“Okay.” I nod.
His relief is half terror as he realizes what he just set into motion. The squeaky-clean senator, who’s got a reputation as a family man, just commissioned the murder of his wife.
“I know someone who can help.”
Chapter forty-one
Claire
There are so many things in my mind, but they don’t come out right even when I do try to give voice to them. My head is a mess—I still hurt, everywhere. It feels kind of like getting hit by a truck and then dragged very slowly. Some wounds are healing, while others can’t yet get the break they need to get better.
My head is one of them. I need to not feel something.
No, correction. I need to notthinkabout everything. I need to learn how to shut my brain off without shutting my body off. Instead, it’s like some sort of reversal… my brain is so overloaded, it’s shut down my body to try and process everything going on inside it.
Everything takes energy I don’t have… it’s why I’m still wearing the tank top and sweatpants I dragged on after the bath with Remy. Brushing my teeth has felt like a herculean task that I’ve skipped more than I ever would have dreamed, but then when I get up to pee and get a look at myself, it does nothing to help the self-hatred I am drowning in.
It’s why I haven’t fought him yet on leaving, on letting me go back to my apartment and be alone. Wherever we are, it’s like the penthouse. He has me under his thumb, and yet he’s on the opposite side of the place, and there are doors between us and so much that hasn’t been said. He’s not leaving me alone, but he hasn’t pestered me, and for that, I’ve been content to not have the conversation I will eventually need to.
He brings me food that I don’t eat, books I stare at without reading, clothes I don’t have the desire to step into. Each time he’scome to me, his demeanor is patient, kind, gentle. He doesn’t make me feel broken because I’m still not feeling anything.
But when he comes into my room this time, his energy is different. There’s nothing patient or gentle about the way he throws my door back so hard it has me lifting my face off the pillow and blinking in confusion. He’s also dressed to the nines instead of slumming it with me the way he has for the last few days.
“We’re going out.” He announces, tossing something on the bed. “Come on.”
I just watch him, not ready for the fight he seems to be in the mood for. “No.”
“It wasn’t a question.” He tears the blanket off of me and lets it fall to the floor. “Get up.”
Maybe if I ignore him, he’ll go away.
I close my eyes, and a moment later I feel his hands on my ankles as he tugs me down the bed. “What are you doing?” I accuse, sitting up to try and pull out of his reach.
“I told you; we’re going out. If you don’t get up, I’ll carry you out.”
There’s no smirk on his lips, no teasing. He just looks at me with his jaw set, his eyes hard. He’s annoyed with me, angry, I’m sure that he laid it all out there and I gave him nothing in return. “I don’t want to go anywhere.”
“Well, too bad this isn’t about what you want. You have three seconds to stand, or I’ll throw you over my shoulder.”
I roll my eyes at him and stand. He’s tall enough that I’m only looking at his chest, the white collar of his shirt so pristine. When I flick my gaze up, he’s watching me without any discernible emotion. I don’t like that.
