Page 79 of Wicked Deceit
"Who? What?" she begs in whispered sobs. "You…?"
"See, in college, I met this magnificent woman. I followed her around, asked her out, and we started dating. Red hair and beautiful eyes, and she was on track to become a doctor. Looking back, I see why I loved you so much. When we met, I realized how similar the two of you were. That button nose, eye shape, hell, even your tits were the same. But then, she fucking left me, too, after a few months of dating. We graduated, and then she married some old fucker, and rode off into the sunset, and had that bitch of a kid." My jaw grinds together at his words. That bitch was my best friend. The one person who got me and understood me.
"So this entire thing…" her head slumps more, words slurring as she speaks. She's been through so much that I don't know how much more she can take. They could blow a feather into her face, and I think she’d completely collapse under the pressure. Guilt slams into me like a heavy train colliding with my chest. She'd be in better shape if I could have taken some of the torture away from her. But she didn’t allow them to. She made them focus on her instead of me.
"You left me and disappeared into the sunset. So the moment I put two and two together, I made my carefully orchestrated moves. Took your sister's husband—poor guy—and that left them for me. I waited and waited until it all fell into place. Your real daddy? Absolutely loaded! And thanks to their death, your niece's death, and your sister's death, I'm a multi-millionaire. Now, to close this dreadful chapter with your untimely death. Such a shame, but a long time coming. The entire website wanted to know what poor lot four hundred and seventy-five did to deserve such torment. And now they know. You left me, so I took all of your family and turned your poor crazy daughter against you. Good lay—" Vomit burns my esophagus from the imagery of him and Piper screwing around. They will forever be etched into my memories like a train wreck you can’t look away from. But even more disturbing is the fact he just admitted to turning Piper against her mother and using her for his own personal gains.
"Victoria!" Crowe booms, reaching a hand out to a black-hooded figure who saunters toward him with confidence leaking from her posture. Tearing off her mask, he holds her cheeks in his palms, staring deep into her eyes like a precious jewel. "My sweet, sweet, Victoria. When I finally found you, I renamed you after me to show the world who you belonged to. To show them that you were a Van Buren and had finally found your rightful place. You're so beautiful, love," he purrs, peppering kisses down her jaw.
"Daddy," she whispers. "Is all that true?" Her head cocks to the side, water forming in her eyes.
"Is what true, Love?" he asks huskily.
Piper's brows furrow, looking back at her mother's dying body, slumping in the chair like a ragdoll. "You forced Daddy Hurst out? Made him leave Francesca?" He grins more, gripping tight to her jaw. He no longer kisses at her flesh but sinks his fingertips in, leaving indentations and bruises for later.
"And you see where that's gotten me? It's right in your words." He mocks with deep chuckles coming from his chest.
"My finest piece on the chessboard." He looks back over to Francesca, snorting with glee. "I broke your marriage and broke your daughter. So much so that she fell to her knees when I swooped in to save her from you. She was so grateful and well—she opened her legs for me. She did anything I wanted her to do. I was so good at manipulating her, and I even convinced her I loved her.” He delivers his rant like a villain at the end of a movie. Complete with manic laughing from him and his brothers joining in, cracking like a whip straight through Piper’s broken heart.
Her bottom lip quivers, and streams of tears fall down her cheeks, collecting in the spot where Crowe holds her fighting form. She tries and fails to pull away from his grasp in desperation, pounding a fist into his arm and pleading with him to let her go.
"For your final torture," Crowe growls, shoving Piper to the ground with a thud. She lands on her ass with a startled yelp, staring up at Crowe like he broke her heart and shit in her shoes all at once. Pitiful tears stream down her face, head shaking back and forth. "You will watch the only child you ever loved die." He gives the nod to the others standing guard in black cloaks with a grin, watching in awe as they descend into madness with sharp, shiny knives gripped in their hands. Only five hooded figures circle her like the sharks they are, leaning down as one to cover her prone body with their cloaks. The others watch from the wall they stand against with envy as they go in for the kill.
"DADDY, NO!" Piper screams in desperation, crying out in pained whimpers.
Nothing but the slices of flesh and grunts fill the silent space as they fulfill their sick duty to their leaders. Piper’s helpless cries fall off into nothing, forever silenced by the sharp end of a knife. I heave breaths, gagging when the black figures stand tall and lazily return to where they once were with blood coating their black cloaks and dripping on the floor. With them out of the way, Piper’s lifeless and bloodied body remains mutilated where she lays. The last image I see of her is her cold, glazed-over blue eyes staring at the ceiling, pleading one last time for help that will never come.
My heart pounds in my chest when Crowe claps his hands, congratulating the killers with a small handshake. Like a proud father, he murmurs words of encouragement and slaps their shoulders before returning to his spot in the middle of the room. With disdain, he looks down at a sobbing Francesca, who stares at her only child left brutalized on the ground and blood collecting around her in a large pool.
The hand around my neck squeezes, returning my gaze to the madman smiling mere feet in front of me. He looks pleased with himself, and so do his brothers, who clap him on the shoulder. It’s like they played the Super Bowl and won, and now they get their trophy. True and utter fear takes hold of my pounding heart when he turns his attention back to Francesca, and I can only guess what’s coming next. And I don’t have to wait long. Crowe silences Francesca with a knife plunging deep into her chest, killing her instantly.
"All of you, take the bodies and prepare them for their final resting places. Poor, poor dears. They couldn't handle life anymore." He fake cries into his hand as the black figures scurry around the room, gathering the bodies and pulling them out. “Everyone else out. It’s time for the final and private ceremony.” He grins, side-eyeing me with a sadistic glint sparkling in the depths of his depraved eyes.
Nerves prickle at the back of my neck, making my hair stand on end. How could I have ever looked him in the eye and thought he was sane? There’s clear insanity behind his blue eyes that I’ve never seen before. Maybe in the past, he held it in and pretended to be the man we thought he was. Although, there’s always been a trickle of unease whenever I was around him. Like there was something I couldn’t put my finger on. And now I know what it was. He’s unhinged.
"You all are doing so well," the still-masked, red-hooded figure says with pride. "Keep doing as you're told, and your promotion will come.” His head bobs up and down when the remaining black-robed people walk by him towards the exit. “Delta!" he shouts the name as Oscar steps forward, straightening his back.
"Yes, Sir," he says, facing the masked member.
"You're promoted to Alpha. Your instructions will come directly from me now. Keep an eye out. Our new game begins in ten days,” he says, squeezing Oscar’s shoulder with affection.
"Yes, Sir," he says with glee in his tone, waltzing off and out the door.
A deafening click hits my ringing ears the moment Oscar shuts the door behind him. One sane person remains in a room with three crazy psychos in red robes. Who will win? Certainly not me. I’ve always said I’d fight tooth and nail to preserve my life, and I still will, but I know the odds are not in my favor right now. Considering I’m still tied up like a helpless victim, and they’re standing free with grins on their faces. Only time will tell if my knight in shining armor will show up, freeing me from this sick dungeon of Hell, or if I meet my end.
"Oh, Kaycee," Crowe coos, pulling me out of my macabre thoughts, waltzing toward me with a grin. It’s the same grin that he’s worn since the moment he whipped off his mask and revealed his face. Glee lights him up as he steps closer to me, trailing a bloodied finger across my swollen jaw, where the remnants of Hadley’s boot print are indented in my skin. "You've grown up before my eyes." I cringe, trying to back away as his fingers descend my broken jawline. Hissing under his touch, he only grins more.
"Did you find out everything you wanted to know?" he asks, cocking his head to the side.
"Why me?" I finally ask, causing him and the others to chuckle to themselves.
"Why not you? You came here with that look in your eyes—all fiery. The moment I noticed someone hacked into the autopsy report of Magnolia before I could correct the mistake of the helper, I knew it was you. You've always been so smart. But this time, it came to bite you in the ass,” Crowe coos, almost in awe at my skill set.
"Maybe we could use her?" Cushing says, stepping forward with disgusting intent in his eyes. He looks my body over, giving a grin of approval. "I do need a new toy, and she would be perfect. We could force her into the cause." Cushing hums, bobbing his head to nonexistent music rolling around in his mind.
Crowe rolls his eyes. "She has a family, you fucking dimwit. What do you think they will do when their sweet baby Kaycee goes missing? Huh? Fucking look for her. And those boys?" With those words, he looks directly into my eyes, narrowing them.
"They'll look, too. We have to give them a body to mourn, or they'll never stop looking. Or then, they'll be next, and we'd fetch a healthy ransom from the twins." He grins again, making the other two snicker with delight at his ultimatum.
