Page 28 of The Devil She Knows
Sam’s heart raced and the ache in her throat spread into her chest. “I’m going to fix this—”
“I love you, but I can’t be married to someone who’s going to spend the next decade in prison. With everything with my dad …”
Sam’s heart shriveled to the size of a cherry pit inside her chest.
With all the stress and mess of the night, she hadn’t thought about how it would make Hannah feel, seeing Sam in handcuffs when her own father had spent the better part of her life in and out of prison for everything from tax evasion to insurance fraud.
“Han, this isn’t like that.I’mnot like that. You know me. You know I wouldn’t—”
“I know I watched my mom make excuses for my dad my whole life. I know it ate at her. I watched it happen. And I know I won’t make the same mistakes she did.” Hannah rose to her feet and the door to the interrogation room opened, confirming Sam’s suspicions that the detectives had been watching through a two-way mirror. “Take the plea, Sam. And take care, okay?”
“Hannah, wait!” The cuffs bit painfully into her wrists when she tried to stand. “Let’s talk about this!”
Strapped to the table, Sam was helpless to do anything but watch as the love of her life walked out the door. DetectiveJenkins slipped back into the room and leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets.
“You ready to take that deal, Ms. Cooper?”
Deal.
Sam met the detective’s eye.
“Shenanigans.”
7
THIS WASN’T HER elevator.
For one, it was too big, practically the size of Sam’s first studio apartment. Second, it looked like the inside of a pimped-out perfume bottle, like the one her grandmother once owned, a pretty vintage thing made of handblown crystal with a brass collar and an atomizer bulb. Or a whisky decanter, maybe.
Etched with gold leaf and inlaid with gemstones—sparkling emeralds and rubies, blue sapphires and pearls—the walls were gently curved, concave, and made of what looked like frosted sea glass, milky pink. Plush woven rugs covered the floor, and velvet jewel-toned poufs and pillows lay scattered about.
“Hiya, Sam.”
She tensed, teeth grinding together, and turned slowly in the direction of the voice, hands fisted at her sides.
Perched on the arm of a bubblegum-pink chaise, the bane of Sam’s existence batted her lashes and grinned. “Do youlike what I’ve done with the place? I thought the elevator could use a little facelift.”
“You,” she growled, a rage unlike any she had felt before overcoming her, her vision tunneling, tinted red. “I’m going to kill you.”
In two strides, she crossed the room, seized Daphne by her dainty shoulders, and shoved her back against the wall, ready to make good on her promise.
“Ooh, frisky,” Daphne purred, wiggling suggestively in Sam’s hold.
She clenched her jaw. “Try homicidal.”
“I can’t help but wonder,” Daphne mused, “how do you plan on killing that which cannot die?”
Sam resisted the urge to spit. “I don’t know, but I can try.” She set her forearm against Daphne’s throat. “Bet I can still whoop your ass. Get a few good licks in before—oof.”
It happened dizzyingly fast. One second she had Daphne trapped, and the next she was staring at the wall with her arm twisted behind her, her wrist pinned against the small of her back.
“Mm.” Daphne’s breath tickled her ear. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
No warning, no nothing; Daphne licked a stripe up the side of Sam’s neck and—
oh sweet Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Her tongue was forked.Forkedlike a—like a snake, like a—
Like a demon.
