Page 203 of Healed in the Alpha's Embrace
“No.” Warman was firm. “This is on George and George alone. You are not to blame for the actions of that twisted man.”
I swiped at my wet cheeks. The chief was right—I knew that deep down—but it was hard not to feel responsible when the man I loved was fighting for his life because of me.
Warman hesitated. “I know this isn’t the best time, but there are some things we need to discuss regarding George’s body. Maybe it’ll take your mind off the waiting?”
My stomach twisted. “What about it?” I managed.
“We need to know if there will be anyone to claim the body. Does he have any family to handle the arrangements? If not, the state will take care of it.”
I shook my head. “No, he doesn’t have anyone. His parents died years ago, and he was an only child.”
Warman nodded. “All right. In that case, the state will?—”
“I want to see him,” I said, surprising myself.
Warman frowned. “Zoey, I really don’t think that’s a good idea. After everything he put you through?—”
“I need to see him. Please.” My hands trembled, but I clenched them into fists. “I need to know that it’s real. That he’s really gone.”
Warman sighed heavily. “All right. He was brought here. I’ll take you down to the morgue. I’ll be right there with you, okay?”
I nodded, then looked at Christian and Angela. “I’ve got my phone. Call me if they come out and tell you anything.”
Angela squeezed my hand. “Of course we will. Go say goodbye and get some closure.”
The morgue wascold and sterile, the harsh fluorescent lights making everything surreal. Warman spoke quietly to the attendant, who pulled out a drawer. I steeled myself as Iapproached, my breath catching as the attendant pulled back the sheet.
There he was. George. The man who had terrorized me for years and reduced me to a lifeless shell. I stared at his face, waiting for him to sit up and lunge at me like in so many of my nightmares.
But he remained still, his eyes closed, his skin pale and waxy.
“Is this him?” Warman asked gently.
I nodded, unable to tear my gaze away. “It’s him,” I whispered. “It’s really over.”
Warman patted my back. “He can’t hurt you or anyone else ever again. You’re safe now.”
Tears spilled down my cheeks as the reality sank in. George was dead. I was free. But the cost... I thought of Noah fighting for his life, and a sob tore from my throat.
Nausea roiled in my stomach as I stared down at George’s lifeless body. The reality of everything he had put me through, the years of abuse and torment, hit me like a tsunami. But beneath the pain and revulsion, a small flicker of relief sparked to life. He could never hurt me or my son ever again.
“You took so much from me,” I whispered. “My sense of safety, my self-worth, my ability to trust. You nearly destroyed me.”
The tears came then, hot and unbidden, spilling down my cheeks. I didn’t bother to wipe them away. Let him see. Let him know the depth of the scars he had left on my soul.
“But you didn’t break me,” I said. “I survived. I got away. And now... now you’re gone. And I’m still here.” I leaned closer, my face inches from his. “I hope you rot in hell, you bastard. And if Noah doesn’t make it, I swear on all that is holy that I will curse your soul to the deepest, darkest pit of damnation for all eternity.”
With that, I straightened and turned on my heel, striding out of the morgue. “The state can have him,” I told Warman. “I don’t care where they bury him or what they do with his body. I’m done with him. Forever.”
Warman nodded. “I understand. I’ll make the arrangements.”
I took a deep breath, the heaviness that had been a constant presence in my chest over the years finally easing. George was my past. It was time to leave him behind and focus on my future. On Noah. On our life together.
With a final nod to Warman, I got on the elevator, my head held high. I was free. Truly, finally free.
The elevator doors opened with a ding, and I stepped out onto the floor, my heart racing. Christian and Angela were waiting for me, worry clouding their eyes.
I stumbled. “How is he? Is he okay?”
